#voltron mermay

[loppadraws]

‪Merman Shiro cuddling his funny looking little human 🖤❤️‬

‪I don’t know if I can do any more for Mermay this year but I’m addicted to seeing the boys smile so I had to do at least this one!‬

[grim-marcher]

“Are these Allura’s babies?”

Before his eyes, there was the personification of his and Allura’s features: the red and the blue looked like the splitting of the pink in Allura’s scales, as Lance complexion was similar to the women’s one. The babies’ black fins and Keith’s hair, instead, were indeed a heredity from Shiro.

“And yours.”

Merman Shiro and his sons!

This is a collaboration between @fairyyuki and me. While I made the illustration for the mermay, she wrote a beautiful story on the piece!

Her story is in Italian, but you can read an abstract here!

[rookiek13]

“I’m not a mermaid” - Voltron Mermay

Humans never learned their lessons, Krolia thought. The man bobbed in the water, held up by a buoyant vest. One hand held a knife. The other clung to the netting wound around the whale. It was a stupidly dangerous place to be. Entangled and weakened though the whale was, it could still kill him very easily.

Undeterred – or perhaps unaware – he continued sawing at the net. It was slow going. His knife was tiny. Only as long as his fingers. Her knife would have been much better suited to the task, had she dared get close to them. She had no desire to become as entangled as the whale.

After twenty dobashes, he succeeded in freeing one of the captured pectoral fins. The whale, predictably, dove. Or tried to, at any rate. It was still hopelessly entangled, but it was able to submerge several feet.

Also predictably, it dragged the man with it. Krolia watched him flail. His vest was no match for several tons of whale. With a snort, she moved to end this farce.

She shot forward, darting with powerful strokes of her tail. Coming at them from above was her best bet. The net was still entangled around the whale enough she could clear it with room to spare, then dart in to free the man. She gripped her luxite blade tighter. This could easily go bad if she wasn't careful.

She dove. The man had collected his wits enough to try to free himself. But the very vest meant to keep him afloat was hindering him now. He couldn't reach the net around his ankle with it keeping his head and shoulders up. She ducked past him, seized the net directly below his heel, and cut. The tension released and he rocketed to the surface.

She followed. His ankle, the one that hadn't been ensnared, was still bruised from last time. And by Brodar, she was nothing if not vindictive. He jerked as her fingers curled around it. She seized a loop on the vest and heaved.

He cleared the surface by several feet, crashing with a grunt onto his tiny boat.

“What were you thinking?” She demanded.

The boat rocked as he struggled to orient himself. After a tick, he reappeared at the gunwale, eyes wide.

“Well?”

“You're real. I thought I was dreaming... when you... when I...” he sputtered.

“I would have hoped that you'd learned your lesson.”

“You're a mermaid.”

“I'm a Galra.” She stressed, “and you are an idiot.”

(Decades later, Krolia would tell her son how she met his father.)