-They identify this Soulmate by a birthmark/tattoo on the inside of their left wrist.
-This tattoo is designed to fit together with their Soulmateâs tattoo, like 2 pieces of a puzzle.
-Unmatched Soulmates can become afflicted with something called Hanahaki Disease. This disease causes the afflicted Soulmate to cough up flowers. Initially, it will start as petals, then steadily escalate into full flowers. If left untreated, the flowers will root in the afflicted Soulmateâs lungs and flowers will fill their lungs and windpipe, causing them to choke and die.
-The flowers can be removed with surgery, however, doing so will remove all romantic feelings towards the afflictedâs Soulmate.
-People can become afflicted for several reasons:
-A Soulmate has fallen in love with another (purple).
-A Soulmate has rejected the love of the other (dark red).
-A Soulmate is kept from the other (blue-gray).
-A Soulmate denies their own feelings to themselves (toxic green).
-A Soulmate has died (black).
-In most situations, the disease can be cured simply by reversing the situation causing it, followed by several days to a week staying close to their Soulmate, usually away from others. The non-afflicted Soulmate spends the time catering to and coddling the afflicted Soulmate.
-If a Soulmate has fallen in love with another, then they need to fall out of love with them and begin to love their Soulmate, or at least realize that the feelings wonât last. However, it is not uncommon for the unloved Soulmate to commit suicide in this situation, since they want their Soulmate to be happy. This doesnât usually end well though, since the living Soulmate will inevitably realize their error and contract the disease themselves.
-A Soulmate may also choose to commit suicide should their Soulmate reject their love, rather than living without them.
-If the Soulmate has died, the only way to save the surviving Soulmate is surgery that removes the flowers, but also removes the feelings of love that they had for their Soulmate and their tattoo will vanish.
-Because of this, most choose to forgo the surgery and die, either from the disease over time or by suicide.
-Sometimes, though, the Soulmates have never met, and so the living Soulmate will move forward with the surgery.
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A witchâs apprentice happens across a lake creature on his way to complete an errand.
Written for the @vldbingo event. Trope: Fairytale AU.
Growling, Lance hauled his sodden self out of the lake. Night was fast approaching, and the impromptu bath his horse had made him take made every soft and gentle breeze feel like a sheet of ice wrapping around him.
âThat witch better pay up for this,â he griped, throwing down his cloak. His horse, an old chestnut rouncy heâd taken from some merchant collecting flies on a side road, whinnied at the sight of him, as if laughing at his sorry state. Lance was not pleased.
âYeah, yeah,â he said, grabbing the reins. âLaugh it up, why donât ya. Wonât be long âtil itâs you kicking the bucket.â
As if insulted, the beast suddenly bit at him and kicked.
âHey!â Lance cried, dropping the reins. âStop that!â He took the reins once more and pulled, none too gently, as he fought with his horse. âListen, you,â he growled, as if the beast was something he could reason with. âI fed you, I washed you--I even paid to fix that bad shoe of yours. Would it kill you to show some appreciation?â
The horse bit at him again. Lance tugged hard on the reins, forcing its head to turn away from him and scowling. The scowl turned quickly to shivering, as the wind blew over them again. Teeth clattering, Lance stripped down, tossing his wet clothes to the ground and pulling a linen tunic out from one of the horseâs packs. It was old and unwashed, smelling strongly of sour sweat. Lance gagged as he pulled it over him, and made quick work of replacing his wet leggings for the wool ones. There was much more room in the crotch, for these clothes did not belong to him and instead belonged to the old merchant he found dead on the road. He must have been a very fat man, he told himself, even if the merchant wasnât at all that fat. But to think that he, at the young and envious age of twenty, only filled half of what the dead merchant did was not a truth he rather liked. Well, he thought, at least Iâm still alive.
Lance stuffed his sodden clothes into the pack where heâd found the dead merchantâs old clothes. His cloak, he found, was too thick to stuff into the same pack. This, he was forced to drape over his lap as he sat in the saddle of his horse, now no longer interested in fighting with him when he took hold of the reins once more. He could feel the cold fabric seep through the dry wool and linen. Heâd be freezing once again soon enough, he knew, if he didnât find a place to take shelter in time.
Just as he thought this, a flickering something caught his eye. Startled, Lance turned. He found himself staring at the lake, which lay placid and still, even as the wind cast a strong chill from the east. The sky, stained with all the colors of sunset, spilled its red-orange hue into the lake, transforming what was supposed to be a calming pool into something resembling a hellish pit.
It wasnât the lakefire, however, that had caught his eye, however. It was the image of a flickering light dancing in the middle of the lake, rights on its surface. A pale, yellow thing, amidst the violent red and orange, shone brightly in the lake as an unmoving circle of light. If Lance were younger, perhaps he would have thought it to be the sun and continued on his way. But he was older now, and knew that even the sun rippled in the water, however still it was in the sky. He also knew that a sun setting in the west could never shine so still in the middle of a lake. It would sink deeply into the banks, or disappear altogether if dusk had reached far enough. This circle of light, then, was unnatural. It was of a mystical nature.
Though Lance thought little of the faeryfolk and of spirits, he knew they were very much as real and present and he and anyone else was. His experiences with other worldly creatures were fortunately nonexistent, and he was careful to maintain it as such. So cautious was he that even the old winding path through the woods in his village was avoided, for the stories of goblins and ghouls heâd heard in his youth were more than enough to keep him away while the rest of his siblings grew up bold and daring.
The east wind, too, grew bold and daring, stealing strength from his shivering form every second he spent in the open meadow. The wind swept over the grass, the rippling blades like the waves of the sea. There was a storm brewing. That, he knew from having traveled enough times to know that changing winds ushered in a storm.
He was still half a dayâs travel away from the Spotted Pig, the tavern the witch had sent him along to. If he rode hard through the trees, he was certain to reach shelter before the worst of the storm would come. The big question, of course, was whether his horse would sustain a lengthy gallop. It hardly ever went beyond a trot unless there was danger nearby.
With renewed vigor, Lance took hold of the reins. As if sensing its riderâs intentions, the horse kicked out with a cry, a great stubbornness bearing down its spirits like a rock. He yanked on the reins, struggling to contain the beastâs fickleness against him. âOh, come on! You were just fine a second ago. Whatâs wrong with you now?â
Suddenly, a sound as soft as the wind filled the meadow. It was a strange noise. There was a bubbling and a rippling, and it quickly grew louder like the babbling of a brook that had been enchanted to mimic the rushing roar of a river. It was, most certainly without a doubt, coming from the lake.
Whatever it was, it was enough to spook his steed. It jumped with a whinnying scream, and lunged forward into a fierce gallop that sped them both through the meadow. They were moving so fast, Lance nearly lost his place on the saddle. His cloak, made from a fabric so finely threaded, heâd only been able to afford it through dishonest means, was lost in the mad race toward the woods. It was the finest item heâd owned, but he dared not try to stop the beast, lest he want to be thrown off the saddle.
Still, he couldnât help but look back. He turned back as far as he could without losing his balance, hoping for one last glimpse of that beautiful cloak. He searched and he searched to no avail, for he could not see it in the meadow at the speed of which he traveled.
He was, however, able to see what had come out of the lake.
There, in the middle of the lake, was a creature most frightening: a serpent-like beast with a mouth full of teeth, fiery-red fins adorning the sides of its face, and four hellfire eyes glinting against its glistening, golden face. It writhed and flailed against an unknown force, and the light of the setting sun seemed to make it shriek all the more painfully.
Shocked beyond all belief, Lance was frozen in place. He was too mesmerized with fear and wonder to do anything but stare. So when his horse finally reached the end of the meadow and entered the woods, Lance missed the first low-hanging branch that came for his head, and was knocked completely off his horse to sink head-first into a painful abyss of darkness.
Square(s): Altea AU (AU Card), Unfair Reputation (H/C Card)
Headcanons:
So basically this AU takes place a few years after the start of the war against Zarkon, but Altea was not destroyed and Alfor is alive. The war still continues and Altea is not the paradise it used to be. The royal family is often dealing with the issues of refugees from Galra attacks as well as fighting the army.
While there are many Galra that have joined the forces of the rebels, they are still viewed with hostility and distrust. Alfor fully trusts the Blades but he often runs into problems with his council, who believe that it looks bad for the coalition to have Galra among their ranks. Alfor has final say, however, and the Blades have proven themselves many times, so the council doesnât have any real justification to severe ties with them.
Keith is the new Red Paladin, chosen by Alfor to enforce the bond between the Blades and the Coalition due to his half Galra and half Altean heritage. His mother is Krolia, a Galra and a high-ranking member of the Blades of Marmora, and his father is Rhett, an Altean palace guard and head of the Disaster Rescue Unit before he was killed during a mission. Keithâs natural form has purple skin, long pointed ears, and purple eyes with yellow sclera. Due to his Galra parentage, he is often treated with contempt and is generally viewed as untrustworthy. Because of this, Keith constantly goes out of his way to prove himself, though nothing he does ever seems to gain the approval he wants. He often uses his Altean shapeshifting ability to hide his skin and eyes, to give the illusion that he is fully Altean.
Shiro is the Black Paladin that took over after Zarkon was corrupted and the Captain of the Altean Guard. The council very much wants him to marry Allura, since he comes from a powerful noble family, but they arenât interested in each other. If anything, he is far more interested in Keith.
PRESENTING MY NEXT FILL FOR @voltronbingo Â
For the Lance card fill: Friendship
A gift for @eclair who wanted some cute garrison trio friendship.Â
Rating: G
Summary: Each year, Hunkâs Moms helped him make his âback to school specials.â They were the best oatmeal-raisin-double-chocolate-chip cookies ever. This year, he wasnât so sure about bringing them- he was headed to his new school, the Garrison. It was a bit more strict and he didnât know anyone.
Preview: He briefly considered tossing them all into a garbage. Then he considered how bad he was at lying to his Mom even on the phone. So here he was, almost done with the train ride with a box of cookies in his lap. He had been reminded that missing that bus after this was a big problem- military bases wouldnât be too happy with a random kid walking up to the gate and waving.
As soon as the stop was announced he hurried off the train, trying to balance the bags and box of cookies. He managed to find a seat next to one of the smaller first years, offering up a cookie right away.
Read the full story on AO3:
Back to School Cookies
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Another piece I made for the VLD Trope Bingo. This one fills out the âforbidden loveâ trope.
hereâs a link to ao3:Â https://archiveofourown.org/works/15924020
Excerpt:
The smaller of the two stepped forward and cleared her throat before speaking.
"Master Hunk, have you brought the extra bread?" She questioned, her voice firm and as dark as the night around her.
He nodded and beside him the cart shifted.
"I still don't understand why I have to be referred to as 'the extra bread'." An annoyed voice came from the wagon. The barrels shifted and, with a rustle, the blanket was thrown off them.
For the VLD Trope Bingo: Forbidden Love
Hunk guided his horse through the night, calming her when she whinnied. Wind whistled through the trees and the forest was alive with night sounds. Another horse would have frightened at the rustling in the dark, she was a steady girl and now used to these night time outings. Every once in a while, she would nicker and press into Hunk's side, but his gentle words got her used to the dark and the pull of the cart behind her.Â
The wooden wheels creaked as they hit a rock, and there was a muffled thump in the cart. The blanket Hunk had thrown over the barrels shifted almost fell off and he scrambled to readjust it.
"Sorry," Hunk whispered, hands fumbling with the fabric and beside him his horse snorted.
In another fifteen minutes, Hunk reached a clearing in the woods and pulled the cart to a halt. The forest around him was alive with the hooting of owls, the chirp of crickets, and the rustle of the wind tickling the leaves. Above them, stars sparkled and a full moon hung in the air, glinting like a silver coin.
Hunk rose a hand to his mouth and turned his head towards the sky. Then with practiced ease, he sang like a whip-poor-will. His voice carried easily through the air and he only had to wait a moment before his call was answered.
After a beat, two figures emerged from the trees. They both had on long coats that brushed the ground when they walked and hoods that hid their eyes in shadows. Their faces were obscured in darkness and Hunk could just barely make out their mouths.Â
The smaller of the two stepped forward and cleared her throat before speaking.
"Master Hunk, have you brought the extra bread?" She questioned, her voice firm and as dark as the night around her.
He nodded and beside him the cart shifted.
"I still don't understand why I have to be referred to as 'the extra bread'." An annoyed voice came from the wagon. The barrels shifted and, with a rustle, the blanket was thrown off them.
Keith popped out of a barrel, adjusting his clothes with a huff and taking a deep sniff of the cool night air. "We all know I'm the one in the barrel." He muttered as he tried to get out of the barrel. Hunk came to his side and helped him out until he was finally on solid ground again.
"Keith!" The other hooded figure squealing, racing towards the Galra. Keith's huge ears perked at the voice and he only had a moment to prepare himself before he was practically body-slammed to the ground.
"Ack! Lance!" he laughed, trying to sound annoyed, but unable to keep the joy from his face. Happiness bubbled in him like a spring and he was smiling so much that his face hurt. The Altean gazed down at him, his eyes sparkling like the finest diamonds, his smile capturing the sky.
He was Keith's entire world.
He was also placing kisses along Keith's jaw, trailing them up towards his ticklish ears. He giggled and pressed his ears against his head when they felt Lance's lips.
"Lance," he yelped, desperately trying to push the Altean off him as he mercilessly attacked, "Lance, not the ears!"
After a couple minutes of wrestling, Lance let up. He was still spread out completely on Keith, effectively pinning him to the ground, but at least now he wasn't tickling Keith to death.
"Why do you always go for the ears?" The Galra growled, though the sound was more affectionate than angry. The appendages in question, flicked back and forth on his head.
The Altean hummed, and Keith could feel the vibration of it in his chest. "Because," Lance kissed Keith after every word, "They" kiss "are" kiss "cute."
Before either of them could get in another word, Pidge cut in. "Stop it, you two, you're being gross."
Both of them snapped their heads up and, despite his protests from earlier, Keith glared at Pidge for making Lance stop. Then, his glare turned into a smirk and he silently challenged Pidge with his eyes. She narrowed her eyes and before she could figure out what he was going to do, he kissed Lance full on the mouth.
The Altean yelped in surprise, but after a moment of confusion, dove into the kiss with zeal.Â
Pidge groaned loudly and tugged on Hunk's arm. "Hunk," she whined, "Make them stop."
He shrugged with a smile. "Give them a break. They haven't seen each other in like a month. Anyways, I think it's kinda adorable."
"Of course, it's adorable," Lance piped up, breaking from the kiss. He crawled off of Keith and offered the Galra a hand up. Keith took it, and didn't let go even when he was fully upright.
Pidge flipped the hood on her coat back and placed her hands on her hips. "It's not cute. It's gross. Keith literally tried to eat your face in front of me."
Lance's eyes narrowed and he put a single hand on his hip, the other still in Keith's. "It was a gesture of affection," he insisted, "An extremely appreciated and cute gesture of affection."
Keith rolled his eyes and met Hunk's gaze who looked equally as exasperated. He gave the other man a smile.
"I really can't thank you enough for doing this," Keith said, "I know it's a risk and I'm sorry that-"
"No, no, no," Hunk cut Keith off, before he could keep apologising, "I want to do this Keith. It's not fair that you and Lance can't be together because of some stupid rule."
Keith smiled and didn't say anything. That "stupid rule" was a royal decry that outlawed relationships between servants and noble folk. Add in the fact that he and Lance were two different species, and you had a forbidden love and a nationwide scandal if anyone found out.Â
Despite that, though, he and Lance were fighting for each other.
He looked over to his boyfriend who was still bickering to Pidge about whether romance was cute or gross. He leaned over, nosing against Lance's cheek. With an annoyed huff, the Altean kissed him, then went right back to his argument.
And, he silently thought to himself I think we're winning.
