[hericarus]

#HERICARUS. a private, essentially friends only lance mcclain ranch worship blog in which i, bat, never shut up about my beloved rarepair. run as a sideblog to #EXGHUL.

heavily affiliated with #HISHELIOS as the other half of the ranch bottle.

[rpvisualosities]

[valtsv]

i can't vibe with anyone who thinks icarus was an ignorant idiot for flying too close to the sun. "oh i'd never do that i would have remembered my father's warning and been fine". do you seriously think that after years of imprisonment, feeling the sun on your face and the open air beneath your wings, you would be able to focus on anything but the joy of being alive and free? do you actually think that if you were given the opportunity to go where nobody has never been before, you wouldn't want to push it to the limit? to dare to be the first to try what no one else has ever even thought possible? do you honestly think you're too good for your own human nature? look me in the eyes and tell me if i strapped a pair of wings to your back that could take you wherever you wanted to go whenever you pleased that you'd be careful and sensible about it. you are not better than icarus just because you have the benefit of his example.

[valtsv]

[ikimaru]

have some lanceys! :>

[marksmcn-deactivated20180722]

I cannot keep you and I cannot let you go.

DEATHLESS.

“—Then what is there to be done?” He chokes on the words, daring his heart to do that familiar squeeze, tired muscles aching with old wounds bleeding anew.

Faint dimples, ever present, are nowhere in sight as glassy eyes fall to the floor. He’s already cried on her more times than he can count ( she brings out the saddest and most vulnerable parts of him ). Not again.

Eyes shutter as he feels the itch of new tears pricking beneath his eyelids. He can’t make himself walk away from her but he can’t hold her. Her thorns are catching in his trembling hands, ripping flesh from bone.

She’s a drug in his system, her absence breaking his will to go on whereas her presence is like slowly suffocating as she draws the breathe from his lungs with her every word. He’s addicted to her pain now, tearing himself apart to just get another glimpse of the woman he fell for.

There is no solution to this pain. No cure for her intoxication.

“You’ll have to choose eventually.” The moment the words leave his mouth, he wishes he could take them back. As if trying to hold them back, a hand ghosts over his lips.

It’s too late.

“I can’t bear to let you go.” He would watch a thousands worlds burn to hold her to his chest ( and he hates himself for how selfish that is ).

If she chooses to walk away of her own volition, he won’t dare chase her.

He’s done that for far too many years.

[rpvisualosities]

[emoticlysm]

what about ranch, the superior ship : ^)))

█ ▌ ▐⌠☁⌡i’m not romantic / i’mnot with the antics || accepting.

ranch, the superior ship dressing for thy superior salad hetero needs!!

I Love Being Heterosexual™ Part 2

Send me a ship, and I’ll tell you…

1. Made the first move: smh, these two play too much, and it takes forever for something to happen, like, their teammates are just ‘ zzz ‘ over how much they beat around the bush…but i feel like lance would ask raven to hang out, and she’d accidentally say something like, ‘ sure, it’s a date ‘, and he’d be like, ‘ okay, bet ;) ‘, and she’s just, ‘ yeah…sure…bet… ‘, and things finally happen.2. The big spoon: LMFAO, lance is legitimately an entire foot taller than raven…so, it’s him. he teases her about it constantly, and she’s like, ‘ …just shut up and hold me ‘.3. The little spoon: raven.4. The cuddler: lance, but he’s a sweetheart who gets worried about not giving raven the space she needs, so she ends up being the one to start things to make him feel less anxious!!5. Cries during movies: both of them stay sad as fuck all the time, so both of them cry during every sad movie…but because they’re the Real Emo Hours Gang™, they’re chill about it.6. More affectionate: i think both of them, but since lance is naturally better at being both verbally and physically affectionate, he’s more overt about it ( raven tries, though ).7. Their favorite non-sexual activity: dancing together in raven’s room….especially late at night when they can’t sleep….8. More nervous to meet the parents: both of them have shit self-esteem, so they’re both really nervous about meeting each other’s parents. i think raven would be slightly more nervous, though just because lance’s family means everything to him, so of course…she wants to make the best first impression she possibly can.9. More protective/jealous: both of them. they make their protective sides pretty clear, but raven’s worse about hiding her jealousy, considering how lance has a history of flirting with girls. it’s moreover paranoia than anything, though, and he’s usually good about reassuring her.10. Sneaks into the shower with the other in the mornings:11. Initiates sexy times the most:12. Fuck or make love:13. Behind the wheel more often during road trips: lance.14. Gives the silent treatment when they’re mad at each other: raven, but because of Real Emo Hours™, he’s used to it, and they can figure something out.15. Reaches for the other’s hand first: surprisingly enough, it’s raven. i can see them not being a very physically affectionate couple at first because she’s bad about touch, but it winds up making lance lowkey sad…and ofc, she doesn’t want him to feel like that, so one day, while they’re out, she just…grabs his hand and kind of leans on him and realizes, ‘ okay, well, this isn’t so bad. we should do it more often. ‘16. Whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear at inappropriate times: lance, but this surprises absolutely no one.17. Comes up with cheesy pick-up lines: lance, but again, this is 0% surprising. raven thinks they’re cute sometimes, though, so it’s okay.

[emoticlysm]

♤ pfft i didn't send u one earlier im a scrub

█ ▌ ▐⌠☁⌡so, what are we really? || no longer accepting.

» send a ♤ for a headcanon about our muses’ relationship

every now and then, raven forgets to trim her hair, and if not that, then she just isn’t up to doing so. lance notices this one day while they’re hanging out, and out of sheer curiosity, he asks if he can braid her hair. because raven didn’t have much of a childhood, she never had anyone do anything with her hair aside from cut it, so she agrees. 

then, when he’s finished, raven’s really impressed and likes the way that her hair looks, like, ‘ wow, you did a great job…mbn ‘. of course, she’s too embarrassed / ashamed to explicitly admit that she can’t do braids, but from that point and onward, she cuts her hair less than she usually does just so she can ask lance to braid it.

[emoticlysm]

slllllllams into your ask with a 🐤!

█ ▌ ▐⌠☁⌡boy, @ me next time… || accepting.

[emoticlysm]

❛ i desire the things that will destroy me in the end. ❜

█ ▌ ▐⌠☁⌡emo in the womb, emo in the tomb || no longer accepting

█ ▌ ▐⌠☁⌡

Admittedly, it’s not the first time she’s questioned, with the weak bray of her heart, if it was worth it—if THEY were worth it. There was no denying the depth of her feelings and the meaning they brought to a life as f a t a l i s t i c as hers; all the while, Raven had welcomed, with heavy arms and a heavier heart, the sheer destruction she was meant to afflict upon this world. It focused her undivided attention on the futureand the future alone, with no room nor reason to refocus elsewhere…

…Then there HE was: a reason to smile, a reason to laugh, a reason to care,infinite reasons to look forward to each passing moment, no matter that theyall gave way to her demise—the day she was taught to fear the most. For Lance had granted her much more than just singing karaoke off-key and foolishlydancing in the rain and eating pints upon pints of ice cream at five in the morning.

He had granted her freedom—a freedom to be opportunistic, to seize life by the reins and live in the ‘ now ‘ ( the future seemed less daunting, almost foreign, to her, thanks to his doing ).

A feeble smile goads Raven’s visage, but it falls the moment her eyes crawl upto meet his. They should give this up. It was doomed from the start, not  worth what d e s t i n y had in store for her, the hell she would put him through…

…Still, something of selfishness ( or was it childish hope? ) guides her hand upward to caress his face. Fingers r e g r e t f u l l y trace over his jawline. The smile revisits her lips, ever sad and wistful.

            ❝——Sorry that I have to be one of them.❞

[emoticlysm]

❝ say you love me. ❞

█ ▌ ▐⌠☁⌡kehlani-based sentence starters. || no longer accepting.

█ ▌ ▐⌠☁⌡

Why, oh why, did he insist on making her a home when she could hardly shelter her OWN heart, let alone two? 

She had long since scrapped her ‘ welcome ‘ mat; this house was not built for c o m p a n y.

Maybe these past few months had been a mistake, never mind that Raven had spent them all in camaraderie. She never expected to find k i n s h i p with Team Voltron, countless moments ardently fighting and training and bleeding by their sides juxtaposed with tender silences and lighthearted banter over green goo…and yet, this same kinship—these same moments—were p r i c e l e s s,resounding in her with a conviction more irrefutable than the prophecy itself.

But in the end, nothing was priceless. There was a cost to everything.

Unfortunately, love was her price to pay. Shame she could not afford any of its demands, whether they be tired blue eyes…raucous ( but endearing ) laughter…

…The arms that were holding her at that very moment.

She and Lance are but a few inches apart from one another, yet somehow worldsapart at the same time. It physically hurts to look up at him, knowing that the desperate hope enlivening his features would be dashed in just seconds. So, her gaze remains cemented on the floor, her own arms dropping from around his shoulders to their sides.

❝I…❞ I love you. ❝I can’t.❞ There’s a distinct quaver to Raven’s tone as she speaks, but it flees as shortly as it came, dampened by something of sheer willpower. ❝Weshouldn’t be doing this. Not now.❞ Not ever.  Signature FLATNESS now infiltrates her tone. She couldn’t allow him to see how much it ached for her to say that, otherwise he may never give up ( but isn’t that what she wanted? ). And despite the tears that threatened to stain her cheeks, the empath refuses to give way. She had to be cold.

Tight-lipped. 

Loveless as ever.

Gaze still averted, Raven’s hands feebly grasp Lance’s arms, pulling them downward, guiding them away from her. She then takes a t r e m b l i n g step backward before facingthe other direction, her back now completely to him. ❝Lance, there’s no point in dwelling on an ‘ US ‘—not when we have responsibilities to tend to, not when the fate of the universe remains at stake.❞ With a reluctant flourish, Raven begins to walk away…but not before turning her head one last time, eyes, sunken and tear-filled, finally rising skyward to meet his.

                       ❝Besides.You deserve better.❞

[emoticlysm]

“By ‘lit’, I mean LITerally on the verge of drowning the world in our angst.”

█ ▌ ▐⌠☁⌡god save our idiot souls. || no longer accepting.

█ ▌ ▐⌠☁⌡

        ❝———Sounds compelling.❞

Lips are quick to curve into a small smile, one that is ultimately o b s c u r e d byher book. Still, half-lidded eyes lift from its pages in favor of locking with the other’s, softened ever so slightly by excitement. Although she wasn’t quite sure what enabled this ( unorthodox ) routine to begin with, Raven found herself spending more time with Lance, her mediocre eight hours of sleep exchanged for humbling, even SOMBER, late-night chats; all she truly remembers is not having spoken much at first, simply listening tohis rambling and occasional attempts at jokes—cringey one-liners—to ease the tension.

After some time, however, she began to open up—words once stilted no longer CLUMSY onher tongue. And now, she feels like she could verbalize entire novels undaunted, unfiltered.

Raven would never admit this, of course. That much is evident as she finally sets her book down, smile having been cast aside with it. ❝Sure. Count me in—❞ She then reclines in her seat, chin nestled in her palm, an eyebrow chanced at her companion. ❝—Emphasis on the ‘ angst ‘, though. Bitter, b i t t e r angst. We’re putting sugar on the backburner because I still have cavities from the last ‘ pep talk ‘ you gave me.❞

[emoticlysm]

five times kissed !

█ ▌ ▐⌠☁⌡if it means a lot to you.

█ ▌ ▐⌠☁⌡

one // déjà vu.

           ❝Thank you for saving my life.❞

Dialogue is clumsy on her tongue, stilted as it departs her lips. To the empath’s dismay, her voice is just as uncertain, resounding with a timbre almost too shaky to be hers. She shifts uneasily in her chair. How strange—this debilitating change of pace when she was usually so quick to snap—but there was little she could do about it.

There was little she could do about the boy resting soundly in his bed, face blue with bruises and body swathed in bandages. Hell, she could barely even look at him.

‘ Don’t take any hits for me. ‘ had been her infamous mantra since siding with Voltron, uttered brusquely—repeatedly—before any battle, and for the most part, her teammates ( begrudgingly ) saw to it.

But she must have neglected to remind them this time of round. Otherwise, Lance wouldn’t have fought tooth and nail to keep her safe ( one, two, too many gunshots to the side was a sight she never wanted to see again ).

His sacrifice is now her burden to bear. Revisiting that battle is deadweight. Her own body knows it, too—slumped against the chair, sinking like a stone in the sea—so, she stands. The motion beckons her eyeline to lift alongside it, r e l u c t a n t gaze finally chancing a glimpse at her fallen teammate.

Soft blue eyes are sealed shut by fatigue, the ever-present smile upon his lips somehow absent. It was disheartening to think that somebody’s WARMTH couldbe turned cold—sapped in mere minutes, bled dry on an unforgiving battlefield. 

Yet this is what draws her nearer—what compels her head to a bow and her lips towistfully graze his cheek, as if the gesture would be enough to recall that warmth.

Her heart thrums with a strange rhythm the moment she retracts, the sensation aparadox of familiar and foreign. She guides a hand to her chest and opts for a stepback, mind frozen in time, entangled in an uncanny sense of…was it n o s t a l g i a?

It couldn’t have been—at least, not where Lance was concerned. Shewould have r e m e m b e r e d him like the back of her hand…right?

How would she dare forget?

Still, her lips quiver, now tinged by this same feeling.

He stirs. 

She leaves the room without a trace.

Keep reading

[emoticlysm]

slides a note at you an hour late

█ ▌ ▐⌠☁⌡would a dead girl lie?

█ ▌ ▐⌠☁⌡

Dear Lance,

If you’re reading this, it’s too late.

By the time you receive this, I’ll be gone…no more tricks, no more games, no more of Houdini’s vanishing acts—”gone” as in “gone for good”. Whether or not it’s by my own hand or somebody else’s is arbitrary, so don’t hurt yourself too much trying to figure it out. This is something I couldn’t foresee, let alone something we can take back.

Death doesn’t do return policies, after all.

Nevertheless, maybe you could riddle me this ( food for thought, if you will ): how do you say goodbye to somebody you love?

John Green would be crying buckets dare I confront him with this same question, but I digress; it’s something I can’t help but ask myself over and over as I write this letter to you. And chances are, it’s a question that I won’t be able to answer even after I’ve finished. I mean, I guess I could always settle for something vague. “Who cares?” “I don’t know.” “It’s complicated”.

Complicated.

That’s what we were. Of course, I wouldn’t have thought so the day we “first” met. When you tried to woo me with your B-rate one-liners, all I could think was, “Are you kidding me? This has to be a joke.”. It would have been a lot easier to just walk away right then and there…and had things not spiralled out of control like they did, I definitely would have…

…But one thing led to another, and sooner or later, I found myself an honorary member of your team. Part of me had hoped that joining Voltron would put your troubled mind at ease and, by some miracle, mine, too. It was a cinch, really…and if worse turned to worst, leaving would always be an option. Leaving is one of my specialties. You know this better than anyone. Things weren’t that black-and-white, though; they couldn’t be if we had anything to do with it.

Sure, the adjustment period was difficult—for you, for me, for everyone—but we all got through it ( mostly ) unscathed. From then on out, I started to feel more at ease with the team, and according to Hunk, it showed…slowly but surely. Whether that was through him teaching me how to cook or playing hooky with Pidge in the air vents or sulking to My Chemical Romance with Keith, I’m not exactly sure. All I knew, in that span of time, was that things between you and me were still rough around the edges.

It tormented me for the longest time, actually, knowing that our relationship was so rocky compared to my relationships with everyone else. Granted, I could sense something sad tense ambiguous about you every time I happened to be in the same room, but I couldn’t figure out why. My best guess was that I psyched you out—that you were afraid of annoying me or scaring me away—but at the same time, that seemed too superficial.

With the way you acted when we “first” met, it had to be something deeper…

…But I didn’t realize how deep it was until the night you opened your mind to me. “Scary” doesn’t even begin to describe my experience, but you probably picked up on that. Looking into people’s minds is usually a walk in the park for me—a practice I was used to back on Azarath—but with you, it really was…something else. Maybe it was my dour mood, having already lost control just moments before you lent me that headset. Maybe it was in your ( stubborn ) connection to your memories—your refusal to let them go, no matter how grim they were.

Or maybe it was seeing myself walking in shoes I don’t remember walking in and living a life that I had no recollection of.

In my haze, I asked to see more, more, and even more, until…well, we both know what happens next. It had to have been at least a dozen more of those memories before I bolted, shutting you out for weeks on end as if that’d somehow make things less painful for me. It didn’t.

Contrary to how distant I acted, I never stopped thinking about you during those long, grueling weeks.

The time I spent avoiding you, I used to figure out and practice a memory spell. At first, it felt like a waste of energy. I thought myself delusional trying to conjure memories that couldn’t be mine; I hadn’t ever even step foot on Earth.

Or so I thought.

Little by little, I started remembering things. Nothing cohesive came out of the first two days, but within the week, I had pieced together something surreal.

We were at the beach. Just the two of us. The sun had barely risen. The sky was this gorgeous blend of red and orange and violet. I swear we couldn’t have been any older than eleven, but we acted like we were on top of the world.

And between you swimming out too far/sucking face with an octopus and me having to jump in after you, I don’t think I ever laughed so much in my life.

I’m sorry I never told you. I’m sorry about a lot of things.

Unfortunately, there’s not much else I can remember about our time on Earth, aside from that and a few talks in your room. I’d been planning to continue practicing this spell with the hope that I could regain all of my memories and better understand what about me put you on edge—what we were to each other back then…

…But here’s what I do remember from our time here with Voltron, everything Earth-related aside. I remember the first time you made me laugh, even if I was in denial about it for hours later. I remember our three A.M. conversations, us toeing the thin line between snide remarks and crying our eyes dry. I remember teaching you how to dance, never mind that you could dance circles around me already, and how nervous I was about our first tango. I remember falling asleep in your arms, how comfortable and safe I was just knowing that you were by my side.

I know I said I felt at ease with our teammates…but with you, I felt at home.

Lance, I love you. Words cannot describe how much you mean to me. You have not only shown me boundless patience and kindness, but you’ve also given me a reason to hope—to believe that I deserve and am capable of so much more than I think. Fear and doubt is all I had ever known in my life—to be hated, to be misunderstood…even my own mother couldn’t look me in the eyes without a heavy heart. Yet, you had the strength to see past that and accept—even love—me in a way that I didn’t ever deem possible.

I think that’s what I admire about you the most—your power to see others in such a light. I’ve never met a more selfless, inspiring person—someone so accepting and so willing to understand people for who they are and not just who they seem to be. Never have I seen you lose faith in me or in our teammates, either, even when situations were less than promising; you always had something empowering to chip in about everyone, even if that meant selling yourself short in the process. Let it be known that you are just as deserving of the warmth that you radiate and the neverending encouragement you offer others. I can only hope that you one day see in yourself all the wonderful, worthwhile things you’ve managed to find in other people.

With that being said, don’t let my death be something that holds you back. Instead, let it be something that propels you forward. Lance, you have so much to live for and so many more things left to accomplish. For one, Voltron and the rest of the universe still needs you—everything that you’re capable of and everything that you stand for….where else are they going to find someone with your aim or someone as quick on their feet? Not only that, but at some point down the line, you’ll have a family to go back home to—a mother who sorely misses you and siblings who regret ever leaving you in the dust. They’re counting on you to carry on…

…And so am I. Lance, I promise that you will find a way to go on without me. For the universe’s sake and your own, you must. I’d never be able to forgive myself otherwise.

Wishing the one you love goodbye will never be an easy task, but I’ve now come to realize that not all goodbyes are said in vain. As cheesy as it sounds, I’d like to think that destiny is on our side; we lost each other once, but it’s as if fate itself conspired to help us find one another again.

Here’s to hoping that we’ll be just as lucky in the next lifetime.

Yours truly, Raven

[emoticlysm]

"everywhere you go, i go."

█ ▌ ▐⌠☁⌡PROTECTOR / PROTECTEE ( not accepting ).

█ ▌ ▐⌠☁⌡

           ❝——Do you really MEAN that?❞

To say the empath was ‘ touched ‘ would be a grave u n d e r s t a t e m e n t, as evidenced by her doe eyes and the knot tightening in her chest. She draws a hand nearer to him—as if to physically solidify that vow—only to have hergesture FALTER at the last minute, arm falling pathetically by the wayside.

How she yearned for such loyalty—a bond that would remain unsevered, untouched for years to come—and yet, she couldn’t afford to be so selfish, especially toward someone who was anything but.

And definitely not to Lance.

Raven could never be what he d e s e r v e d, not when she was bred as a lamb tobe slaughtered, not when he would remain stalwart at her side even at knifepoint.

So, she shakes her head at the him—slowly, sadly. ❝You shouldn’t say things like that so easily.❞ Her hands sink into the folds of her cloak, for fear that she would changeher mind and cling onto him for dear life. ❝Get your head out of the clouds.❞

[emoticlysm]

✨✨baby ranch with…a bottle of ranch✨✨

commissioned from the lovely @legcndaire!!

[aleikats]

It looked a lot better in my head lmao