Requests Are Closed!

"heaven resides in the arms of my noble and gracious special someone"

- said no-one! jesus(dianxia) I need a sprite anyway here's hualian <3

ps. should I do gojo x geto next? Yaoi is in my blood atp

I’m so excited to get started!!! Feel free to send me a trope and a fandom at the very least, characters and ships will also be accepted. This has the potential to be very very fun.

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Hello!!! I've noticed a few people following me on here! Please don't.  I'm not active on this blog, and if I am, it's usually a mistake. Please follow me on my sfw tumblr @fandomseverywhereassemble or on my new nsfw blog @fandomsfuckeverywhere .  (18+ only (obviously)).

Thank you for helping you see more of the content you probably want.

reblog and make a wish! this was removed from tumbrl due to “violating one or more of Tumblr’s Community Guidelines”, but since my wish came true the first time, I’m putting it back. :)

Heyyyy!!! I've got another Bad Things Happen for y'all. This one has a personal favorite ship of mine, Kidge (either platonic or romantic, depending on how you read it). There are warnings for blood, vomit, and implied character death.

Enjoy!

“Keith!”

His own name echoed in his head as he was brought out of his holding cell. For three days, he had had nothing but stale bread and coppery water given to him through a slot on the floor. Treated like an animal, this was the first time he had seen any sort of light since he had been captured.

They had been betrayed. Someone inside the Blades had sold them out; it was the only explanation. The base they had infiltrated was supposed to have been abandoned; no one should have been around for a hundred light years at least. Instead, on the other side of a sun undergoing massive solar flares, a Galra cruiser had been lying in wait.

Everyone else on his team had been killed in front of him. Their purple ichor splattered against his face and the floor, creating grisly designs. His head had been swung into the wall, causing his vision to spin and eyes to water.

Then he had been brought here as some kind of bargaining chip with the paladins of Voltron.

But that didn’t matter now.

What mattered was the petite figure hefting a glowing green bayard at the Galra soldier. Her unruly hair was mussed more than usual, the curls wrapping around the frames of her glasses. When he looked closer, her pupils were dilated to tiny pinpricks, and her teeth were bared. She looked downright feral, and Keith had never been so happy to see her.

“Get away from him!” She practically growled as her bayard was raised above her head in a challenge. Her feet were planted wide, and Keith had never seen her so angry in his life. Not even when he had accidentally tripped over the charger for her computer, unplugging it when she had been in the middle of a crucial download.

Then she had been angry.

Now… Now she was livid.

“Don’t.” He begged her. His throat was dry, and his lips were chapped, splitting and letting the blood run down down his chin. “Don’t make them angry.” He tried again, but his words trailed off into a barely audible whisper.

Her eyes narrowed, and she took a step forward. The green bayard was humming with energy. “How can you say that, Keith? Look at what they did to you!”

I can feel it. Keith thought. The ache in his head hadn’t disappeared since his beating three days ago, and some way or another, his ankle had been twisted. It was probably when he had been tossed in his cell, but there was no way for him to be sure.

“It’s what he deserves.” One of his captors sneered. “A half-blood like him? He’s less than Galra! He’s less-” He was suddenly cut off with a wet gurgle.

The front of Pidge’s weapon soared through the air and caught the man who had been speaking in the neck, the purple ichor spraying through the air. She yanked it back, and the ichor sizzled on the energy blade. The soldier lurched forward; his head tossed back so that the white of his spine was visible. More ichor sprayed from a severed artery, splashing Pidge in the purple substance.

She didn’t flinch.

No one else moved.

“I didn’t come here to negotiate.” She said, wiping the ichor from right above her eye, which only caused it to smear in a poor imitation of war paint. “You told me to come alone. I came alone. Now you’re going to release my friend and let us go on our way.”

“I don’t think I am.” The Galra who had pulled Keith from his cell said. He reached his hand down and gripped Keith by the jaw, pulling him to his feet. “It seems that I’m down a soldier, so maybe this half-breed should pay for the loss.” The soldier began to squeeze his fingers together, digging the dirty claws into his cheeks, and forcing Keith’s mouth open.

Keith’s eyes widened in considerably, his hands grappling with the Galra’s arm, trying to get the hand to release him. He ground his teeth together, feeling one in the back of his mouth crack, the white-hot pain shooting straight to the nerve, but he didn’t stop. Fresh blood was pouring from scratches in his cheeks where the soldier’s nails cut jagged lines in his skin. He pursed his lips shut so tightly that they split again.

Pidge was furious; she stepped forward, her bayard prepared to slice through this soldier’s neck as easily as it had done the last one.

“Careful.” He taunted. “If you kill me, my men will kill your friend and then you.” There was a slight strain in his voice from the effort he was putting into Keith’s jaw. “And if your friend,” he said, looking pointedly into Keith’s eyes, and squeezing his fingers together more tightly. “Doesn’t open his mouth, my men will kill you and then him.”

Violet eyes flitted to Pidge’s, just long enough to see her shake her head. There was real fear there. He glanced to the soldiers behind him who all held their weapons at the ready.

Keith reluctantly allowed his mouth to be forced the rest of the way open, knowing it was a mistake. Lightning fast, the Galra took a larger vial from his pocket, popped the lid, and poured a clear liquid into Keith’s mouth.

The first thought that popped into Keith’s head was relief that he was being given more water.

The second thought was that he had been very, very wrong.

The liquid was sour as it hit his tongue, so incredibly sour that he couldn’t help but try and spit it out. That was when a large, calloused hand was clapped over his mouth, forcing his lips shut.

Then it started to burn.

It started to burn its way through his tongue, the coppery taste of blood filling his mouth.

It was like his tongue was on fire. He could feel a cough forming itself in the back of his throat, causing his eyes to water as he just prayed that the hand would disappear, disappear and let him spit it out. Against his will, he felt some of it trickle its way down his throat, burning red hot all the way.

Then, the hand was gone, and he was being shoved to the ground, his knees buckling underneath him against his will. Instantly, the liquid was out of his mouth and on the ground, only now it was dark red against the floor. Desperately, he coughed, sending more droplets of red through the air.

Despite the fact that he was on the ground, his arm stretched out for balance; the room was spinning around him. Up was down, down was left, right was backward, and Pidge… Pidge was right in front of him.

Her bayard was right in front of his eyes, giving him something to focus on other than the burning hot in his mouth and his throat. That glowing green that blacked out the rest of his vision, but he knew that green. That green was safe.

Not for long though.

He felt his gut roil and desperately pushed her to the side to empty his stomach on the ground beside her.

It was tinged with blood.

Distantly, he felt her small familiar hands on his shoulders, and he heard her voice saying… something. He thought he heard his name in all the sounds, but he couldn’t be sure.

Not when he was shaking from just the effort of keeping himself up.

Not when he tried to breathe and almost couldn’t.

Not when the room was still spinning out of control, and he was there to watch it.

His stomach lurched again, clenching uncomfortably as he heaved and nothing but red spittle came out. Small hands gripped his shoulders, trying to keep him upright, but he couldn’t… couldn’t…

The world was going dark at the edges of his vision, but he was trying to keep his eyes on the green, that glowing green.

It was the last thing he saw.