#ific

[poisonedfortunecookie]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 镇魂 | Guardian - priest, 镇魂 | Guardian (TV 2018) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Chu Shuzhi & Shen Wei Characters: Chu Shuzhi, Shen Wei (Guardian), Implied Chu Shuzhi/Guo Changcheng - Character Additional Tags: Shen wei ships chuguo, Also implied Shen Wei/Zhao Yunlan but that's only in passing, and also is always going to be there by way of Shen Wei just existing, Chu shuzhi catches feelings Summary:

Worried about his ability to serve Hei Pao Shi due to a concerning development Chu Shuzhi goes to Shen Wei to discuss this issue, fully prepared to do what he must.

[poisonedfortunecookie]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 镇魂 | Guardian - priest, 镇魂 | Guardian (TV 2018) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Chu Shuzhi/Guo Changcheng Characters: Chu Shuzhi, Guo Changcheng, The main cast make a brief appearance at the start Additional Tags: Drunk Chu Shuzhi, Mostly Fluff, Vague handwavy set after the TV series ends but everyone lives somehow, Getting Together Summary:

The fight is over and they all finally have some time to relax and celebrate. Chu Shuzhi saves Changcheng from drinking a glass of Zhu Hong's snake wine by drinking it himself. A move that shouldn't cause an issue unless the wine also effects Dixingren. Changcheng has to deal with a drunk, and very clingy Chu Shuzhi.

So one of the new fandom holes I have fallen into is Guardian, particularly the pairing chuguo, I will die for them. They’ve given me the inspiration to write again, so here’s a quick little fic for my current otp. 

[poisonedfortunecookie]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Lance/Shiro (Voltron) Characters: Lance (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron) Additional Tags: shance, Drinking, silliness and fluff, Celebrity AU Summary:

One night Lance walks up to a stranger in a bar, a stranger that looks familiar. Lance is too drunk to notice that perhaps this stranger doesn't just pass a striking resemblance to someone he admires so much.

Happy shancemass @carriecmoney (sorry I can’t seem to tag you). I am your shance secret santa for @shancesecretsanta2018  I hope you enjoy this fic, and I hope your holiday, and new year is filled with sahnce and joy. 

[poisonedfortunecookie]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Lance/Shiro (Voltron) Characters: Lance (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron) Additional Tags: shance, very brief background heith, Modern AU, Ice Skating Date, Idiots in Love Summary:

Shiro and Lance enjoy a little winter ice skating date.

Happy Holidays @starboyshiro I am your @shancesupportsquad holiday exchange secret santa. I hope you enjoy this shancemas fic

[poisonedfortunecookie]

Surprise @kingsdoodles I was the anon who sent that ask a little while ago, and here, at last, is a little fic inspired by that luro bakery art. I’m sorry it took me a while to finally produce something after sending that ask. I hope you enjoy this! 

[Read on AO3]

One a day a stranger walks into the bakery that catches Lance's eyes. He's tall, dark, and handsome, everything Lance could desire. Shame he's shopping for treats for his 'girl.'

But perhaps this 'girl' won't ruin Lance's chances after all, in fact, she might just be the key to winning the stranger's heart.

[poisonedfortunecookie]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Keith's Father/Krolia (Voltron) Characters: Krolia (Voltron), Keith's Father (Voltron), Baby Keith - Character Additional Tags: Fluff, Christmas fic, Krolia is consfused about Earth holidays Summary:

When Krolia learns of the entity knows as Santa Claus she is immediately on guard. A man who spies on the human race and then breaks into their homes during the night hardly seems like a doer of good. Now that she has a family, a loving husband and sweet baby boy, it's up to her to protect them from this danger.

Happy Holidays everyone!! I hope you’re all having an enjoyable and peaceful holiday season. Here’s a quick little holiday fic I wanted to share. 

[poisonedfortunecookie]

shance fluff week - day 5 - cold

Here’s day 5 for @shancefluffweek, the prompt I went with for this one is cold. I hope you enjoy it. AO3

Lance doesn’t hold his right hand any more. It’s his prosthesis, the part of him that was stripped away by the Galra and turned into something whose sole purpose was to kill, destroy. It’s a part of him that doesn’t deserve to caress his lovers smooth, blemish-free skin, or hold him during their nights together, let alone touch his hand, so Shiro doesn’t fault Lance for his aversion to his hand, but still… It hurts. 

Back during those precious few minutes of his return to Earth, Lance was the first person who didn’t flinch at the sight of his arm. He was the first person who reached out and shook his offered hand and didn’t cower at the sight of him as the other prisoners, whom he’d spent the past year of his life with, had. They feared him because they knew what he was capable of, they’d witnessed his exploits in the ring as the ‘Champion’, so favoured by the Galra he was given the gift of an unbeatable weapon. Lance hadn’t known any of that then, so he shook Shiro’s hand without any hesitation, but then he was dragged back into space, pulling four innocent bystanders along with him, and Lance saw everything. He saw what the arm was capable of, what Shiro was capable of. And yet Lance loves him. At least he says he does, and he hasn’t left him yet even if he does refuse to touch his right hand, so really Shiro should count his blessings. Sure, when they first started dating Lance would always hold his hand, and didn’t seem to mind which hand he grabbed at first. But every time he held his prosthesis, Lance would shudder, and he would pull his hand away sooner than he would have had he been holding Shiro's left hand. Now, even if Shiro offers Lance his right hand, Lance will distract him, dance around and grab his left in a way that looks completely normal and unintentional. But Shiro knows. He looks at his black fingers melding into a silver palm. Apart from the unnatural colours, when it’s not activated and glowing purple, it looks pretty unremarkable. There’s no hint to what it can truly do, and it’s not as if it feels that different. The metal palm may be hard, but his fingers are soft and dexterous, and he’s always been careful to adjust his grip with his prosthesis, so he doesn't squeeze too hard (the hand has too much power. He doesn't think he's ever done something like accidentally hurt Lance. Has he?   Shiro wiggles his fingers, and from the corner of his eye, he sees Lance flop down on the sofa next to him. On his left. There’s enough room either side of him, but Lance, of course, chooses to sit on his left. “Penny for your thoughts?” Shiro doesn’t answer and just wiggles his fingers again. He shouldn’t let it get to him, he should be happy that Lance loves him despite the arm, even if he refuses to touch it, but- Lance’s reaches for his hand, his left, and he laces their fingers together drawing Shiro’s hand towards him. “Shiro, you can tell me.” Lance knows that’s something is wrong, and he’s worried. He cares. It shows in everything he says and does so how can Shiro possible complain about one little thing and risk making him feel bad? “It’s nothing.” Lance frowns. He isn’t buying it. “Shiro.” He tugs Shiro’s hand and leans closer to him Shiro tries to lean away. He almost wants to pull his hand free from Lance’s grip but he can’t. That would be too suspicious. “Babe.” Shiro feels trapped. There’s no escape. “Fine. Why won’t you hold my hand?” Lance blinks at him slowly. “But I am holding your hand.” “Not that hand, this hand,” Shiro brandishes his prosthesis towards Lance. Lance leans back a little, staring, his eyes wide. It takes him a moment to recover, and all he can do is focus on Shiro’s prosthetic hand, eyes wavering. “Shiro, why didn’t you tell me this was bothering you?” Lance looks pained, guilty, and it’s precisely the thing Shiro wanted to avoid. “I just...forget it, it’s stupid.” Shiro drops his hand back to his side, tucking the prosthesis against his thigh, away from Lance. “It’s not stupid.” Lance lets go of Shiro’s left hand and reaches across him, snatching Shiro’s right hand before he can properly tuck it away. He tries, but Lance can’t quite suppress the shudder that goes through him. “Do you think I’ve been avoiding touching your hand because it’s a prosthetic or something?” He asks gently, his fingers lacing with Shiro black digits, his palm pressing against the silver plate of Shiro’s. “I don’t know,” Shiro answers in a small voice. He can’t look at Lance because that is exactly what he’s been thinking, and he doesn’t want to admit it. Lance may act the fool, but he’s far more perceptive than people give him credit for. Too much so sometimes. “Shiro, it has nothing to do with that. It’s just your hand is really cold.” “Cold?” Shiro lifts his head. Of all the reasons he’d considered, that thought had never crossed his mind. “Yeah, and you know how much I hate the cold. As soon as the temperature drops even one degree I need to put like five more layers on. If I hold your right hand for too long, my fingers go numb.” It’s true. Shiro remembers the ice plant they visited and how Lance shivered even when the planet's inhabitants gave him two thick fur capes to wear. “I never noticed.” “Of course you didn’t. You’d be ok walking around in the snow in shorts and a t-shirt,” Lance rolls his eyes. “What about when we make love?” Lance flushes a bright scarlet and looks away. “Well, that’s different. Your cold hand against my hot skin feels really good then,” he squirms, and even though Shiro didn’t think it was possible, he goes even redder. Shiro lets out a breath in a huff of laughter. “I’m such an idiot. Sorry.” “Hey, why are you apologising?” “For thinking that you would avoid holding my hand because of what it is.” “Hey.” Lance squeezes his hand and leans forward, bumping his head against Shiro’s. “I’m the one who never said anything, and I never said anything because I didn’t want to spoil the surprise, but I didn’t notice it was bothering you, so I’m the one who needs to apologise.” “You don’t- wait what surprise?” Lance lets out a long sigh and groans, tilting his head back. “Well, I guess it’s almost ready, so I may as well show you now.” Lance jumps to his feet, and he’s still holding Shiro’s hand. His right. He smiles, tugs on Shiro's hand, and Shiro rises from the sofa to follow him. “You know, you can let go. If it’s too cold.” “Nope. Even if my hand freezes around yours and I end up holding your hand forever, I’m not letting go!” Shiro laughs, and Lance leads him through the winding hallways to their room. He doesn’t let go of Shiro’s hand once. “Ok, close your eyes.” Lance orders when they’re in the room and Shiro does as he’s told. He feels a brush of lips and hot breath against the back of his hand (his prosthesis is surprisingly sensitive, he can feel everything) before Lance lets go. He hears a shuffle of footsteps, then rummaging. It sounds like Lance is digging something out from under the bed. There’s a bump, a muttered curse, and Shiro dutifully keeps his eyes closed tight. “You can open them now.” Lance is holding a box, his gaze cast down to the side. He looks nervous and a little embarrassed. Shiro looks into the box and studies its contents. Gloves, several of them. Many are black, made of different materials, some wool, some thick heavy fabric, others thinner and more decorative. There are several with different patterns, one pair that looks purple, another in varying shades of grey, and various others. “I figured if you wore gloves, at least on your right hand, then I wouldn’t be able to feel the cold and I can hold either hand. I didn’t want to just give you one glove just in case you didn’t like it or something, and I didn’t want you to feel obligated to wear it, so I’ve been working on making a selection for you, so you can just not wear the ones you don’t like, or you can just not wear any of them at all I mean-” Lance is rambling, and he’ll go on for ages if Shiro doesn’t do something. He reaches into the box and pulls out a glove. It’s made of soft blue wool with the words ‘Lance’s No. 1 Fan’ woven in with a darker blue. “I like this one.” The box drops to the floor, along with Lance’s jaw. “You weren’t supposed to see that one!” He yelps and he tries to snatch the glove away, but Shiro holds it out of his reach. “Why not? Is there someone else who claims to be your number one fan? Because if there is I may have to have words.” “No, of course not. Please give it back.” Shiro puts the glove on his right hand instead. The words stretch over the back of his hand standing out proudly. Lance’s arms drop to his sides, and he huffs (pouts). “You’re embarrassing,” he grumbles. Shiro laughs and cups Lance’s cheek with his gloved hand. “So are you,” he grins before kissing Lance.

[poisonedfortunecookie]

shance fluff week - day 8 - free day

so i decided to do the free day for @shancefluffweek as well so I could write an epilogue for the fic I wrote for day 1 (Tumblr | AO3) since these boys deserve a happy ending. So here it is. Enjoy, and thank you everyone for making this fluff week so soft and sweet ;3; AO3

The fight was over, the battle won. Shiro stood in front of the red lion, his helmet tucked under one arm, the little blue forget me not held in his other hand. The delicate flower survived the battle, safely tucked in the corner of his console. It was an easy win, they hadn’t even needed to form Voltron, but it was one of the most exhilarating battles he’d fought so far. Everything he’d felt in the dream lingered with him with vivid clarity. He could still feel the ghost of Lance’s lips against his own, warm and soft, making him grin like a fool all through the battle. It gave him a feeling of invincibility, and he charged through the enemies quicker, sharper. And even without forming Voltron Shiro could feel Lance through their shared mental link, his presence there, mixed along with the others, but standing at the forefront of his mind after that dream. He could feel Lance’s nervousness and his excitement. He felt the rush of Lance’s heart, beating in time to his own, and heard the hitch in the other man’s breath every time he shouted an order. They were safely back in the castle now, the others sent off with a pat on the shoulder and words of praise, of a job well done. Lance remained in his lion. Shiro knew Lance wasn’t avoiding him, rather taking a few moments to gather his thoughts, but it had been long enough, and Lance was at risk of getting lost in them if he left him any longer. Shiro slipped his helmet back on and switched on the comms. “Lance? You going to join us?” 

Lance sucked in a breath, startled. Shiro could picture the way he would blink quickly, those pretty blue eyes wide as they darted from side to side before settling. He smiled fondly at the mental image. “Sorry, Shiro. Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute. Red just needed something.” Shiro can’t hear the Red lion, not like her pilot can, but he got a sense that Red huffed in indignation at that. “I know, sorry girl just play along. Please,” Lance whispered. Shiro pretended not to hear. A moment later the Red lion rested her chin on the ground, her jaw opening and Lance stepped out. “How’s it going, Shiro? Did you need something?” Lance asked with forced cheer and a false swagger to his step as he walked towards Shiro. He lifted his helmet off his head, and his hair stood up at the sides with a hint of static. Lance shook his head, which only made his hair messier. “I was wondering if we could have that talk now?” Lance stopped. “Oh. Right, of course. Talk.” He drummed his fingers against his helmet, eyes darting around like a trapped animal before they landed on the flower in Shiro’s hand, and froze. “You still have that?” “Yeah. It survived the battle pretty well even though Black got knocked around a bit.” Shiro heard a purr in the back of his mind, his lion proudly admitting she helped protect the flower. Shiro thanked her silently before turning his attention back to Lance. “I think I should give this back to you though. May I?” Lance, not understanding what Shiro was really asking, nodded dumbly and slowly lifted his hand to take the flower, but Shiro stepped forward his hand (with the flower) going to Lance's head. He smoothed down the short, flyaway hairs with the tips of his fingers, and then tucked the flower behind his ear again. “There. It really does look better with you.” For a moment, Lance forgot to breathe. “Can we go somewhere now, or would you rather get change first?” Shiro shuffled his feet, his grip on his helmet tightening, suddenly nervous. “Oh. No, we can go now.” Lance sucked in a breath and nodded his head. The flower bounced up and down over his ear. “Great, great. Good. Let’s go.” Shiro turned abruptly and marched off, leading the way. Behind him, he heard Lance’s shuffling footsteps follow him. - ----------- Shiro lead them to a small side room that few ever visit, so it guaranteed some level of privacy, as long as no one came looking for them. There was a large window that looked out into space, a plush yet small sofa and nothing much else. It was a room for relaxation. Shiro sat on the far corner of the sofa, and Lance took a seat on the opposite end, putting as much distance between him and Shiro as the small sofa would allow. Shiro didn’t take any offence to that, in fact, he was glad. If Lance had sat too close, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to get the words out. “There’s a field close to my Grandfather’s house that was always covered in blue forget-me-nots. I grew up there, playing in that field. It’s my favourite place on Earth.” “So that was your…” Lance turned to face him. His eyes seemed darker, deeper in the low light of the room. “I’ve always wanted to take the person I fell in love with there. It was special to me and seemed like the perfect place for a romantic confession or something. I was starting to think I’d never get the chance to do that.” Lance’s eyes widened as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. It took Shiro a moment to realise he’d pretty much confessed right then. This wasn’t how he ever planned to tell him. “I like you, a lot,” Shiro added quickly. It was too late now, so he had no choice but to say it, so there was no room for doubt before Lance can misunderstand or question what happened in the dream and what Shiro meant. “This wasn’t how I planned to tell you. I didn’t think I’d ever tell you. I thought you still like Allura, and I didn’t want to burden you with my feelings.” Shiro bowed his head, looking down at his hands clenched together on his lap. They were shaking. “Your feelings aren’t a burden.” Lance slid closer, the sofa dipping under his weight. “And I liked Allura, I still like Allura, but we’re friends. I know she’ll never see me as anything more and I accepted that ages ago.” From the corner of his eye, Shiro saw him lean forward, his hand raised as if about to reach out, but then he thought better of it and pulled back. “I’ve always admired you, you were my hero, so far out of my league, I never dreamed I’d even be in the same room as you let along fighting alongside you. But I’m just, a spare part, sometimes I think I shouldn’t even be here, I don’t deserve-” Shiro grabbed Lance’s hand. “Lance, you are so much more than that! If it weren’t for you, the Galra would have followed me to Earth and taken the Blue lion, and this war would be lost. She chose you, out of all of us, and you brought us here in one piece. You pick us up when we're down, you supported Keith when he was struggling to lead, and you’ve been amazing as my right hand. Lance, you are everything.” The force in Shiro’s words took his breath away, the conviction in them shook him. Shiro smiled and squeezed his hand. “I don’t expect you to answer now, or ever if you don’t want to. It that kiss was just a whim you went along with because you thought it was a dream I won’t be offended, but I want you to know I meant every moment, and everything I’ve said. I love you.” “I love you too.” The words were so soft, barely above a whisper that Shiro almost didn’t hear them, even Lance didn't seem to realise he’s spoken at first, but in the silence of the room they carry, loud and clear. Lance snapped out of his daze with a blink, and he squeezed Shiro’s hand in return. “I love you too!” He repeated, the words spoken with pride and confidence as if it was something he’d only now been able to admit, even to himself. Shiro laughed, a chuckle of relief that almost broke in a sob. “Can I kiss you?” Lance gave an enthusiastic nod in reply, so Shiro cupped his cheek (the flower still sat above his ear), and he pulled Lance in for a kiss that felt both like a dream, and more real than anything in his life up until then. ------- It isn’t until many years later, the war is over, and they’ve returned to Earth, that Shiro feels brave enough to ask Lance to marry him. Lance says yes. Forget-me-nots are a major theme of their wedding, the little blue flowers woven into every detail, and when they leave the wedding venue together, join by vows to love each other for the rest of their lives, they are showered with a rain of the delicate little blue petals thrown by their family and friends, and they face another beginning together surrounded by the flowers.