Foxberry Writes

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[foxberrywrites]

Echo Chamber

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII - Part VIII Part IX - Part X - Part XI - Part XII - Part XIII - Part XIV - Part XV

Also on AO3

Shiro stands to limp ahead, taking a deep breath to steady himself. While his wounds are patched up, his patience is fraying. The edges have already started to snag on all of his obstacles and now the threads are trailing behind him, blowing in the wind.

He pushes forward, grunting, breath hitching as every move sends another ripple of pain through him. “We’ll just have to keep going,” he manages through his groaning, pushing forward as Keith and Lance follow on behind him.

Keith sniffs the air as they make their way through the corridors. Only a few steps behind Shiro, he checks the side corridors they pass and finds nothing to report. He trails just enough behind to stay in the corner of Shiro's eye.

Beside him Lance hums, nervously going over a familiar tune that Shiro can't place. He might have told him to be quiet if it wasn't somehow comforting. Lance's steps wander back and forward, unable to keep to a straight line. He holds his gun up, ready to fire, turning it this way and that with a suspicious squint.

After what seems like an hour of searching and limping, Shiro spies a blinking light ahead. It must be a sign, some kind of indication that he's leading them all the right way. "Follow me." He rushes forward, ignoring his limp, pushing his body harder. He huffs through every jolt that shoots through him with each heavy step towards the light.

His breath catches in his throat when the sickly green lights around them flicker. They seem to screech behind their panels of glass and metal, flashing down at the three of them before turning off completely. A low hum runs through the walls, seeming to prickle over their skin. The hair on Shiro's arm stands on end, and then it is gone again.

"Hunk?" Lance asks in the dark, moving to Shiro's side. His voice does not sound certain, more worried if he should even be talking at all. Despite the darkness, Shiro can see his gun is held in position close to his chest. His silhouette appears to be tense, maybe even shaking. Comforts will have to come later.

Shiro shakes his head and blinks hard when the lights flick back on. As much as Hunk might be fiddling with something or has just knocked something lose, he suspects they might find someone or something else when they make their way to the end of the corridor. He's preparing himself for the worst.

Step by step they get closer to the room. Blinking LED lights flash at the end of the corridor, teasing them. Shiro can't be certain if it's a good or a bad sign, but he signals for Lance and Keith to stay close all the same. He can't have them wandering off if something does happen.

"So you think if we just--- Shit!" Lance jumps out of the way just as a door slams in front of his face with a metal crunch. The walls around them shake and they all stare at the new steel wall before them.

Lance's nose is barely an inch away from the steel. If he had been one step closer, not distracted by his paranoia, he might have been hit by it. His eyes stare, his body freezes, and his tongue flaps in his mouth unable to produce sound again.

Keith moves to stand beside Lance, hovering behind his shoulder. “You okay, Lance?” He leans in and places a hand on Lance's arm. Keith turns to check with Shiro before he looks back again, eyes filled with concern.

It takes a second before Lance responds. “Fine!” he yelps and slams forward into the door. "Fine. I'm fine!" He pulls his arm away and hunches his shoulders together. His face contorts into a frown, trying to shake off the pain in his body. Shiro wonders briefly if he looks as pained as that when he moves.

"Let's get this door open." Shiro steps forward and grabs at the first piece of jutting metal he can find. His fingers can barely make the grip, but it holds long enough for him to pull. It relents at his touch.

Lance follows suit, grabbing the other side of the door by the tips of his fingers, and starts pulling. "This thing's heavy." He grunts and puts all of his back into it. The door begins to move further, a gap appearing in the centre.

Keith steps towards the gap and digs his claws into the metal. It continues to screech and whine as he pushes the doors apart. "Keep... pulling... it's moving."

The door moves slowly, resisting all three of them, forcing them all to groan and push and struggle. Shiro can feel his muscles screaming at him again, muscles ready to give up. His fingers slip for a second and the door speeds away from him. He leaps forward to get his grip again and stops the metal just before it hits Keith's hands.

Lance whines and grunts and grinds his feet into the ground. He starts to speak when the door pulls away from all of them, slamming back into the walls. Lance falls back, sliding to the floor with a curse.

Keith falls forward through the wider gap and catches himself with his hands, claws scratching and peeling away the metal floor. He collapses to the ground with a groan.

Shiro stomps his foot to the ground and manages to stay upright. He leans forward to hold himself up with a hand on his thigh. Lance's bandages seems to still be holding despite how much he continues to test them. He sighs and gathers himself up to keep walking while the others get themselves to their feet.

"Keep going," he suggests, his voice raw, his body too tired to say much more. He limps slowly behind Keith and Lance as they stumble forward in front of him. Keith continues to sniff and hunch, body tense and ready to go, while Lance seems more on edge, pointing his gun up at the exit they approach.

Once out of the corridor, they find a large room of electronics, lit by distant star shining through the vast window at the other end. The side walls are covered in broken screens. Cables trail across the floor and into the corners and up to the ceiling. Lights flicker from tiny LED lights that seem splattered across every surface that Shiro can see.

In amongst them all are a handful of stations and chairs, positioned like it was meant for a team to fly. Sparks shoot from one end of the room, casting light across the desks and catching on the dust. It smells like the remnants of a fire, smoke rising lazily from the burnt out electronics tucked in places Shiro can't see.

But despite the array of technology he finds himself confronted with and the vast emptiness of space he can see outside, his eyes are drawn to a shadow cast along the ground. It leads to the far corner where someone sits, backlit by the light of the star.

Shiro…

K1. approaches the shadow quietly, sticking close to the wall K2. calls out to the shadow

Make your vote by January 25th 7:00pm EST

[foxberrywrites]

nice way to bring the horror back! that nightmare sure was something else.. I really liked the imagery of it, and poor shiro doesn't get a pause even while sleeping :') also the uncertainty what exactly each option entails.. argh it's slowly killing me, it gets harder and harder to chose... L2 (shiro pls rely on your teammates, that's the purpose of a team ;w; ) don't worry about taking so long to update, i'll patiently wait :)

Thank you! I’m really glad you liked it! Shiro’s nightmares are not something I would wish on anyone honestly.

The uncertainty is all part of it, and I honestly do love making it hard to choose as the story goes on. Sadly, you were the only person to vote L2 and L1 is what won out in the end. You’ll see the result when I post the chapter on Tumblr very soon.Thank you for your feedback. I really appreciate it!

[foxberrywrites]

Echo Chamber

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII - Part VIII Part IX - Part X - Part XI - Part XII - Part XIII - Part XIV

Also on AO3

Shiro lies down and presses a cheek against Lance's thigh. He would have been content with any surface for a chance to sleep, but a softer one makes all the difference as he feels himself drifting away. Even the jolty movement of Lance’s knee beneath him doesn’t hold him back.

When the sounds of the room fades away, he finds himself in another corridor, dark but for the strobing purple light pulsing from his arm. With every flash his arm aches, a heartbeat thrumming alongside it, inside and outside of Shiro’s chest, almost like a pair of hearts beating at the same time.

The sound fills his ears and echoes off the dark shimmer of the walls, following down the long empty corridor only to end in the shadow. A turn to his left reveals bright yellow eyes where his would be, staring back unblinking, unaffected by the furrowing of Shiro's brows as if the eyes are not his own. A low satisfied hum follows, shaking the mirror, the walls, the very floor beneath his feet.

Shiro feels a sharp dread dig into his stomach and he runs. The corridor narrows, mirrored walls pressing in on him with every stride he makes. He huffs in the darkness, eyes half-blinded by the flashing light from his arm, revealing no end in sight. His footsteps fall beneath the sound of the two heartbeats, pounding in his ears, one calm and one fast, meeting in an turbulent, offbeat rhythm.

Turning to his left again, he sees the blur of yellow eyes beside him and the sickly off-white glow of a growing smile. It teases him with silent laughter, matching the movement of his face and his body perfectly, haunting him like an animate shadow.

Turning to his right, he finds much the same. A chilling wink sets his gaze forward again, unable to forget the shadows that live and run and smile in the dark mirrors on either side. They are his visage in a different light or perhaps more aptly a darker shadow, untouched by the pulsing purple glow from his arm.

The glass of the mirror starts to skirt along his left arm and nudges his right arm closer to his body. He draws both in, struggling to run while so tense in his shoulders. All he can hear is the heartbeats, the stable one chasing the hurried, stressed beat of his own. It's as if he is being chased by the darkness itself.

The sounds of his team play behind him, calling out to him with the terrified screams and grunts and cries of each of them. His shoulders shake, wanting to push forward through the weight now pulling down at his legs and wanting to turn back to check behind him. He can't bare to look, staring straight ahead to avoid the yellow eyes he can see in the corners of his vision. They stare at him and drill into his resolve, piercing through his skin with a silent screech, seeming to scrape tiny fragments from his soul.

Mirrors squeeze him to a halt, pressing him in, forcing him to face the dark figure, his demons built of shadow and doubt. Bright yellow sears at his eyes, grasping for his gaze, demanding it until he stares in the startling emptiness before him. There's nothing in those eyes, nothing he can see. Yet the being smiles with a teasing grin, teeth sharp and jagged, so much like Keith's in Galra form he flinches at the memory of the attack on his arm.

Aching and pinned between the glass, he cringes as it begins to crack. It distorts the image of his shadow, a sharp line rushing through the crackling of glass, forming branches in the mirror. Its face splits to the harsh, unsettling sound erupting in front of him and behind him. The smile forming in the muted colours presses in closer and ruptures when another crack strikes through it, turning one smile into many.

Shards of glass erupt in the air, nipping at Shiro's skin, digging into flesh, decorating him like a misshapen art piece too bruised and weak to be restored. The faster heartbeat slows, clapping through the din of the vice-like corridor. His lungs scream for air that evades his lips. His body aches to fall, to sleep, to dream of worlds far from this one.

He can feel a hand on his cheek, teasing and gentle. He shakes his head free of the touch and glares at the shadow staring through the spider web cracks across its face. "What do you want?!" he yells to the empty, breath-stealing corridor. The sound of his own voice hurts his ears. His voice has as little room as his body does.

"Shiro?" calls a voice in the distance. It reverberates through the glass, shaking shards to the ground. They scatter with the sound of squawking birds or maybe a hissing of insects. It distorts too much for Shiro to tell with everything aching.

Shiro turns his head this way and that but sees nothing. The purple flashing in his arm slows, leaving him in long seconds of darkness. "Where am I? What is this? Why do you look--" His voice cuts off into a gasp. A desperate choking sound grabs around his throat at the sudden sharp pain in his chest.

Eyes wide and barely able to breathe, his chest freezes, unable to move or risk the tearing through his lungs. His head grows cloudy and with all of his effort, he groans and peers down. Poking out through his uniform is a gigantic piece of glass. Pointed and jagged, it protrudes from his chest, dripping with a thick, dark liquid that dribbles down from the wound in his chest. It appears too foreign to be blood, but there's little else it can be.

Laughter crackles through the air like radio static and Shiro snaps his head up to peer at the yellow eyes that have returned. They stare him down with a smile, showing in the way the eyelids narrow, seeming pleased. Shiro throws his fist at the glass and screams. His hand shatters away the wall of mirrors in front of him, pieces cutting into his hand while his chest freezes up in the jolt of pain. He can't move. He can't move. He can't--

Shiro gasps and cries and screams with a rasped, choked sound. His body arches up fro his position on the ground. All he can see is grey and shadows. He can't tell if the dream has ended or he has. The mirror's pieces are gone, but pain clings to him, remnants of sleep racking his body.

"Shiro!" Lance cries, voice raw with worry and what sounds like tears. "Are you okay? Are you awake? Please tell me you're..." His face comes into view, hovering over Shiro. He holds his hands up ready, but unsure of what to do with them. Shiro realises suddenly that he's lying on the ground, contorted in a strange position, aching from muscles he'd long forgotten he had.

Keith's face pops into view a moment later. His features have become a darker purple and his ears keep twitching when he frowns. "You had another nightmare," he announces and looks over Shiro. "Did you need anything? Can we... do... something?" He's at a loss for what to do.

Shiro sinks down to the floor, slowly relaxing the tension in each of his muscles. Their faces, as worried as they are, set him at ease. He's not longer dreaming, and while his body hurts, it's not pulling him apart. Nor is he the target of a shadow in his form. The sooner he can wake, the sooner he can forget. Yet everything, even the dream, still hurts.

Shiro rolls himself over and pushes himself up from the floor. His body feels strange, now that he isn't pinned between mirrored walls and his chest remains in one piece. He can't escape the thought that he needs to keep going, find the others, and get out of this place before hell breaks lose. Even if his body feels like it's been to hell already.

Shiro...

L1. stands to limp ahead, taking a deep breath to steady himself L2. bites his lips and sighs, preparing himself to give orders

Make your vote by January 13th 7:00pm EST

[foxberrywrites]

ohh nice surprise that hunk was it :D wonder what/who is causing all that static over the comm lines... or just faulty devices? heh... wonder what'll happen next~ K1

Yes, a good surprise for once, mostly. Mmmm that I cannot say. We’ll have to see.Thank you for your vote! Apologies for taking so long with the fic.

[foxberrywrites]

i am scared of choosing the bad option but...K1 and crossed fingers. keep up with your nice work :D

I think many people are at this stage. It’s hard to choose, but it needs to be done. Thank you for the vote!I hope to keep it up! Thank you. May I be able to update more regularly than I have recently!

[foxberrywrites]

Echo Chamber will have a new update very soon! I’ve been working on a few other deadlines I’ve had lately over the Christmas and New Year period and now I’m finally free to work on that again. 

Sorry for the month delay.

[foxberrywrites]

College AU | Klunk | Voltron Legendary Defender (VLD)

This is my gift for @namisflowershop for the @voltron-ss!

Pairing: Klunk [Keith/Lance/Hunk]

Summary:

The walk across the campus is what set Hunk’s heart racing more than anything else. Even more so than Keith’s call, insisting that he come down to that one shady spot out behind the engineering building as it was a matter of the utmost importance. Nothing good can be that important to be called in the middle of his study period.

Excerpt:

Lance nudges Keith and starts to take over the conversation. “You should probably sit down, or something… This isn’t easy to say. We’re a bit nervous to be honest with you.” He holds his hand up to show his fingers shaking on their own accord. “We didn’t know how else to… It’s really hard to… Basically we really need to tell you something and we thought this would probably be the best way considering that we’re all here and your dorm isn’t too far away, so--”

Read it on AO3.

[foxberrywrites]

What Makes a Wingman [NSFW]

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII - Part VIII - Part IX - Part X - Part XI - Part XII - Part XIII (Final)

Also on AO3

Marco leaned forward and brushed his lips over Jean’s mid-sigh. Seeing his eyes so close, their faces barely a breath apart, sent a shiver down his spine. He bucked his hips at the thought that he’d wanted this, not just the sex but the intimacy, the laughter, the kissing. He gave in to his desires and brought his lips back against Jean’s, gasping between rolls of his hips.

His legs felt like they were on fire, nerves tingling up and down his body from where Jean touched him to where their lips met to where Jean’s dick thrust up into him again and again. His hands wandered to Jean’s shoulders, struggling to hold himself up and lean forward and keep touching as much as he was able. He didn’t want to lose that feeling of all of him, of the warmth when their bodies met.

Keep reading

[foxberrywrites]

What Makes a Wingman [NSFW]

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII - Part VIII - Part IX - Part X - Part XI - Part XII - Part XIII (Final)

Also on AO3

Marco leaned forward and brushed his lips over Jean's mid-sigh. Seeing his eyes so close, their faces barely a breath apart, sent a shiver down his spine. He bucked his hips at the thought that he'd wanted this, not just the sex but the intimacy, the laughter, the kissing. He gave in to his desires and brought his lips back against Jean's, gasping between rolls of his hips.

His legs felt like they were on fire, nerves tingling up and down his body from where Jean touched him to where their lips met to where Jean's dick thrust up into him again and again. His hands wandered to Jean's shoulders, struggling to hold himself up and lean forward and keep touching as much as he was able. He didn't want to lose that feeling of all of him, of the warmth when their bodies met.

"Jean," he moaned through huffed breath after huffed breath. He wasn't sure he would be capable of much speech at all with how thoroughly Jean kept on thrusting. His rhythm sent shocks through him, over and over, moving and grabbing at every piece of skin his hands could reach.

Jean gasped and bit his lip, releasing it once again to exhale his hot breath against Marco's neck. He could barely look Marco in the eye, too focussed on watching the way Marco's hips moved under his fingers when he wasn't rolling his eyes back in his head. "Fuck, Marco. I've gotta..." He tugs at Marco's hips, pulling him into a faster speed and slamming into him whenever the movement permitted him.

"Yeah, hhhnnnnn, keep on..." Marco approved with a low groan. Everything felt so hot and intense, waves rocking through him, distorting his sense of time. He thanked his lucky stars that Jean was happy enough to guide him. It was all too much. "Oh god."

Jean's hands moved to Marco's chest and pushed against it, his fingers digging into the muscle. "Sit up for me," he commanded with the soft tone of need. He sounded like he was close to begging, wanting something that he couldn't communicate any better. Marco had never heard that tone of his sound so good.

Obliging Jean's request, Marco moved up into a seated position, his hands dragging across Jean's chest, his fingernails leaving red streaks in their wake. "Wh-what?" he asked when he peered down at the pleasant visage he saw before him. Jean's hair was askew, messed up but still carelessly styled as always. His eyes shone with a mixture of lust and satisfaction, glistening with a sense of wonder that Marco had never seen before, and his heart ached at the sight of it.

"I want to watch you," Jean explained. His voice hinted at a sense of embarrassment before his face glowed with a warm but gentle pink. It spread down his neck, settling alight a spark of determination in Marco to see the man he loved come undone as much as he wished to do the same.

Marco clawed into the soft part of Jean's stomach. He wondered whether he would be able to feel the nerves in his skin if he grabbed hard enough. Instead he could feel Jean's muscles tensing and the way his chest rose and fell. One of Marco's hands slid forward to feel Jean's breathing beneath his fingertips. "Ahhhhnnn," he agreed with a deep groan, adjusting himself to take all of Jean's cock again.

Stretching his neck and pressing his shoulders back, Jean searched over Marco's body with his gaze. His eyebrows furrowed into a line of concentration, his mouth parting to form desperate words, "I think I'm---" His gasp cut him short and he gave into a fast rhythm of thrusts and groans while his hand dove forward to wrap around Marco's dick bobbing before him.

"Please, please, just... oh god." Marco shuddered at the touch and found himself reduced to little more than sounds as Jean's hand worked him harder and faster. His eyes stared down, thankful and blissful, stuck somewhere between a dream and a fantasy, unable to truly believe he was there right at that moment. His heart felt like it might burst, if not for the thumb rubbing over the tip of his cock drawing him back to reality.

Jean looked positively wrecked for all the lying he'd been doing. Somewhere between relief and pleasant surprise, his mouth opened and tried to speak. Words were lost between groans taking over his throat. His hand gripped and pumped as fast as it could go, trying desperately to spur Marco into orgasm. "Fuck, oh fuck, oh-oh-Marco!"

Marco could feel it all, see Jean's o-face as his eyelids fluttered and his mouth parted once again around a silent moan. His shoulders and his head threw back into the bed as his hips thrust up hard and his legs shuddered until the movements slowed again. Marco was sure he had never seen something as hot as Jean coming.

The very sight and sensation of Jean tipping over the edge had Marco following not long after. With a last few rolls over his hips, he reached his peak and jolted forward, catching himself on Jean's chest. He came over Jean's fingers and stomach with thick spurts, thrusting into Jean's slowing hand. He'd never felt so happy to be so vulnerable and exposed. He would have done it all again if he wasn't so content in his exhaustion.

Marco sighed with a laugh. His lungs hadn't quite caught up yet, but his muscles had just enough strength to push himself off Jean's cock and fall down to the bed beside him. "Shit." Whether the pillow beneath his cheek felt cold or he really did feel that warm and fuzzy, Marco couldn't tell, but he knew that feeling of contentment and elation in his chest wasn't just the endorphins.

"Come now, I wasn't that bad," Jean teased and elbowed him in the ribs. His laugh brought a smile to Marco's face, but the look in Jean's eyes when their gaze met had him forgetting how to breath again. The sheen of sweat covering Jean's face made his smile even brighter under the hotel room lights. He was sure that this moment, right here, was the most attractive he had ever seen Jean, and he wanted to burn that image into his brain forever.

Marco swallowed and licked his lips at the thought that barely an hour or so earlier they had been sitting in the bar, looking at girl after girl and trying to hook up. Now here Marco was, staring at the one person he'd truly been with all night. It felt right, like it had been in front of his face all that time, and he had to wonder if everyone else had seen what was between them before he had.

Struggling to find words, he moved closer, threw an arm over Jean's chest, and buried his face into Jean's shoulder. The humming from his chest sent his lips vibrating against the sensitive skin of Jean's neck and earned him a light laugh in response. Nothing could beat this moment as they swam through the bliss surrounding them both.

"So," Marco began, hesitating with every word he spoke, "I guess... both of us... won... huh?" He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. He could fall asleep right here and wake up and it would make him absurdly happy for a length of time he couldn't measure. He was pretty absurdly happy at that moment, and he knew he would continue to feel that way.

Jean nodded with a smirk, his eyes falling to consider Marco's face briefly before he got up to clean himself off. He left a very warm spot on the bed in his short absence and his return seemed to be even hotter when he returned, walking back with such a confidence in his nudity. He was far too okay with being naked in front of Marco.

Seeing the look on his face, Jean shrugged and jumped into the bed. "What? It's you. I've got nothing to hide." He laughed and touched the tip of Marco's nose before he leaned in to kiss it. "I mean, I'm nervous, don't get me wrong, but you're... you, and I..."

Marco's eyebrows rose and he grew impatient at the long silence that filled the room. Jean's face flushed with pink while he avoided Marco's eyes. He was so close that Marco could watch the way his eyelashes moved, so beautiful and curved that he had to resist the urge to hurry forward to kiss his eyelids, then every other part of his body.

"You what?" he asked quietly as if asking it just above a whisper might mean he got the answer quicker. He suspected Jean might be telling him exactly what he wanted to hear, what he has fantasised for so long that hearing it might make him implode. "What do you want to tell me?" That shouldn't sound too desperate. He didn't want to sound desperate, even if that was exactly what he was.

Jean shuffled forward so close to touch the tip of Marco's nose with his own. His eyes snapped up, staring deep into Marco's eyes with a sense of determination and urgency. "I... think... I... love you?" His gulp was audible and his body froze.

Marco couldn't bare to move in case he might wake up from this dream he seemed to have found himself in. "I think I love you too?" He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. It was probably too early to say anything else, even if he suspected he had loved Jean for a very long time and he just hadn't let it feel real.

"So we both think we love each other?" Jean asked and tested a nervous smile on his face. "That probably means we... hah! That's, um, that's... great?" A series of expression played across his features from furrowed brows to sad smiles and the cautious breath of elation parting his lips.

Marco closed his eyes and pushed his forehead against Jean's, hiding in the illusion that Jean couldn't see how embarrassed he was. "Who am I kidding? I love you." His throat felt so dry and his nerves were shaking while his body turned to stone. He burnt hot as his body shivered. "Of course I do."

Jean lifted his chin and pulled him into a kiss, desperate and exploring, still unsure where their lips and tongue should meet. It was more of a mess, but perhaps that's just how they were, struggling to find how they fit together. When they ran out of breath, Jean sighed and huffed, "Guess I'm pretty sure I love you. How could I not?" His hand brushed through Marco's hair then caressed down his neck. "I don't know if I'll be able to fall asleep with you here."

"Neither," Marco agreed, letting his own hand explore Jean's body, leaving lingering touches while his eyes stared for as long as the night would let him. It wasn't long before his eyelids grew heavy and his eyes started stinging. He tried to push through and stay awake, live longer in this moment that he had dreamed of for so long and convinced himself would never be.

Sleep took him like Jean took his hand, gentle and reassuring, luring him into a sense of comfort that Marco would find in the morning with a smile. He slept with the reassurance that after a long night he'd been a good wingman after all, but instead of helping Jean get laid, he'd helped himself find what he had been hoping for.

And that’s it for “What Makes a Wingman”. I hope you enjoyed the story. Please let me know what you think on Tumblr or on AO3. Thanks for reading!

[foxberrywrites]

NSFW ABO Modern AU | Shklance | Voltron Legendary Defender (VLD)

This is my gift for @voltic-mayhem for the @voltron-ss!

Pairing: Shklance [Shiro/Keith/Lance]

Summary:

Working in the Christmas period has worn Lance down to the point he can’t remember whether he’s taken his suppressants. Not only does he have to deal with the exhaustion when he gets home but his two frustratingly attractive housemates that seem content to flaunt themselves over the living room couch.

Excerpt:

If it weren’t for the exhaustion, Lance might have squeaked, made some kind of sound across his already weary vocal cords, but he stood still, staring back completely wordless. It took a moment for him to come back into himself and when he did, he forced a smile and trudged on past the two of them. Refusing to look at them any longer might make the growing ache in his chest go away. There was only so long he could look at them like that without feeling more alone for the holiday season.

Read it on AO3.

[foxberrywrites]

NSFW ABO Modern AU | Shklance | Voltron Legendary Defender (VLD)

This is my gift for @voltic-mayhem for the @voltron-ss!

Pairing: Shklance [Shiro/Keith/Lance]

Summary:

Working in the Christmas period has worn Lance down to the point he can't remember whether he's taken his suppressants. Not only does he have to deal with the exhaustion when he gets home but his two frustratingly attractive housemates that seem content to flaunt themselves over the living room couch.

Excerpt:

If it weren’t for the exhaustion, Lance might have squeaked, made some kind of sound across his already weary vocal cords, but he stood still, staring back completely wordless. It took a moment for him to come back into himself and when he did, he forced a smile and trudged on past the two of them. Refusing to look at them any longer might make the growing ache in his chest go away. There was only so long he could look at them like that without feeling more alone for the holiday season.

Read it on AO3.

[foxberrywrites]

NSFW Modern AU | Shklance | Voltron Legendary Defender (VLD)

A bingo board exchange gift for Reba based on a handful of her favourite kinks.

Pairing: Shklance [Shiro/Keith/Lance]

Summary:

They’ve had this planned since the first night Shiro had spoken about his scars. Blemishes on his skin he had called them, permanent reminders of the horrors in his past. He tried to hide them, covering the parts of his body that were the worst affected. They were light marks of raised skin or the hints of deeper gashes, still just the slightest tint of red. They make no difference to Lance or Keith, and they’re determined to show him that.

Excerpt:

Lance takes the brush from his bowl, chocolate thickly dripping off the tip. “Every time I number one, right?” he asks with a sly glance at Keith. It can never hurt to check and Lance has been nothing but devoted to Keith’s idea. It’s mere seconds before Keith smiles back and nods. On his cue, Lance starts to write over a scar on Shiro’s shoulder. “One.”

The cold touch of chocolate on his skin makes Shiro’s jolt. He likely didn’t expect that, nor would he have expected their counting. Keith knows it signals a hint of their intentions, but he enjoys the expressions that cross Shiro’s face. He’s already loving and hating where this is going from what Keith can tell.

Read it on AO3.

[foxberrywrites]

Soulmate AU | Sheith | Voltron Legendary Defender (VLD)

Written for @riverbanks for the @voltronexchange. I decided to combine a handful of the prompts all into one idea with a twist. I hope you like it!

Pairing: Sheith [Shiro/Keith]

Summary:

Soulmate dreams were likely fantasies society had fabricated as a new fairytale. Dreams were meant to give glimpses of a connection, of moments, but no story had ever been the same, no story ever went the same. Where one found solace in those glimpses, the other was left dreading each moment spent asleep.

Excerpt:

The first time Shiro noticed his dreams was the week before he was due to leave on the Kerberos mission. It hadn’t been anything special up to that point. They’d simply been glimpses of dust and dirt, expanses of nothing with bleak horizons, and walls closing in the more that he seemed to stare at them in his dreams. They were nothing out of the ordinary, until he could almost taste them.

The dirt clung to his hair, strangely unkempt and blowing in the breeze. The sun was blistering in moments and blinded his eyes while the sweeping winds grazed his face. There was shelter, although small, that enclosed him every time he blinked, bringing him back to the same place in the middle of the desert. Its sand was gritty in his mouth, like salt on the tongue, strange and foreign.

It was the chilling loneliness that hit him. The idea of being somewhere new, unfamiliar, and alone. That was what got under his skin, squirming and itching at the nerves already tense with the preparations for a long voyage. He shrugged them off, convinced they were his fears manifested, but he couldn’t shake how real everything had felt.

Read it on AO3.

[foxberrywrites]

Masseur AU | Hance | Voltron Legendary Defender (VLD)

This fic is based on the original Masseur AU twitter thread that I started just over a month ago. It was only meant to be one entertaining scene full of innuendo based on one of my own experiences but it turned into so much more.

Pairing: Hance [Hunk/Lance]

Summary:

Stressed out from his first week with a new ballet company, Lance books a massage and finds himself smitten by the masseur, Hunk.

Excerpt:

Lance nervously takes a seat on the table and fiddles with his hands in his lap. The sheets look so pristine and fresh in their array of folds around his knees. "I need whatever is going to relax me." So far, Lance only feels more and more tense as he watches Hunk move silently from cabinet to cabinet to get things ready.

"The full package?" Hunk replies at first without looking Lance’s way. He’s already deep into the cupboard, humming as he pulls out a few things here and there, and when he seems satisfied he turns to wait an answer. He clasps his big hands before his stomach with such a patient look on his face, fingers moving and pressing into his own skin as if getting ready.

Lance has no idea what he means and nods slowly. His face might be blushing already. It certainly feels warmer just thinking about all the things a full package could mean. Thankfully Hunk doesn’t seem to notice, not even when Lance’s eyes dart south. His attention seems to be moving around the room.

Read it on AO3.

[foxberryblue]

Christmas Retail AU | JeanMarco | Shingeki no Kyojin (SNK)

Surprise, @commodorecliche! I’m your secret santa! I really hope you like your gift. I couldn’t resist writing about wrapping gifts as I do that as part of my job at Christmas!

Pairing: Jeanmarco [ Jean Kirschtein / Marco Bodt ]

Summary:

Earning a little extra cash for the holidays by wrapping gifts seemed like a walk in the park for Marco Bodt, but by the end of Christmas Eve he can’t wait for it all to be over. As his shift ends, a handsome stranger turns up last minute wanting all of his presents wrapped. His timing couldn’t have been more frustrating.

Excerpt:

“Think you can wrap all of these for me?” the man asks, tipping out a shopping bag with at least seven gifts at Marco’s count. Each one is more awkwardly shaped than the last. It looks like a collection of last minute gifts if Marco has ever seen one. There’s a mixture of body creams and lipglosses, a handful of dvds, a soccer ball, and a collection of strange-looking plush toys.

Marco holds his tongue, biting the tip to suppress the frustration at how long each of these gifts is going to take to wrap, and wrap neatly . “Of course. That won’t be too much of a problem.” The lie tastes bitter on the end of his tongue. Burnt coffee might have tasted better. “It’ll be $2 per gift.” Marco gestures over the array before him with a tight smile.

Read it on AO3.

[foxberrywrites]

Echo Chamber

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII - Part VIII Part IX - Part X - Part XI - Part XII - Part XIII

Also on AO3

Shiro waits to hear more of the transmission. He grips the communicator tighter in the hope it will speak before he has to. It crackles to life again a moment later, voice warped through the screeching of the electronic device. "Please respond. Please respond."

A deep sigh follows from Shiro's chest and he comes up with the only answer to Lance's question he can offer, "We just... wait..." He stares at the communicator and wishes for the sounds to stop, for something else to come through. He's not going to respond without knowing who he's responding to this time. He needs to know for sure that he's not about to jeopardise them all.

Lance gulps and shifts uncomfortably at Shiro's decision. He doesn't seem happy by any of it, getting closer to Shiro's side despite how pained he seems scuttling on his knees. "It... they... want us to respond?"

Shiro nods, but doesn't look up. The blinking light of the communicator has caught his eye and he finds himself stuck with thoughts of Pidge and their safety. He wonders whether he might have found them already if he had gone a different way. But then he may have never found Keith... but then his arm might still work...

"And we won't..." he mumbles back with conviction. He looks up and catches the glimpse of concern and horror in Lance's eyes. He shakes it away under Shiro's watch as if it it was never there, but the way he holds himself tells a different story. He's worried.

Lance moves to Shiro's side and leans against him. There's a shake in him that's struggling to stay under his skin. His eyes dart uneasily from the communicator to the peaceful look on Keith's face. "What if..." His voice trails off, unable to speak the frightening thoughts swirling in his mind.

Staring back at the communicator, jaw clenched, Shiro affirms, "We wait." He can feel the instant regret at the tension in his muscles, at the stern, blunt sound of his voice, but he needs something to fall back on. If he's not the strong one now, even with all of the bruises and bandages, he doesn't know what might happen to either Lance or Keith.

The loud insistent crackling and roaring of the communicator disrupts them like rolling waves crashing against a rocky shore. A haunting voice comes through the speaker as if it's trying to tear through the very speaker itself. "If I could just..." Lance flinches and presses himself up against Shiro's shoulder as more words tumble out of the device clenched in Shiro's hand.

"Yell... Li... Ye... Lion. Do you read?" growls the communicator. The message is barely more than a burst of noises, sparks of someone speaking. It comes through clearer, still so distorted that the sound is more akin to a beast from the depths of space than anything Shiro can recognise. "Does anyone read? That's how this thing works, yeah?"

Lance's eyes open wide and he scrambles for the communicator, ripping it from Shiro's hands. He almost falls into Shiro's lap with how quickly he rushes forward to press down the button to answer the message. "Hunk!"

Shiro freezes, torn between the terror of inciting whatever or whoever is on the other end and the bitter relief that Hunk may truly be speaking to them. They have no sign of whether or not it really is him beyond a few distorted fragments. Shiro wishes he could feel the same hope Lance has written all over his face.

"I mean... Blue Lion. How do you copy? Over," Lance calls into the microphone, holding it so close to his face he might as well be kissing it. His fingers curl around the communicator so desperately, leaning forward and keeping still like any movement might disturb the tentative connection.

A crackle answers back at first. Another warping sound of feedback and some other high-pitched sound follows. At last a voice comes through, a tad clearer, but still distorted beyond what Shiro would consider human. "Hello?"

Lance bites his lips and peers up at Shiro. His eyes look so hopeful, so desperate, that Shiro wonders how he could have been capable of shooting either of them earlier. "Blue Lion. Blue Lion. Do you copy?" His voice shakes between every glance he takes to check that he sounds okay, that he has Shiro's approval. All Shiro can do is watch and nod, knowing that the plan to wait has already evaporated. "Lance?!" calls through with a distinct clarity. It freezes both Lance and Shiro to their positions, mixing with the concoction of dread and hope already mixing in their stomachs. Shiro suspects he feels it a lot more than Lance does.

Elated by the recent news, Lance grins with a cautious smile. "He can hear us!" His eyes dart down to Keith who stirs at his sudden exuberance. He pulls a face and mouths a silent 'Sorry'. He presses the button down again. "Oh, thank god you're okay. How are you? Over."

The voice flickers between electronic garbling to something more human, more familiar. The more that Shiro wills himself to believe it, the more he can hear the warmth that he remembers in Hunk's voice, even with a few words. Though it feels so long since he last heard it. "Uh... Lost?"

"Are you hurt?" Lance asks, throwing aside all communication protocol. Normally Shiro would have cut in, told Lance to be clearer, ask the right questions, but he finds himself growing more tired as he listens. His eyes start to close with exhaustion creeping up his back. He wonders where Lance has gained this energy all of a sudden.

Hunk's laughter comes down the line, desperate and tired and squeaking with uncertainty, but there's a lightheartedness that says he's not too bad. "I mean, things hurt, but they're not too bad. Are you okay? Where are you? Lance, you've got to be careful I've heard---" The line cuts out with a screech and the sound of static.

Lance smacks the communicator against his hand. It rattles and cracks a little down the side, splitting the case where the plastic is weak. Lance doesn't seem to notice at all, pressing down the button and screaming into it. "Hunk, are you there? Hello?"

Shiro darts out his hand and catches Lance's in his, stopping his frantic shaking dead. They share a look for a cold second and Shiro has to remember how busted up he looks and how frightening he must look with frustration mixed into his features. "Connection's not working." As much as they can try again and again to contact Hunk, for now it's a hopeless endeavour, especially considering what shape they're all in.

Lance clears his throat and sits back up, leaving a gap between himself and Shiro. "What do we do now?" His eyes cast themselves to the ground. The disappointment has settled in him and defeat seems to have already overwhelmed him.

Shiro's heart aches at having to experience the same gut-wrenching loss of connection with one of their team. He's sure from watching it this time that he got off easy last time. He loosens his grip and moves it to rub over Lance's shoulder, trying to be reassuring. "I'm tired. Keith's... asleep. You... How are you doing?"

Lance's features soften, eyebrows raising. "I'm doing okay..." He pauses to stare at Shiro's hand brushing over his skin, how his fingers circle over the soft fabric of his shirt. "More relieved than a moment before."

A yawn breaks through Shiro's soft smile. His face stings at the sudden movement, but he ignores it like he's ignored every other ache and scratch so far. The need for rest, however, is catching up to him. "You think you can not shoot us and keep guard? I... need rest. Shut my eyes for a little. Not long."

While Shiro becomes victim to another yawn, eyes watering and body slumping, Lance besides him nods with enthusiasm. "Yeah, course, yeah, definitely," he rambles off, seeming grateful for the distraction or desperately needing to be needed somehow.

"Good. That's good, Lance," Shiro laughs through yet another yawn, wondering when he might just fall to the ground. Anywhere seems comfortable now. His body slumps down, awkwardly shuffling with Keith sleeping softly on his thigh. The movement doesn't seem to bother him at all.

Lance sits cross-legged and pats his thighs before he rubs them then removes his hands just as quickly. He seems a blur of skin and clothes from Shiro's sleepy vision. "You can... my lap? Better than the floor." His voice is still just as shaky, but he sounds sincere. Shiro sighs and concentrates to push the tension out of his body. Without another word he leans over, shuffles, and lets his head rest wherever he feels most comfortable.

Shiro...

K1. lies down and presses a cheek against Lance's thigh K2. falls to his side and against Lance's chest

Make your vote by December 18th 7:00pm EST

[foxberrywrites]

ohhh more interesting things happening~ i wonder when/where lance got a first aid kit or smt similiar.. also wouldn't allura and coran call them paladins instead of humans if they tried to contact them? *squints* it's fun trying to figure these things out~ J2

Definitely. There’s always more developments and for once it’s not so bad. Yes, you have a really good point on that. They probably would. You’ll just have to see who’s on the other end in the next chapter ;)Thank you for the vote!