Do not repost my art or writting without giving proper credit
I write and draw sometimes, slow as fuck too so I disappear constantly if I don't have a strong enough interest in the curent phase
Multifandom blog, we love selfinsert, ocs and xreaders here sir
Also may sometimes blog about what I'm curent seeing so reactions too I gues
I also tend to post about my ocs bc I have a plan to make a comic about them so feel free to ask about this too
Status:
Ask: permitted (anon is on. Behave)
Commission: art commission is open, writting commissions are not
So anyways masterposts and q&a dunno
Q&A
Can I use your art as banners or icons here on tumblr or another site?
Yes, as long as you give proper credit -> (minzart.tumblr)
Can I fandub one of your fancomics?
Yes, as long as you give proper credit on the video or in it's description-> (minzart.tumblr)
Can I repost your art?
Not without proper credit-> (minzart.tumblr), or at least keep my fucking watermark on the art thanks, bc if you have time to crop it or edit it out you have time to learn how to draw yourself
This is my take on Chains of Ethernity dance scene, by Cyrans' perspective, as a background to the small scene I actually wanted to write, and that is Young Cyran teaching young Merlin dance for wtv reason
Disclaimer I have watched glimpses of the event, and have yet to play it in full myself as the game is GATEKEEPING ME FROM CONTINUING- anyways, please forgive any inaccuracy I am impatiente to actulay meet this fucker
When the night arrives at the outskirts of Cedartown, the nobles of the city finally decide to partake in the festivities. It is only then that the Duke and his guest truly walk on through the perpetual snow-covered city to the direction of the Great wooden tree that is built every year diligently by its citizens
Torches warm the path to the center field as children, too preoccupied in their own little world, build snowmans fated to melt before the dance has even started due to the proximity of them to, what soon will be, a ball
A change has happened this time, allowed, of course, prepared absolutely. A man has entered the festival as if he had always attended it, for all intends and purposes he has. Dressed in the finest of silks and darkest of cloth, the court mage proceeds to talk around the noteworthy citizens of the dukedom he "serves"...
Archeduke Sigmund laughs at his side, but the tension growing ever so slight at his shoulders betray the humor of the man, he is breaking, and soon enough Cyran can be done with his roll in this plan and be back to proper civilization
Repeating the same day over and over is already getting on his nerves, by only magic and his own refusal to participate every time on the usual song and dance of the festivities is how his feet have not given up on him by now
True as it may be that it's attendants change, when the loop actualy allligs with the actual date it had started, it is getting quite boring... but it soon will inevitably change won't it?
He is sure, not only because of the Duke, but also because someone else has came to visit, someone that was supossed to be in hiding and yet... here they are
In the morning, at Sigmunds' speech, Cyran spotted them. How could he not? The perpetual cold of the air had changed slightly, and when his eyes met on the crowd, he knew then and there that the following days would be final
Merlin had come to Cedartown, disguised, yes, but their magical signature had always been unique, and for someone who has not only studied their cursed magic, but also had been victim to and has presented far more if it, in their youth than he would like... the court mage could call himself a bit of an expert in recognizing them by the light change in the air alone
That and "Princess Yolena" odd behavior once she had returned from her little adventures around town. Whoever that "new friends" where, now he is sure he knew exactly who, they would turn out to be, and see if they are onto him as well, and now at nightfall would be his chance
He had noticed their arrival first, the light warmth that started to overtake the cold air the tell tale sigh of Merlins' magic at work. The man wasn't able to spot his rivals' little troupe yet however, given they are just hamsters... talking child size ones, but Esperia has seen stranger things than these he will admit it
Only half an hour later is when Sigmund calls to his daughter, noticing her abstinence once more, ansiety eating the man alive by now even if he tries to brush it off as vigilance of nobility, and with that call, revealing to Cyran where the bane of his existence is as well
"Father!" The red haired girl called in alarm at being caught talking about her father behind his back
The Duke chuckles, all fondness for his daughter clear in a smile half hidden by his mustache " alright, are these the friends you mentioned?"
That was all the cues the court mage needed to approach the group. He arrived just in time to see Merlin bown, and for all the differences that their disguise took from their original form... their voice is something they have not changed
It had been twenty years since they last saw each other, and yet Merlins' bow. It is the same as he remembered being... forced, an attempt to be graceful stopped by their own discomfort of the song and dance of the nobility
Not that the actual royalty noticed, and as the princess proceeds to ask them for a dance, and as he expected the made refused, the same anoying humbling act had also not changed despite the years...
And after much pandering and begging and high praises that tested his own patience to keep on ears dropping on the scene, the pair finally danced. And Cyran caugh himself noticing, despite his frustration and bewilderment, that Merlin had not changed at all since their Lyceum years....
"You are supposed to spin in place, you know..." a young man sighs in frustration in the corners of the courtyard, far away and secluded enough that nobody would see the humiliation that is trying to teach Merlin anything that isn't magic... even if it would be amusing to see them fail in front of everybody at something for once "not go bumbling fours steps away from your partner"
"I am doing my best! It's not my fault that spinning three times makes me dizy"
"You have such a weak constitution. Honestly, how are you not bumping into every single wall is a miracle" Cyran says as he takes position one once more, one arms back, the other tucked foward
His rival... well, Merlin would call them more like friends than that, but Cyran would digress, takes to position again, mimicking the boys' movement as they had practiced many times by now. Facing one another, then right should with left shoulder, then switch, then the back arm comes to the side as they spin one another without touching once
"Very funny, and here I thought I was the master of jestting, clearly I pale in comparison with your expertise oh noble "teacher" "
"Remind me again. Who was it that tasked me to teach them the basic of dance?"
"Oh please, as if you wouldn't come smacking me to learn them for the ball anyways..."
"And why would I ever do that?" There was a genuine tone of curiosity in the boys' words, yet at the corner of his lips, he smirks
"Because you would look like a fool dancing with me when I had two left feet"
He snorts "Oh please I am capable enough to make only you look like a fool"
"But by expance of your so precious gracefulness" now they smile, eyes focusing on their friend at their banter
"It's called proper posture"
"Tomato tomato" at that Cyran rolls his eyes and spins
This time, they met as intended, hand in hand, while the other on in his chest his in their hip. Flawless "there, now you can just follow my lead like in waltz"
"You are enjoying this part way too much now"
"I have no idea of what you are talking about"
"When do I get to lead you?"
"When I die"
For a moment, his breath is caught. Of course, he had to remember the past now of all times...
In the present, Merlin dances with the princess, their spin a bit too far away to perfectly match the girls', but as perfect as ever the magister saves the scene by catching her hand and spinning her once more
Truly their luck this ball was among common citizens and not just nobility, such changes where permitted if made subtle enough. As pairs started to follow their lead, the small group made their way closer to the tree once again
But before parting ways to enjoy the festivities once more, Cyran caught the start of their talk when the dance had ended
"... so did you take lessons?!"
"Um... I... don't remember..."
Oh... of course... he almost forgot...
Merlin doesn't remember anything at all... just like his informants had said... for some reason, it makes his troath tighten... it was not out of the realm of possibility that Merlin had learned to dance with someone else through these last twenty years
But one thing he needed to check, perhaps... just perhaps, memory of the mind my be gone, but the memory of the body... it would of course determine how powerful Merlin is as well
Spells once learned are merely the production of the body working itself, amnesic or not... and maybe.... just maybe, he could spear a moment of two to make sure his rival, is still a true treat...
When the night deepens, and finally Cyran sees the opportunity, when they met as changed pairs, it's like two well oiled cogs of a clock, connecting and fitting one another as they had never left
Compared to the clumsy improvisations with the princess, Merlin dances with him as if they ahd done this many times before... has Cyran knows they have, he was there after all
This is all the proof he needed to know that the Magister Supreme would be, in fact, a torn on his side... again... for a inexplicable reason, it trilled him... he could best them that way anyways
I don't go here but I feel like "It's a metaphor. Don't force it to do the work of a fact." is a great statement about literature and fan-content in general.
"Get your head straight, you are alive, and you are on the floor… floor… no… that isn't right… you were no where near the ground last time you remember… you… you where on the skies of Altea…"
After a fight against the pilots of Voltron, you discover what the death-beast of the week does the hard way... by jumping right into it and being transported to another universe, where everything is similar but so incredibly different
A blinding flash of light burns his vision, on instinct alone his hands and feet guide his fighter-ship out of the center of battle, Sincline groans and barks your name through his teeth
"You miserable waste of space!" the enraged prince turns his head to the communications channel, a single red light shines above it, with an unnecessary brute force he dials the sequence of your ships' frequency perfectly, making the red light turn yellow "ANSWER ME DAMN IT!"
But before you could, a ding erupts on his left side, the sensors have caught sigh of movement, and indeed, all lions are on him now, lovely…
"Do you see now what you have done you imbecile! Get back up on the fight and support me immediately" He dodges millions of shots while angrily muttering to himself, why is it taking so long for you to answer?!
His fighter sews through the skies of Altea, far above and away from the chaos his main-ship waits his orders for an invasion, the strategy was simple, take down one of the lions by dividing them, and by this way Alteas' primary mains of defense are gone. Simple enough that it only be needed three components, him, you and the Beast-man, his main objective was taking down Falas' blue lion while you assisted him and the Beats made it's chaos, but as it seems the pilots have exchanged places, again, now he has to adapt, screw plan A, any lion will do, he will get her eventually too
There is only one small problem, where is his back up?! If you don't answer his call there won't be enough time to crowd control the lions and you both risk dying by the monster as well, the opportunity is now that they noticed he is no longer fooled by their tricks
But seconds turns into minutes and your fighter is no where to be found, you are supposed to be back up already from a shot like that, he knows your ship can take it, and he knows you can power through more pain than the short-circuit that tends to happen when the ships' carcass takes too much damage, so why aren't you back?
The red lions approaches him from his right, by mere centimeters Sincline is able to dodge the giant blade on it's mouth, he grunts, and glaces back at the transmitter, it's yellow light taunts him "What is taking so long, damn it"
With no other way the prince retreats away from the main battle, which the lions take as his departure and their focus shifts to the Death-beast now at the castles' doorway. Sincline takes this moment to breath, sweat runs down his helmet, his muscles are tense with anger, but as he looks back at the, still not connected, transmission… a shiver runs down his spine
Something is wrong…
Canceling the dial, he tries connecting with his main-ship, it works instantly
"Colonel Targar bring me status of my back ups' readings" he orders
"Yes, your Imperial Prince" now it better be a matter of seconds for him to have his answer, and it better be a good excuse to why you aren't showing up nor answering him or you will pay dearly once this battle is over
It took three laps around the battle ground for Targar to answer, he will slap him for it later, this is too long and the Beast-man is already down an arm of it's two pairs "Sire… we can't detect the humans' fighter-ship anywhere"
Now behind the castle the prince stops his patrol and hovers in place, his voice, for the first time in this battle, sounds confused "what?"
"We can't detect it's ship anywhere near us or the empire radius! It's like it vanished!"
"Vanished but that is-" the flash of light…their screams and sudden silence… this… this complicate things "Change of plans, retrieve the Death-beast and fall back!"
"But sir we are almost-"
Now his rage returns "DO I PAY YOU TO QUESTION MY ORDERS TARGAR?!"
"No sir, it will be done immediately sir!" he can almost see his colonels ears twitch down with the wine in his voice
With a tsk and a growl the prince of the Galra retreats, in his cameras he can see the black lion following his leave, that makes him smirk, deny it as she might, Fala is as infatuated with him as he is her, he is sure of it
"Oh don't you worry dear" he says to the image as he tries connecting with the black lions frequency, it works "I will be back for you"
But for now they must part ways, before she could answer he is out of rage already
Back at his main-ship Sincline jumps out of his fighter and already barks orders, his technician crew is already in motion at his ship the second he lands out of it "I want footage of the last hour of battle with the Pilots of Voltron, make sure it tracks the motions of my squire, immediately!"
The nearest soldier salutes and runs off to the lower workings of the hangar, as he leaves and Sincline all but strides forward to the commanders' center, Colonel Targar meets him half way there
"You better be making your way out there with the retrieve squadron or don't bother me at all" the idiot promptly shuts his mouth and with a nod hurries out of his way
It was surprisingly easy to retrieve the beast, when the five ships of the retrieve squadron had approached the pilots of Voltron, they retreated from the main battle and attacked the new treat, it bough time for the rest of the twenty units to approach the Beast-man and bind it back to it's coffin like ship, with the mere push of a button Sincline was able to send it back to wherever it came from
Leaving five sentinels on Altea as was standard protocol, the prince retreated with his main-ship and set course to planet Galra once more, now on the commanders' central he allows himself to sit and observe the battles' recording
There are countless possibilities to what may have happened to you, no-one of which are pleasant, the most obvious: Death, teleportation, time warps, shirking, and intangibility. The consequences of utilizing dark magic as a primary weapon fo war are again, showing
This was one of the reasons he wanted to conquer the Goering nebula by himself. His father is a great conqueror, but he is nothing without a good beast tamers, it makes him dependable on his witch and Sincline abhors the idea to bind himself to her in this codependency, his father is lucky that hag is his mother and loves him more than anything in this universe, a luxury his son does not have
With a sigh Sincline inclines on the commanders' throne, as he feared you disappeared right after the flash, the constant data that was being transmitted from your fighter all but vanished too, at least he knew what caused your disappearance, but now how to fix it…?
If it was a teleport, you would be back soon to him, he has no doubt, but if you actually perished… no, he had chosen you for a reason, you wouldn't die so easily, he refuses to believe it
Yes, call him sentimental, but you are his to keep, the first things he actually earned through work, your obedience, your fear, your respect, your loyalty… he worked too hard for it to be wasted on such a pathetic battle and such an inconvenience…
At times like this he could be back at his quarters, enjoying the ends of a battle with some wine, or better, blood, and a whore while you would be supervising on his instead, better yet, if it wasn't for this predicament he might even be enjoying Fala…
Oh princess Fala of the fallen kingdom of Altea, young, beautiful and feisty, just how he likes his woman, she would be the perfect addition to his harem, a testament to his conquering power, when he is done with her she would be nothing but a obedient husk of a girl…
But the Death-beats' ray was an unpredictable variable that would cost him this battle regardless, it was him or you, and for your sacrifice he does not blame such an obvious decision. You knew that there was only one correct outcome of that attack, and it was you taking it, given he wouldn't kill you for this leave, no, you are far too…
…
…Too useful, for him to kill now, but punishment would be in order, he would let you chose, by this point you would chose solitary, it is why he let it be a choice at all, for the day that he is actually mad you won't be choosing at all, although he does imagine you wouldn't mind his favorite method of punishment… much
You where trained since you have come to his care for this, be his shadow, his general, his extra pair of hands and eyes in battle… To be a fail safe to his security and to his blind spots, you are to balance him in his "impulsiveness" as Honerva had put it… not much different from her and Daibazaal, but Sincline saw it different
Unlike his father, he made his right hand himself, molded you to his needs and his vision of what a ruler needs, you are all skill and no magic, he can appoint a new priestess later into his rule after all, but a loyal soldier? No, he needed to stablish one as soon as he could… he doesn't want what he will make happen to his father to repeat to him now does he?
At the time he decided on this plan, you where… an impulsive decision, yes, but you payed off perfectly, a gladiator that looked so fragile but was deadly, a slave that was possibly so used to suffering a a bit of mercy would break your sense of person enough for him to make you dependent on him. You took to your training perfectly, sans language, the things he had to do for you to understand him at the time where humiliating… your answers where at least more ridiculous than his
He put too much effort into you, so you are not allowed to die, he won't let you
For the fourth year in a row now, it's time for Small Fandom Summer! Join me for Small Fandom Summer! It's real easy to play:
Make a fanwork for something that has fewer than 1000 English-language works on AO3
Post it to AO3
And then you've done it! You've made a thing and you've diversified the fandom ecosystem! You're basically a hero.
Q: The fandom I want to create for has more than 1000 English-language works on AO3, but the specific pairing I want to write for has fewer than that. Does that count?
A: Yes!
Q: What if it has more than 1000 English-language works on AO3, but, like, just barely?
A: Okay!
Q: What if it actually has a lot more than 1000 English-language works on AO3, but it still feels small?
A: Sure!
Q: What if I don't want to post it to AO3? What if I don't even have an AO3 account? Can I post it somewhere else?
A: Wherever!
Q: What if--
A: Just do a thing, friend. Make a thing. Share the thing. This is not meant to be restrictive; this is meant to be inspirational. Create the fanworks you want to see in the world. Make a stranger happy by appealing to their niche interests. Bring joy.
And if you want to give yourself some silly little Steam-like achievement badges to commemorate your accomplishments, well, you're in luck! I've made a bunch of them right here! You can grab the ones that apply to your work and paste them wherever you like and feel good about what you've done. Here's a few of my favorites:
So you see? This is meant to be silly and fun.
There's nowhere to sign up. There's nothing to commit to. There's zero pressure. You just do it if you do it, and don't if you don't. But if you do want to play (yay!), tag your stuff with #small fandom summer so we can all swoop in and appreciate everyone else's efforts.
Hey guys! We are already aware that the game has been uploaded to the Play Store without authorization.
Please do not download the game from there and avoid accessing the page. We are currently contacting Google to take the necessary legal measures and have it removed as soon as possible.
Thank you to everyone who came to warn us about it! We will do our best to resolve this situation as quickly as possible.
----
Pessoal! Já estamos cientes de que o jogo foi carregado de forma não autorizada na Play Store.
Por favor, não baixem o jogo por lá e evitem acessar a página. Já estamos entrando em contato com o Google para tomar as medidas legais necessárias e removê-lo o quanto antes.
Obrigado a todos que vieram nos avisar! Faremos o possível para resolver isso o mais rápido possível.
"What an odd thing it is... to envy one self after death. To wish to be himself"
The place was lit by with white light, clean and proper, no color to muddle and confuse a researcher, the whole laboratory was like this. It is standard to a renowed scientist to have, such as them
The body was laid bare on a metal table, no straps needed, for he is already dead, has been for about two hours, the wrinkled face now smothered into the familiar grumpy expression he was so found of bearing alive
Eight made sure of it
The child segment watched as the others worked, one who did not know them would call the scene uncanny, for how many could say they were studied by themselves? No-one that he knew
The blue hair now coated in grays laied untouched, soon it too would be choped and send to analysis by Thirty-five or twenty. The organs were being separated for Fourty, the eyes for Eighteen, the nails back to Thirty if his five years senior wouldn't notice first, and the bones would go to Fifthy... and nothing to him
For he was the youngest, and was only permitted to watch the procedure, perhaps, he thought, as a little ceremonial burrial for Zandik in itself. All of him is here after all, all the ages and the perspectives and the experiences, above, Prime, formerly Twenty-eight, watched in silence, an oddity Eight noted
But not unusual, he supposed, although he did felt... nothing, for the human man laying on the autopsy table in front of him. For he isn't him is he?
He is no human, no person, no boy, he was a segment of a boy who has died at the age of Eight-five, a boy... that never felt human anyways
So he doesn't cry, for he can not, nor does he grief, for he never did prior to being made. Eight stares and watches as slowly what remains of Zandik is carefuly catalogued, separated and sent away
But a curious part of him wonders, if he was Zandik, who he isn't, if he was once alive, for he wasn't, if he was the man that once was a boy. He could be able to answer a question he has heard children like him tend to have
What would he be like, when he grew up? The answer was The Doctor, yes, but more than that, for Zandik was never a simple child was he?
What was he like, his body, his mind, his existence, his bonds...
Now, that, the segment could work with, he wanted to know... if he grew up, the man on the table is who he would become. If he was human, his lungs would be black, Eighteen sneared when he had to discart it, one of his eyes would be failing him more than the other, as twenty had mused, his throath would be full of spores and his livers would be failing in about three more years if he had lived longer
Zandik... no, his designation is Eight, noted all of that, but something probed in his mind, something... strange, something he was instructed that wouldn't happen, after all he is forever an eight year old echo of a boy, he could never feel what he did not already knew
And Zandik, when he was trully Zandik once, does not remember feeling this... hollow...
It isn't for his death, not really, but more like, his end, he continued, as one with segments tends to do, but he also stopped... and that, brings in a question, one that no human can answer, but he... he could, for he is no human...
A question, that Eight remembers being his first
When the lab was lit in green, and tubes were being tested, and he woke thinking he was still a boy. Before he knew the truth, when he was needed to be a child, when someone so like him told him he would be working togheter for a while until the right time came
He remembers asking, in a night where he had failed yet again to see the mysterious mitical beings that are the Aranaras. He asked the older man, with red eyes and mesy hair, now more blue than teal, longer than they once where two years ago...
"Do you think someone misses me?"
His answer had been a tap on his notes, a hum, and a smile, small, cruel, and cold
"No" he had said, and Zandik noded, accepting the truth he already expected
That man, is now Prime, and Eight, as he looks up after the operation was finally finished, and notices the segment no longer there, wonders briefly if he is thinking the same thoughts as the youngest is too
Zandik is dead... would anyone miss him?
With no burrial and many Doctors to create an illusion if continuity, no-one trully should miss him
He was every where, in many places, knew plenty of difernet people and had diferrent experiences, The Doctor is alive... but Zandik...
The answer, Eight thought, would still be the same
......
It isn't
Two weeks
It took two weeks for him to be missed, and that was the closest thing little Eigh felt to a shortage
Seventy, the closest one in appearance they had for Zandik, had walked back to the closest lab in the borders of Snezhnaya with a stranger. Twenty was furious with him then, for this laboratory is a closet space, no-one but the segments knew of it, no-one but them should know
But Seventy... in a way the older in maturity but younger in production, had the presence of a man who is too tired to deal with teenage rebellion and just walked past his other as if he where a shadow
The stranger did the same, yet, Eight heard, as they passed him a sad chuckle from them. And it clicked in place when Fouty was interrupted in his cleaning
"You..." the segment looked the closet he coukd to surprise, given the black mask covering where his eyes are supposed to be "so you could not be fooled"
Seventy continued forward as the stranger stopped and turned to Fourty
"You did try it trice when looking like that" their voice was raspy, they where not an adult, not a child, not a teen "what made you think you could now?"
"And you seem to always forget that I am not him, I don't remember ever doing such sloopy job" Furty answered, mirth in his voice as if this where a game, as if you where amusing, as if you two, where close
On the background Twenty complained "Fine, be that way, compromise years of research because of that old mans' play thing! See if I care! You all will regret not listening to me!"
"And yet you remember me, don't you?" You answered like him, but patience danced in your tongue and yet it did not tamper your mischief, a knowing timber in your throat rang as you added "Boy"
Twenty had barked a laugh, and Fourty in such display of revulsion sneered "do not treat me like-"
Seventy called their name then, neutral, in a way only Zandik could, it silenced the lab, but not your humming. You, the child understood, had just teased Fourty
Eight, seeing an opportunity for something that he never once did see, leaped behind the pair once the stranger walked forward, quietly as he could
He does not know you, but Zandik... Zandik did, you are a stranger, a stranger that, if he where to grow, he would met, he would be teased by, he would know someone that could joke with him, someone, who was not of the same stature as him
A true stranger, that he would not have needed to know the name off... who could you be... to have earned Seventys' trust enough for him to bring you here?
The place the older segment had guided you to had been the old Zandiks' quarters, nothing of note, not even his clothes where there, now in use by others versions of himself that continue what he called legacy
Eight watched in the corners of the door, as you looked around the place, and Seventy stepped back, he let you to yourself, Instinctively, perhaps a by product of their manufactured minds, connected, the boy knew that the older man was as curious, if not fascinated, by you as he is
Both, the child understood, where looking at something they had... that the could have...
"You really did never sleep in a proper bed most of the time... bet your spine was busted"
"He had the starts of a bone spur when I last saw the exams"
"and you don't?" The stranger accused, a smile in their lips
"I have more important things to watch than my own medical exams. If anything, I can fix it, whether he could not"
"You are still dodging my questions, Zandik" they laughed then, weak and true "never changed no matter the age indeed... too prideful for anything"
That shut Seventy up quickly, an uncomfortable notion hit Eights' mind then. True, they did not helped Zandik when asked, they are not Zandik, they are better, they are eternal... but... if the same happened to them... would they help?
Would they change what their future looked like?
"And yet you still thought me a fool, didn't you?"
"... so you knew?"
"Of course I did, you hardly masked your own opinion, specially after ten shots"
"Perhaps he was humanly wrong in that notion then"
They snort "you are trying to run away from yourself again? Really now? After dissecting your own body?"
"I am not him"
"You were him once. This will never change..."
"My existence is already a divide"
"... and yet you still remember- There it is!" With a triumph the stranger picks something from the closet, a standard white coat
Nothing that Eight couldn't have picked off the labs himself
"..."
They search inside it and look close at the wrists
"This one, I'll burn it on my next trip"
Zandiks heart dropped, fire... it had many connecting memories to his segments of life. But fire... the act of burning something, he knows it is supposed to be important, it is special it is...
"Such sentimentality is uneeded"
A burrial
"And yet, I will do it anyway..." they mused, and Eight felt... he felt a pang in his core "thank you, for permitting me a last farewell"
"..." seventy is quiet for a moment, contemplating, but... his voice "ending this last connection will free me of needless pretending, you are doing me a favor"
He is... bitter... his heart... it hurts, something is wrong, what is wrong?
"...I see" the way you say words, you... this is like a goodbye, he is supposed to be good at those, why does this hurt
The steps get closer, and Eight jumps into the shadows before his feet fail him
The laboratory continues it's work, segments pretend to not see the stranger and their host as they make way back to the outside world. But Eight... the child sees... he notices, the older ones, the ones that know of you, they spare a glance, a nod, an acknowledgement, you where something to him, you are supposed to be something to him
And when you finally reached the elevator, Seventy froze in place whe the doors opened and you stepped inside, face taht once looked all of him now solely focused on the white coat
"Goodbye Doctor" you say, and it feels wrong for his name to not be the last thing they hear from you "For all that is worth, I will miss you"
Eights' beath stops, he understands now, you... you where theirs, you were his, and now you are gone, just like Zandik. The silence that follows you is a realization. The younger segments get irritated easily by it to the point they take charge for once, but Eight...
For a moment, brief as it is, the segment forgot who he was, and in that moment, like a ghost of a boy he wasn't supposed to be, he hoped... that one day, he would meet that same stranger again
That one day he would grow old, and meet a friend who would miss him
"Get your head straight, you are alive, and you are on the floor… floor… no… that isn't right… you were no where near the ground last time you remember… you… you where on the skies of Altea…"
After a fight against the pilots of Voltron, you discover what the death-beast of the week does the hard way... by jumping right into it and being transported to another universe, where everything is similar but so incredibly different
It was like looking into a mirror
Uncanny resemblance but the the skin, in a way this revelation was reinvigorating, trilling, finally a worthy discovery of their time, and yet… dimensional hooping wasn't jut real and possible, but out there, existed countless versions of him, with different names and pasts and powers and influence, and…
"…conqueror and regent of the great Goering Nebula, first of his flight class, right hand man and heir to Lord Daibazaal and, oh wow, 107 years old!" Erzo recited the list of accomplishments of his counterpart, plugged into a separated hardware was the black box the…
Well, he should call them soldier again shouldn't he? Yes, it was mere a courtesy, even if you are still listen as a ex-slave in you own database, that you had said it would be, inside they could extract far more than the expected, not only the usual backup information of running errors and failures able to detect the current problem with the fighter-ship, but your own personal stored information
And Erzo was treating it all as gossip, which given, is an entertaining way to bring levity to such a puzzling piece of information, for what are they mean to do with it now…?
"He looks older than Lotor tho?" Zetrid comments, in her datapad he can see the glimpses of the fighter-ship model on display, seems she has finally found a new pet project
"Maybe time passes different over there?"
"hm… maybe… or he is supper traumatized by war and that stuff, back then we didn't had a battalion of droids right?"
"nah, this Lotor-I mean, Sincline, looks too much like a daddy's boy to even get out on the field, just look at those clothes and title! "right hand man", fine silk for a fucking uniform! AND A SHINING HELMET!!! I say he can't last ten seconds in a match"
"I don't know about it, didn't you said the same for Lotor?"
"That is different, he had beaten armor on I should have noticed that, but the good hair genetic threw me off my game"
By his side another sheet lies open, yours, only one name, no surname given, a luxury not afforded to you he is sure, a human scavenged on planet Earth, not a colony nor a treat, merely the remains of a self-destructive civilization. For a moment the prince wonders if this dimensions' Earth is destroyed as well, and that's how the Paladins came into contact with Voltron, it is said that beast had the potential to level solar systems… nothing that was of his father ever came declawed that he is certain…
Ex-gladiator and champion for twenty years, now a fidelity bound servant of Prince Sincline, his general for about forty years now, right hand commander in the conquering of the great Goering Nebula and owner of this fighter-ship… honestly if Lotor wasn't seeking bursts of quintessence through the galaxy he would believe this is all too perfect to be true, but the readings don't lie, and Kova…
Well, Kova hasn't gotten out of your ship and that little rascal is as addicted to that stuff as his parents, if he likes a place too much, it was touched by the mystical forces of the universe, it is why he likes him so much too after all, he was alive only because of quintessence as well, if only he was Altean enough to wield it… enough of that, focus Lotor, the human general
By their little maniac episode he could understand two things, Sincline is definitively not someone he wants as his enemy, if his "loyal general" fears for their death that a "he" will impose on them regardless of where they are? Then he is a Buffon who deals with his allies as he deals with his enemies, with fear, much like his own father then, and that brings the second thing, this is enough reason for Lotor to despise this other version of himself
And where there is fear for a superior… there is a chance of mutiny, and… in a way, you are his general as well aren't you? If names could be changed through the universes, then why couldn't appearances drastically change too? Who is to say you aren't that dimensions' Acxa? Or Erzo? Or Narti? Or even Zetrid? He could keep you… hell he must, was there someone looking for you anyways?
Would Sincline come looking for you? Actually, better question, now that he had more information, besides how to replicate the jump you just did, he needed to know the circumstances that made you come here, by the sigh of your ship there was a battle, where you being pursued? By who? Where you a traitor? Did you fight Voltron? Was it Voltron, your Voltron, that brought you here? Could such an old mech do such a thing in this dimension as well?
So many questions, so many leads… after eons of searching, of dead ends… this… is this a sigh that things are finally going his way?
"Acxa"
"Yes sir?" she stops reading the in coming readings of the small ship docked in their hangar
"Bring me the human, there is no need of restrains, we don't want to frighten a potential ally now"
"is it wise to get them out so soon? For all we know this could be one of the witches tricks again" at her words a shiver ran down Lotors' spine, the Altean colony they had found… one of many illusions Haggar had created over the centuries, a very personal fuck you to him he is sure of it
"Indeed, but it could also be our best lead to our quintessence hunt, we must take risks to discover the extraordinary, and I have a good feeling about this… besides, it's not like Narti hasn't been practicing her… telepathy"
With a satisfied nod, Acxa walks out of the room, Zetrid takes her place with the readings, she isn't paying attention to them but the tough is appreciated regardless, Erzo continues to skip through the information datas they have, searching for key words and names. Daibazaal in particular caught every ones attention
"500 years… time definitively passes different, there is no way he looks that old but is younger than your dad Lotor" and it was uncanny indeed, Daibazaal… even if the name survived this dimension as the Galra origin planet, looked nothing like Zarkon, but he did look… more like him, the skin color for one, the similar vibrant purple, pointed ears, far more exaggerated than his, and definitively more than his own son, who has rounder ones even compared to Lotor
There were no records on any of his generals, either they didn't had similar names, as he suspected, or didn't existed, no Haggar, even even for the fun of it he searched Sendak, same result, by name they wouldn't find no one sadly, and by appearance it was still tricky, perhaps you would be able to help them in this as well
A message pops in his datapad, it was Acxa "They are sleeping"
…
Well…
He supposed dimensional jumping must be exhausting then "I'll prepare a room"
"PROJECT FRIEND: A psychological development study on friendship and it's impact in my development" or let's see what would happen if we met before (not at all accurate bc the circumstances are vastly different but who is going to stop him)
I tried to make an art for the ask but... I couldn't settle on a composition my apologies for the long wait. I also don't really watch a great variety of shows so I wasn't as confident in writting this
(Edit: alright I take back I know more variety shows than I thought I did)
Take two bc tumblr hates me let's go:
Roy
Wrestling. Simple, and especially perfomative, the ones with story lines connected with the characters the wrestlers are fighting as, shows like WWE and NJPW
Ludwig
I think he would enjoy MythBusters, given that is also one of Iggys favorites, but Ludwig is a tsundere about it, he is too much of a "royal colector of the fine arts that couldn't possibly enjoying anything that isn't high culturaly injected, the likes of opera and theater of old performaces"
(This is also a shout out to his Kooky Von koopa Era)
Morton
I can see Morton enjoying shows like Forged in Fire, shows about assembly skill and people competition about who can make the weapon of the day best, cook competitions are high contenders for his favorites too but they are in the same line of "skill like"
Iggy
His favorite tipes of TV shows are actualy Sci fi ones, like Star Treck and Star Wars, mostly bc of the Sci fi mumbo-jumbo that he will challenge himself of recreating as a fun pet project, but he also enjoys the drama of the small cast of characters that form a found family
Lemmy
He is more of a YouTube series kinda koopa, things made by amatures but with passion and very out there, but as for TV shows, he will get more invested when he catches those shows that break down magicians' tricks, like: Breaking the Magicians' code, or those weird races for money with wacky obstacles courses (maratona do faustão)
Wendy
Makeup competitions like American Influencer Award, she and Morton bond over those tipes of shows, fashion high ways obviously as well, and also those shows like Big Brother, and that one show where rich people get stranded on an island for survival, she finds it funny and lovessss the drama
Larry
Anything that is trending he will watch, game of thrones? Checked, Friends? Check, Dr. Who, Sherlock, Hannibal, Supernatural. He will flow with the trends and every now and then go for some niches but they all still are on a popular label attached like Gotham
Question! I saw your comic of baby lu and baby king boo and i have to sak, baby lu lives with e gadd? Or he cares for him? I mean, he need to have a responsable (ahem) adult around to avoid he to get hurt
tbh that art was made with intention of time travel shenanigans, and I think, despite everything, Boo only ever knows one old man that coudl theoreticaly help short this thing out AND take care of a human baby, so yeah, why wouldn't Egad get entangled in this you are right XD
