Private canon divergent black paladin Shiro of dreamworks’ voltron. By Orion. 25+ they/them
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@skyguarded
Private canon divergent black paladin Shiro of dreamworks’ voltron. By Orion. 25+ they/them
doc. memes. headcanons. wishlist.
doggo got hospitalized again, hopefully discharged tomorrow so I can catch up on things this weekend
Dog n I both got sick at the same time hence the slowness
"Don't be a smartass, Shiro," Keith huffed. "You don't grip a knife the same way you'd grip a sword! They're very different!"
A brow raised and one hand flexed experimentally, clearly trying to find the difference. "Okay. They're still long sharp blades used for cutting and slashing. Your bayard, an alien magic tech weapon specifically tailored to you, forms a sword. So does your lion. And the only thing you brought to space was a knife."
ᝰ🚬 𝚉𝙰𝙲𝙷𝚁𝙿 .ᐟ RANDOM HIGH-STAKES, DISASTER-BASED ACTION PROMPTS CHANGE ANY PRONOUNS IF NECESSARY. SOME MATURE THEMES MAY BE PRESENT. SEND "REVERSE" TO SWITCH THE ROLES OF SENDER AND RECEIVER.
SENDER forces RECEIVER to keep moving despite exhaustion.
SENDER lifts RECEIVER over an obstacle they can't clear alone.
OUR MUSES get separated briefly and panic sets in.
OUR MUSES light a fire for warmth using scavenged materials.
OUR MUSES wade through floodwater, gripping each other for balance.
OUR MUSES emerge into daylight to see how much the world has changed.
SENDER blocks RECEIVER from seeing something horrifying.
OUR MUSES take turns standing watch through the night.
OUR MUSES navigate by landmarks that no longer exist.
SENDER covers RECEIVER'S mouth to keep them quiet.
SENDER confesses fear to RECEIVER in a rare quiet moment.
OUR MUSES shelter in a vehicle that may not hold.
SENDER gives up their share of medicine for RECEIVER.
SENDER promises RECEIVER they'll get through this together.
OUR MUSES climb to higher ground as water rises.
SENDER wakes RECEIVER just in time to avoid danger.
SENDER helps RECEIVER wash ash or grime from their face.
OUR MUSES mourn someone they couldn't save.
SENDER collapses and RECEIVER helps them back up.
OUR MUSES cling to each other as the ground shakes.
OUR MUSES listen to emergency broadcasts on a dying radio.
OUR MUSES sneak through an area crawling with danger.
OUR MUSES share the last dry blanket between them.
OUR MUSES shelter together as debris batters the structure around them.
OUR MUSES argue quietly over whether to leave shelter or stay.
SENDER gives RECEIVER the last flashlight battery.
SENDER shares a memory with RECEIVER to distract from fear.
SENDER gives RECEIVER their coat despite the cold.
OUR MUSES break into an abandoned building looking for supplies.
OUR MUSES follow a map they don't fully trust.
SENDER scouts ahead while RECEIVER waits, terrified and alone.
OUR MUSES hold onto each other in complete darkness.
OUR MUSES move through ruins that were once familiar.
OUR MUSES barricade a door as something pounds on the other side.
SENDER cleans blood from RECEIVER'S hands, steady and careful.
SENDER hands RECEIVER a weapon.
OUR MUSES share whispered plans over a flickering flashlight.
OUR MUSES hide in silence, listening for signs they've been found.
OUR MUSES ration food between them, unsure when help will come.
OUR MUSES wait out the storm in a cramped, unsafe space.
SENDER teaches RECEIVER how to start a fire without matches.
SENDER teaches RECEIVER how to use a weapon they've never used before.
SENDER drags RECEIVER out of a wrecked vehicle.
SENDER reassures RECEIVER during a panic attack.
SENDER carries RECEIVER when they can no longer walk.
OUR MUSES share a silent moment of relief after surviving something close.
OUR MUSES watch the skyline burn or collapse from a distance.
SENDER makes a hard call that puts them both at risk.
SENDER helps RECEIVER breathe through shock.
SENDER pulls glass from RECEIVER'S skin carefully.
SENDER pulls RECEIVER into cover just as something explodes nearby.
SENDER refuses to leave RECEIVER behind.
OUR MUSES wait for rescue that may never come.
SENDER struggles to pull RECEIVER back from a collapsing ledge.
OUR MUSES wait out danger inches apart, barely breathing.
SENDER tends to RECEIVER'S non-life-threatening wound.
❝He was a mess of scars like the sky was a mess of stars.❞
Hafsah Faizal, We Hunt the Flame
"I can’t believe you guys think I solve all my problems with a knife; sometimes I use a sword!"
"Swords are just big knives, this is not the win you think it is."
nah hang on actual new plotting call
The entire clone experiment needed Shiro alive. In order for any of them to be conscious in any capacity, let alone convincible, he still had to exist as a 'blueprint.' Haggar might have been able to duplicate his body (that's a whole other hc) but just trying to Frankenstein's monster them wouldn't have gotten her anywhere. There had to be existing memories and quintessence to transfer from or the clones would've been spotted lightyears away. Even the mutated robeasts came from something that already lived at one point.
The clones weren't perfect copies of a truly living person, in that they couldn't produce their own energy to function. A normal being naturally generates quintessence which can be replenished when used. Shiro was only really kept alive to be used as a human battery when the active infiltrating clone started to run out. Haggar's connection allowed her to siphon from him to Kuron, also facillitating the clone's limited bond to the black lion. Without Shiro's exact life force, Black never would have let in the copy nor would he have been able to fly her.
Shiro never actually knew about the project. He just figured getting randomly drained by the witch was a punishment for something or a way to ensure he couldn't contact the black lion.
Things I still want to write up: clones n quintessence, how shiro’s exposure to quintessence affects him especially regarding flying Black, lion autonomy and energy
smh legacy
It takes work but Adam manages to bite back the “ I want you. ”, his stupid ailing and maybe dying body wants to whine out. He never gets sick. Not once in his entire school career did he miss a single day of school, never took a long weekend to recoup from a trip, and the rare times he got motion sickness from a test it was over and out of his system within an hour. He got his yearly shots, wore a mask, and hand washed each time there was a chance at exposure.
But it had to be raising a teen that did him in.
And now he was out of work for 2 days leaving his students free to run rampant. Just thinking about it made Adam’s headache worse and he pressed his face against Shiro’s side groaning in pain. “ Just keep me distracted until I can take something. I know this is Keith’s fault, he never washes his hands enough. ”
Adam looked absolutely miserable and Shiro can sympathize. It'd been a while since he's gotten this kind of sick. Though it's not uncommon for astronauts to get ill after coming home, something about gravity and the closed environment impacting immunity, he'd voluntarily grounded himself. Temporarily, of course. Adding a whole new person to the dynamic would be an adjustment without one of them flying off. And he's not entirely sure leaving Keith and Adam alone together wouldn't end up returning to find the whole Garrison burnt down.
He holds back a snort at the remark, brushing a hand through sweaty dark hair. "Then why isn't he right beside you?" Teenagers he imagines, unlike toddlers, are somewhat immune to whatever goes around. Shiro suspects someone went out to town and brought something back. Free hand works into the tense muscles of Adam's neck. "Actually, I don't think you're the only teacher down. Sam wasn't in today either."
Adam looked absolutely miserable and Shiro can sympathize. It'd been a while since he's gotten this kind of sick. Though it's not uncommon for astronauts to get ill after coming home, something about gravity and the closed environment impacting immunity, he'd voluntarily grounded himself. Temporarily, of course. Adding a whole new person to the dynamic would be an adjustment without one of them flying off. And he's not entirely sure leaving Keith and Adam alone together wouldn't end up returning to find the whole Garrison burnt down.
He holds back a snort at the remark, brushing a hand through sweaty dark hair. "Then why isn't he right beside you?" Teenagers he imagines, unlike toddlers, are somewhat immune to whatever goes around. Shiro suspects someone went out to town and brought something back. Free hand works into the tense muscles of Adam's neck. "Actually, I don't think you're the only teacher down. Sam wasn't in today either."
The place was old and creaky and nothing like Adam envisioned when he thought of his dream home. The realtor had spun it to the point of nausea yet it was the place Adam found himself coming back to again and again. He could see past bending floorboards and a decades out of date paint jobs to…something. If he focused on it too long he could find the bent nails and eye watering restoration costs but with soft eyes he could pretend.
After locking the door, he could tell she thought it was a loss cause and her jump when he asked to see the lease sealed it. The same lease he put in front of his…
Boyfriend? Fiancé? It’s complicated?
The photos didn’t help his case. The flash highlighted every faulty line and decades of dust the place held. It was just Adam and Shiro had lived in each other’s heads long enough he had to trust— “ Do you see it ? ”
This wall could be knocked down for a new office. That room could host guests, big enough for all of Voltron and its paladins and whoever else wanted to tag along. A work out room, a study, whatever else they wanted. Room to grow and a project to sink their time into and fill the silent routine post War had gifted them. A chance to make something all their own.
Having “fuck you” money was new to him but the Garrison had paid out and was more than happy to send them on their way. There were angry people who would blow this wide open but Adam was tired of being that person. Tired of cameras and interviews and rumors and the remnants of a life ripped apart. He was tired of drowning and if the Garrison was going to hand him a floatie then he was going to take it. “ Sam can go public. All of Voltron can. But I want to make a safe place for them in the after like we always wanted. Maybe its the coward’s choice but Shiro— aren’t you tired ? ”
The place was a far cry from what Shiro had once thought their home would look like. It needed more than just a fresh coat of paint and redoing grout. He doubted some of it was even up to code or functioning. In a way though, it was fitting. God knows they were hardly in pristine shape themselves and humans are stubborn determined creatures who bonded over hard work. Maybe fixing this piece of shit would help bring them back together.
His head tilted, studying the images with the same intensity he used to look at flight plans. If they were going to inevitably have to rip so much of it up, customizing the replacements wouldn't be much more work. Open up the master bath, add a circulating hot tub, heated towel rack. They could have a real oven. Additions he was sure neither of them knew how to put in but they were friends with some of the smartest people in several solar systems. He could see Hunk jumping on the chance to renovate a kitchen.
There would be room on the surrounding land for at least two lion sized hangars. No light pollution so the night sky would be full of stars. Pidge could design them a state of the art security system. Something squeezed in his chest at the escalating thoughts of everything good about such a rundown house. A real place that would always be there - safe, secure, with the quiet clinking of Adam loading the dishwasher.
This wasn't running. This wasn't a calculated retreat. This was logical, a safe haven for the end of the day.
Shoulders slumped and his mouth opened to remind the man he still loved so much it hurt that he himself was part of Voltron. As if Adam didn't know. Shiro's eyes stung with a long overdue flood of emotion, like a feverish child getting upset because they felt awful. Hearing someone say it out loud...he was exhausted. Tired and raw to the core, feeling dangerously exposed everywhere outside Black (which he knew was all in his head, to be dealt with in therapy at a later date, people had better things to stare at than him like the influx of aliens.)
He was so tired, ever military stiff spine folding in such a way he checked he hadn't accidentally increased gravity again. How painfully tempting it was to fall into Adam, forehead to shoulder to use the other man as a crutch. He'd done that too often even before the war. Shiro dragged a hand over his face instead. "I'm tired. I'm tired of being tired and scared and wanting to go home but there is no home...or it doesn't feel like one." His voice strengthened minimally, teasing. "But babe, what the fuck do we know about renovating anything? You do remember I once managed to break a toaster, right?"
The place was a far cry from what Shiro had once thought their home would look like. It needed more than just a fresh coat of paint and redoing grout. He doubted some of it was even up to code or functioning. In a way though, it was fitting. God knows they were hardly in pristine shape themselves and humans are stubborn determined creatures who bonded over hard work. Maybe fixing this piece of shit would help bring them back together.
His head tilted, studying the images with the same intensity he used to look at flight plans. If they were going to inevitably have to rip so much of it up, customizing the replacements wouldn't be much more work. Open up the master bath, add a circulating hot tub, heated towel rack. They could have a real oven. Additions he was sure neither of them knew how to put in but they were friends with some of the smartest people in several solar systems. He could see Hunk jumping on the chance to renovate a kitchen.
There would be room on the surrounding land for at least two lion sized hangars. No light pollution so the night sky would be full of stars. Pidge could design them a state of the art security system. Something squeezed in his chest at the escalating thoughts of everything good about such a rundown house. A real place that would always be there - safe, secure, with the quiet clinking of Adam loading the dishwasher.
This wasn't running. This wasn't a calculated retreat. This was logical, a safe haven for the end of the day.
Shoulders slumped and his mouth opened to remind the man he still loved so much it hurt that he himself was part of Voltron. As if Adam didn't know. Shiro's eyes stung with a long overdue flood of emotion, like a feverish child getting upset because they felt awful. Hearing someone say it out loud...he was exhausted. Tired and raw to the core, feeling dangerously exposed everywhere outside Black (which he knew was all in his head, to be dealt with in therapy at a later date, people had better things to stare at than him like the influx of aliens.)
He was so tired, ever military stiff spine folding in such a way he checked he hadn't accidentally increased gravity again. How painfully tempting it was to fall into Adam, forehead to shoulder to use the other man as a crutch. He'd done that too often even before the war. Shiro dragged a hand over his face instead. "I'm tired. I'm tired of being tired and scared and wanting to go home but there is no home...or it doesn't feel like one." His voice strengthened minimally, teasing. "But babe, what the fuck do we know about renovating anything? You do remember I once managed to break a toaster, right?"
Orion killed again by Clarke more at 9
send me ‘🃏 !’ and i’ll write you a starter using a tarot card as the inspiration !
can either be pulled from a physical deck, or be randomised using a website. the reading of the card can be as literal or as interpretative as the mun chooses.
She'd been paying attention to the brief, she really had. But seeing that outfit she just had to see if it really was him, and when it wasn't, when it was a complete stranger.. Well that threw her for a complete loop.
But then he mentions her brother and her eyes go wide, understanding flashing across her features. If Keith trusts him, then I can too. That was her thinking at least. She sighs a sound out, kicking at the ground as she puffs her cheeks out.
It's only after he finishes speaking that she nods, taking a step back and lowering her head. "I see.. 'm sorry then, sir. And yeah, that'd be me, you know my brother..?"
Ariella risks taking another glance back up at him, wanting to study his face, see if she could read him in any capacity.
Shiro forces a smile and hopes it isn't obvious, trying to reassure her. He'd never had to be the one to tell anyone their family is dead. That task had been left to higher Garrison staff - or not done at all with the case of the Holts.
She's polite, he'll give her that. Innate curiosity wonders if she's been with the Blades the entire time. It would explain why they'd never met. He waves off her apology breezily. "Don't worry about it. Yeah, I've known Keith for...some years now."
Though if he'd ever been given her name, Shiro doesn't remember it. "We're both paladins of Voltron. You guys came a little early or I would be more recognizable." He's not sure which would be more embarrassing - showing up in civvies or late in armor. Not that it really matters, even with all her bulk Black can outfly any Blade ship. "I'm Shiro."
His eyes process faster than his brain, taking in the longer hair, the scar. Pidge had told him their family was alive but Shiro had yet to see the solid proof. He knew the fake had reunited with Matt and it stung a bit that even his closest friends hadn't seen past the facade.
"Hey." He breathed the word through the heavy exhale of finally putting a heavy load down. Shiro was staring, he knew it and couldn't care less. It didn't matter why he felt like shit, blurry memories and full body aches had become the norm years ago, Matt was alive and dangerously close to holding his hand. The left was restricted by an IV - that he immediately itched to pull out - and right fumbled reaching back. The wonky coordination of someone with a concussion.
Black pushed in the back of his awareness, filling in some of the gaps. Lions falling which explained why she was so faint. Sendak dead because Shiro had gone beyond injuries incompatible with life. Phantom stickiness of dried blood made him check under his nails. Clean. Clean clothes too so clearly he'd been out long enough for someone to wipe off sweat and grime.
"I think I can survive staying in bed a few days." God how long had it been since he'd gotten any decent normal sleep in an actual bed? This one felt much softer than a standard Garrison cot. "Are you okay? Is everyone else alright? Where have you been anyway? I'm so out of the loop these days. Look at you."
@maudlxne ; ;