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theheartsmirror · 4 years

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𝒏𝒖𝒎𝒃. ▹ ❝𝑤𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑢𝑝❞

➝ 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 x 𝐰𝐨𝐜!𝐨𝐜/𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

➝ 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 4/?

→ 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲

→ 𝓅𝓁ℴ𝓉: ❛𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭❜

→ thank you to @crushingonmando for motivating me to write this. i decided to write it into this ongoing fic.

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐋𝐘 ⇠

It wasn’t the first time you heard him.

No, you’d heard it before, whether it be in a late night trip to empty your bladder or the typical insomnia that’d marred you since that night. But the first few times that it occurred, you brushed it off as your mind playing tricks on you, ghosts from a past that reeked of tortured screams and cries.

You didn’t believe it.

And then one night, you listened, really listened. And you looked. You were standing directly outside of his door. It was him.

Low, spaced, grumbled, and quiet mutters of protest, one word dominant on his tongue: no.

That was a word you’d omitted from your vocabulary. There was no need to keep it around.

No one ever listened, anyway.

Naturally, you moved toward the door, palm flattened against the metal, frown deepening as you pressed your ear against it. Mattress creaking informed you that he was twisting in the midst of his nightmare, or maybe it was a night terror, you’d also had your fair share of those.

Your first instinct was to unlock and enter, see about him, wake him and assure him that whatever it was could not escape the confines of his dreams, but then you realized something. His voice was clear, still deep, but unaided by the modulator.

He didn’t have his helmet on.

As though heat emanated through the metal, you backed away. Your desire to help him didn’t outweigh your respect for his religion. Besides, what would he do if you were to enter unannounced? A few weeks into your travels, and you’d quickly discovered that he was the type to shoot first and not even ask questions later.

Selfishly speaking, it was best for you to leave him alone, but morally speaking, it pained you.

It pained you because while it wasn’t a daily occurrence, it still transpired at least once a week, and as someone who’d been there, you felt for him.

You wanted to help him.

You just didn’t know how.

And so, you did the only thing you knew how to. You worked around it.

Full blown conversations weren’t his thing, that much was very obvious, but you still attempted to make conversation as best you could.

When he’d enter the common area, you’d momentarily pause while feeding the child, offering a friendly smile as you teasingly asked if he was feeling ‘warm’ or ‘cold.” When he’d return from a mission, you’d request an update. Sometimes, when he returned with a would that needed tending, you’d convince him to let you do it, the child watching curiously as you patched him up.

He’d thank you for your assistance but also wasted no time in disappearing into his are, and you allowed him that, his privacy. You’d garnered that he’d been on his own for some time, so having a child and a woman in his quarters for a majority of the day required constant adjustment.

So, you accommodated as best you could, well, you tried.

So when you finally got the Child to go down for his nap and entered the cockpit, inquiring about where your next stop would be, and he informed you, “Lah’mu,” your eyes widened.

“Really?” You stood behind him, hands moving to brace the back of his seat. He barely looked at you over his shoulder with a curt nod.

“Yes.”

Hand over your mouth, the idea hit you harder than when you realized that the Child did in fact have a limit with how much his little body could consume.

Mando cleared his throat. “Is that a problem?”

Halfway listening, you lifted your brows. “Hmm.”

He sighed. He was already irritated, maybe not with you, but it didn’t necessarily matter. “Why are you looking like that?”

“Like what?” You shrugged and tugged on your bottom lip, thankful when loud cooing provided you with an excuse. “I should go check on him.” Without waiting for a reply, you dashed out of the cockpit.

The next few hours felt like an eternity, especially since you were budding with excitement for the manifestation of your plan, something that probably irked Mando as he planned to go out and seek employment.

Deciding that it was best to wait to tell him, you spent the evening as you typically did, entertaining the Child, resting, cleaning, and other activities that helped to eat up time.

When he returned, after getting cleaned up, you practically tackled him, arms reaching the Child toward him.

“I need you to watch him.”

He stared at you, head tilting down toward the happy baby. “What?”

“I need to go out.” Gently pushing him toward your partner’s chest, you watched him carefully allow the green creature with elongated ears to crawl up his armor, attempting to sit on his shoulders.

“Excuse me?” He turned, angling his body towards you as you pulled your cloak around your body, pulling your hair out and allowing it to flow down your back, over the material. “Go where?”

You paused and offered a small smile. “Out to the bazaar. I need some things.”

He paused. “I’m coming with you.”

You straightened and shook your head. “No. You should rest. I’ll be—”

He stepped toward you. “I’m coming.”

Turning away, you had to decide if it was worth arguing with him. His presence wouldn’t exactly ruin your plan, but it would unintentionally recruit him onto your trail, and you didn’t like that. You liked the element of surprise, even if such a thing wasn’t possible when dealing with a Mandalorian.

“Fine.”

It was a fruitless argument, that much was obvious. Your only option was to concede.

Twenty minutes later, the three of you walked through the market, the Child waddling between yourself and Mando who stayed behind the both of you, observing.

A chuckle escaped your mouth at how easily the crowds parted at your presence, Mando’s presence. No one wanted to find themselves on the opposite side of the battlefield with the galaxy’s fiercest warrior. As someone who’d been abused, humiliated, degraded, and violated, being in a position where others made themselves scarce, the thought of causing you any harm because of your company, it gave you a sense of peace you couldn’t even recall being able to feel at any point in your life since—

“Blue milk?” Out the corner of your eye, you practically saw the scrunched brows and deep scowl. “That’s what you needed?”

Handing over the required credits to the worker, you waited for her to disappear into the back as she gathered the milk and other items you’d requested.

“Yes.”

Tiny, green hands reached toward a rocky display that would collapse with even the slightest touch, causing you to patter over to the baby, lifting and pulling him against your chest as you snuggled him close.

You giggled, but your smile dimmed when you caught two sets of alien eyes on you, and you just knew what they were thinking. Seconds later, you retreated back to a time where your objections mattered not because you were considered chattle. You had no say in the matter.

Frozen with quiet fear, a warmth behind you and a gloved hand placed on the small of your back reminded you that the past was just that, the past.

That wasn’t your life anymore.

This was.

Turning toward him, you looked up and saw that his sights were set on the two men whose frantic footsteps informed you that they’d clearly understood the message. Just Mando’s presence, domineering as it could be, frightened off anyone who held ill-intentions.

You were grateful.

“You’re supposed to be watching him.”

“He was fine.”

“We have different definitions of fine,” you teased and returned to the counter to retrieve the bag as Mando escorted you out the busy marketplace and into the safety of the Razor Crest.

As the bounty hunter catered to some mechanical work needed before you all moved on to the next planet, you worked, wrecking your memory for the appropriate steps, searching for information you hadn’t needed since a young girl.

It took you longer than you’d had liked, but the end result earned a smile. The Child especially enjoyed your creation, gobbling down more than his little stomach should probably allow before you could start his nighttime routine, something that took longer than usual.

Something that helped to lull the active baby into sleep was singing, lullabies sung to you by your mother as a young girl, songs that were in your native tongue.

The little one in your lap could be mischievous and tug on your sympathy strings when he really wanted something, but at night, not even two minutes into your hymns, he was at your mercy and typically sleep in under three minutes.

“Haruun Kal.” You sat up in your seat, careful not to disturb the baby, looking over your shoulder. He leaned back against the wall behind you, arms crossed over his chest. “That’s where you’re from.”

Head tilted, you slowly nodded. “Yes. How—”

“I recognize the language. I was taught some as a child.”

“So you retained very little,” you surmised.

He chuckled. “I got what I needed.”

“Hmm.” You stood, carefully holding the Child in your arms, glancing down to ensure that he was still sleep as you moved toward the Mandalorian. “You know...there are things that we just, we can’t discuss, and not always because we don’t want to, but because we don’t know how. We’ve spent so long pushing it back, suppressing the memories, that—that we forget the past always finds a way back to us.”

He remained quiet, and you swallowed, pushing back your own fear. “When I was a little girl, and I’d get sick, my mother would make blue milk pancakes even though she hated them. Even the smell would make her nauseous, but she still did it anyway. For me, and something as simple as pancakes could make me forget, even if for a little bit, what I was upset about.”

Lips pressed together, your current task was to keep the tears at bay. This was for him, not you.

“As an adult, it sounds silly. Food doesn’t make it go away, but it can help.” A beat. “So can listening.” The baby moved around, a sign that you needed to get him in his bed before he awoke again. “Anyway, I left your plate in the cockpit, and, well, I’ll be up tonight in case...” Words seemed unnecessary at that point, so you gave him one last smile and walked past.

You were almost through doorway when you heard it.

“Thank you, Aayla....”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x oc #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian oneshot #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x woc!oc #mandalorian x black!oc #mandalorian x black!reader #star wars

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severussnapedamagedlove · 5 years

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The Nature of a Black

Christmas Break – First Year

“Aha! Youngest Quidditch player in a century. A seeker, too!” Sirius beamed as him and his godson marched through the door of his family home, Grimmauld Place. It’d been a lonely school term with Harry gone. Sirius was only amused with Remus for so long before even those antics became predictable. He wished for his godson.

Harry had been with Sirius and Remus since his parents’ deaths, ten years before. They’d been betrayed by their childhood friend, Peter, who was lost that very night with James and Lily. It made Sirius especially protective of the young boy he raised as his own, never trusting more than a handful with his wellbeing, Remus being an obvious exception.

Now, Harry attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as his parents and Sirius attended in their younger days. He glowed with pride at the memory of his own childhood within the castle walls.

“Your dad would be so proud,” Sirius said softly, lost in the memory of James as he stared down at his face.

They shared the same wicked smile, always a taste for mischief, in a way that was exactly in his father’s nature. Dark hair, unkempt in a way that chose comfort over style, even his walk was that of James Potter.

“Do you think so?” The young man looked up with a curious look. “I figured he’d wish me to be a Keeper.”

Sirius snorted. “What would make you go think something as preposterous as that?”

“Well, um, I mean.”

The boy struggled over his words. It wasn’t often that his godson struggled to talk to Sirius about anything, much less Quidditch. He practically grew up on a broom!

“Out with it, son. What is it you’re thinking?”

Sirius touched Harry’s robes. They were ruffled from a long train ride home, no doubt shoved up against the glass from all the boys in the car. The innocence of the first year, the fun, was all too dear to the man who grew forlorn as the days marched on without his two best friends, James and Lily, to witness their son turn into a remarkable young man.

He didn’t dwell on that now. Harry was home. That was more important than anything.

“All the Keepers are so cool,” Harry admitted. “They save the games, get the girls. Being a Keeper is so much cooler.”

Sirius scoffed. “As if a Keeper has ever been cooler than a Seeker. Harry, my boy, I’ve never met a Keeper that wasn’t a complete git. That’s who isn’t tough enough to be a Chaser, or smart enough to be a Beater, or fast enough to be a Seeker. No, those gits take hits to their heads!”

He was going to have to write the school and complain about that conduct. A Keeper more popular than a Seeker? Who in their right minds thought that up?

Harry eyed Sirius closely before relenting. He moved his trunk up the staircase, letting it thunk against every single step on the way up in a way that Kreacher was sure to bellyache about the rest of the night.

That was when he noticed something amiss.

He leaned over the railing. “Where is Remus and that friend of yours? They did make it off the platform, didn’t they?”

Harry shot him a wry look. “Distracted by a street performer. They’re out on the corner. Doubt either will look away for another ten minutes.”

Sirius smiled. His godson continued to amaze him with a sensible humor that always raised him from his lonely depths. It was more than good to have him home.

“I’ll go fetch them before the wolf starts to encourage Remus to run off to the circus.”

Sure enough, just as Harry said, Remus stood near a young boy with a worn-down trunk on the corner where a young girl with flowing locks danced, a boa wrapped around her midsection. The green snake hissed as an underlying bass as the woman sang.

Her pale eyes ignited with interest as Sirius stepped closer, giving him a careful look with a side smile.

He touched his friend’s shoulder. “Moony?”

Remus stared as the woman’s body began to gyrate the hundreds of silver sequins all over her. It elicited an excited exclamation from the young man at Remus’ side.

“Bloody hell,” the boy murmured.

“Alright, alright, you two. Let’s go before you spend your entire vault on this woman’s eccentricities which, frankly, I could do better,” Sirius said, collecting both by the arm and tugging them away.

“Oh come on!” The young man groaned.

Remus was more quietly bothered. He walked along but turned his head more than once to watch the dancer summon others to be beckoned into her siren cast of weaker men. Sirius was disappointed in his friend. A lifetime of knowing the dangers of enticement left little impact when a girl as pretty as her danced. He was surprised the bleeding heart didn’t invite her inside to live forever, free of charge.

That was the kind of man his best friend was. A darker man than when they were children, but gentle as ever.

Grimmauld Place welcomed the three with a burst of warmth, thanks to all the warming charms Kreacher placed. The ancient house was drafty. Bits of snow found their way in through window sills and the attic during the winter months, the House Elf worked tirelessly to retain the integrity of the ancient House of Black.

When he’d been tasked with the job of caregiver for his godson after the death of three personal friends, Sirius could have cared less whether the place burned down or rotted. Time ate away at the sentiment as he saw more and more of a dark-haired boy bouncing down the hallways rather than a heavily cloaked man with a permanent scowl on his face. The home was Harry’s. A childhood locked within the walls, same as Sirius, but in a much more pleasant light. Kreacher still cursed the scuffs down the hallway from his first trunk, something he insisted on carrying himself.

Harry and his friend came down a time later, unpacked and ready for food. The other boy’s stomach grumbled loudly.

“Sirius, this is my friend Ron.”

His bright red hair glowed under candlelight. It was apparent which family he hailed from. No other in England bared that hue so brilliantly.

“Welcome, Ron. So glad you could join us.”

Ron offered up a weak smile. “It was either this or Hogwarts. And, I was afraid that’d mean more school work.”

Sirius laughed, slapping the boy on the shoulder happily. “There is always room at our table for another survivor of Hogwarts homework and the blasted library. How I hated that place.”

Both the boys groaned in agreement. Their sounds the very same that Sirius and James made to the Potters when they asked how it was the first time. Some things never changed with time.

“I see you already know the place,” Sirius stated.

Kreacher rang for supper. The four slowly made their way to the back where the kitchens and table was, fit for fifteen people once the elite of the magical community, now just a simple broken family of those who barely survived the first war. Sirius kept Harry sheltered from the life that once was his, a dark mark on his conscious.

The Dark Lord was gone, vanquished thanks to Lily’s sacrifice. There was no need to add to the weight of the boy’s suffering, the boy’s sacrifice even if it was for the world. Lily and James meant more to everyone than that. They were beloved family. A part that Harry completed for them, for them all.

For now, Harry remained ignorant of the fact that he’d faced the worst wizard of all time and lived to see the next day. The only one.

Harry and Ron rushed to their set places, eyes wide with hunger as puddings and pies and roasts littered the table.

“Our other friend drags us there all the time,” Harry explained as he loaded up a roll with butter. “She practically lives there. You should see the books she reads.”

“For fun!” Ron added, clearly disturbed by the fact.

“Yeah, for fun. She reads all about Hogwarts and magic.” Pumpkin juice was poured into Harry’s goblet. He then offered some to his guest. “I’ve never heard of most of the things she knows.”

Ron munched happily on a slice of steaming mince pie. He looked thrilled to have so much food, a fact that he took full advantage of. The porcelain of his plate was barely seen under his mountain of food.

Sirius was happy to see the boys so content. He noticed his friend even perk up at their great enthusiasm. So close to a full moon left Remus in a depressing mood, worse when Harry was around.

Grief was his struggle, more so than Sirius’. Remus suffered James and Lily’s loss every month when he shed his werewolf form into human and gained his memory once more.

“She knows a bunch for a Muggle,” Ron commented offhand.

The comment caught Sirius’ notice. “Muggle? At Hogwarts?”

“Ron meant Muggleborn. Hermione has Muggle parents,” Harry said. “But she’s really smart. She beats everyone in class. Answers every question before a Professor can even ask.”

“A gifted friend to have,” Remus piped in.

A night with Remus Lupin’s input was a good one. Sirius was glad for a blessed Christmas; already given all the happiness he could have.

“She’s alright,” Ron grumbled. “Bit of a Know-It-All.”

Harry shrugged. “I like her. She thinks of things we don’t, and it’s important to be friends with people like that, isn’t it, Sirius?”

A bloom opened up in Sirius Black’s heart to see a child so confident and well mannered. Although it didn’t seem like it, Harry did listen as Sirius rattled on about things, he’d wished he’d known as a young wizard. It took many hard lessons to understand just what the way was to be a better man.

“That’s correct.”

Ron scrunched his nose. “Why’s that? Don’t pixies of a feather flock together? It’s hard to be friends with someone not like us.”

“Harry? Can you tell him why we need variety?”

Sirius raised his wine goblet to his lips. The bitter red tasted sweeter as his son glowed with pride as he educated his friend on what he’d been taught.

“Because otherwise we are too narrow to experience. If I had only been raised in magical England, I wouldn’t know pizza or cars or movies. And all those things are awesome. We need friends different than us so we can be better people, understand things, have more fun.”

The night was the first in a long while that Grimmauld Place was spent in great cheer, lit up well into the night as the boys told of their first year and all the fun they’d had. Ron spoke of his siblings – there were many – in a of relief that he didn’t have to share his holiday with them. Apparently, he had a nasty set of older brother twins that always hid Ron’s Christmas presents in the garden beneath their mother’s beloved vegetables.

It took ages for either boy to start to appear worn down. He was nodding off in his chair when their scrambling feet echoed up the staircase like a herd of cattle.

“Merlin, they go on,” Sirius mumbled as he stood up from his crouched position. His knee popped below him. “Ah, just like that. I’m reminded of how much time has stood against me these years.”

Remus stared into the crackling fire, motionless, lost within thought.

Sirius observed the distance in his friend’s eyes. All too well, he knew the hurt there. Harry was Sirius’ Godsend, but he was Remus’ cursed reminder. They were all that remained of their childhood friends, so few left of the original Order of the Phoenix, a part of themselves never made whole. They were forced to carry on in a world that enabled their friends to be forced into hiding and eventually hunted down and murdered whilst witches and wizards turned a blind eye to the horrid acts the Dark Lord did.

Darkness. It was a cloud over their minds. It never left. A world descended into accepted chaos for the sake of a cause so bitter and impure.

His friends were brave to the very end. Harry’s parents faced down the greatest evil the world ever knew without doubt it was the right thing to do. That trait carried over into their son who grew more stubborn and decided as the days burned on. He was a force to be reckoned with.

A reckoning, Remus and Sirius, hoped would never come.

Come check the rest of the story out by clicking the link, The Nature of a Black.

Follow and review would be AWESOME

#fanfiction #fantasy #Harry Potter #Hermione Granger #HP #friendship #hermione x draco #dramione #Ron Weasley #Gryffindor #hogwarts #sirius #remus x sirius #Sirius Black #the Mauraders #padfoot #moody

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yanagichiri-blog · 6 years

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STUDY : TAKUMI . tagged by the lovely @shouyoku which is really convenient because I’d actually already stolen this meme and had already filled out 80% of it ayyy Thanks~ <3

— BASICS.

▸ IS YOUR MUSE TALL / SHORT / AVERAGE ? I have him down as 5′ 8″/173 cm, but he has no official height. He’s pretty much average height for a Japanese Hoshidan male, and he’s actually still growing. pic of me not paying attention to any other FEF muse’s headcanon heights because we’re all over the place tbh

▸ ARE THEY OKAY WITH THEIR HEIGHT ? Not at all. He wants to be taller. Ryoma’s taller, his dad was reportedly taller, and it gets under his skin how pretty much every Nohrian male he encounters, and some of the females, is taller than him. Call him short and perish.

▸ WHAT’S THEIR HAIR LIKE ? Fine, but there’s a lot of it. Ashen brown is how I tend to describe the color. The many strands make it relatively thick, but he has arguably the silkiest hair in his related family. Lbr if you compare the four sibs, Takumi’s the only one who looks like he could get his hair to cooperate with him. The cut is layered, mostly at the top, which is what creates the “fuzzball” at the base of his ponytail. He wears it up most of the time in order to keep it out of the way, and to prevent his very noticeable nervous habit of pulling it over his shoulder and stroking it. When undone, it falls to his mid thighs. On occasion, he’ll wear it in a very large bun. Don’t expect to see it down unless he’s about to sleep.

▸ DO THEY SPEND A LOT OF TIME ON THEIR HAIR / GROOMING ? Yes. Especially now that he’s on his own in terms of maintenance, he’ll spend quite a long time making sure his coiffure is perfect (or at least presentable) before going out, and he brushes it for a long while every evening (a task he can perform while reading). That being said, his hair has gotten messed up more times than he can count thanks to training, fighting, and other activities, so he’s no beauty queen.

▸ DOES YOUR MUSE CARE ABOUT THEIR APPEARANCE / WHAT OTHERS THINK ? Yes. A lot. He’s not nearly as conscious of what’s fashionable or trendy as some other people he knows, but he has a general image he’d like to maintain. He won’t over groom though. This is to ensure he comes off as more “natural” and because he believes fussing over appearance too much isn’t what a man should be doing. There’s lots of his features he’d change in an instant, all because he wants to be seen as mature, strong, and worthy of respect more than anything.

— PREFERENCES.

▸ INDOORS OR OUTDOORS ? outdoors. ▸ RAIN OR SUNSHINE ? sunshine. ▸ FOREST OR BEACH ? forest. ▸ PRECIOUS METALS OR GEMS ? precious metals. ▸ FLOWERS OR PERFUMES ? flowers. ▸ PERSONALITY OR APPEARANCE ? personality. ▸ BEING ALONE OR BEING IN A CROWD ? being alone. ▸ ORDER OR ANARCHY ? order. ▸ PAINFUL TRUTHS OR WHITE LIES ? painful truths. ▸ SCIENCE OR MAGIC ? science. ▸ PEACE OR CONFLICT ? peace. ▸ NIGHT OR DAY ? day. ▸ DUSK OR DAWN ? dawn. ▸ WARMTH OR COLD ? warmth. ▸ MANY ACQUAINTANCES OR A FEW CLOSE FRIENDS ? few close friends. ▸ READING OR PLAYING A GAME ? reading, unless it’s shogi

— QUESTIONNAIRE.

▸ WHAT ARE SOME OF YOUR MUSE’S BAD HABITS ? He takes things to heart very quickly and is overall an incredibly sensitive person. This results in rapid mood swings, especially a short temper. He also stresses himself a lot, both mentally and physically. Takumi possesses rock bottom self esteem, which tends to make him a pessimist among other poisons to his mentality. He’s overall anxious and overthinks almost everything, too. I suppose in the end, you could say his biggest bad habit is his severely negative way of thinking.

▸ HAS YOUR MUSE LOST ANYONE CLOSE TO THEM ? HOW HAS IT AFFECTED THEM ? He’s lost people who are important to him as well as close to him. For important people, he has lost both his birth parents. While this is severe and had a noticeable affect on his growth, it is not quite the same as losing people close to him. The biggest loss he encountered was the death of his stepmother, who Takumi simply viewed as his mother. Watching her die traumatized him to the point where he still has nightmares about it, and it’s one of the biggest reasons why he’s full of hatred towards Kamui and the rest of Nohr. Later on in the war, he’d lose both of his retainers, which would further grow his melancholy as well as instill more feelings of failure in him, since they were acting under his orders. The guilt he feels is something I’d love to address more. The common factor is that every loss turns him into a sadder, lonelier person.

▸ WHAT ARE SOME FOND MEMORIES YOUR MUSE HAS ? Any time he could spend with his entire family is usually the fondest for him, and one memory that I’ve recorded of that can be found here. Specifically, that’s his coming of age ceremony. He has many small memories that he’s fond of too, like receiving the ribbon he usually wears in his hair from Hinoka, trying out sewing by fixing some torn dolls he and Sakura owned, and naming constellations with Ryoma until he fell asleep and had to be carried back to his room. He also has a couple of very faint memories of his birth parents, of being held by them and flickers of their voices.

▸ IS IT EASY FOR YOUR MUSE TO KILL ? Depends on the situation. In the heat of the battlefield, he can kill his enemy without remorse (generally). He does this by keeping in mind what he’s fighting for and all he has to protect. Outside of the battlefield, you’ll find lots more hesitation.

▸ WHAT’S IT LIKE WHEN YOUR MUSE BREAKS DOWN ? He will yell. His voice will raise in volume, even if the change is slight, and everything he feels comes gushing out at once. One stream of thought leads to another leads to another until he’s stringing himself raw with everything deep seated he has within him. He will cry, though most of the time he’ll try and stop the tears. He’ll become an ugly mess of emotions, growing less and less coherent until he runs out of tears.

▸ IS YOUR MUSE CAPABLE OF TRUSTING SOMEONE WITH THEIR LIFE ? He is, in fact he trusts exactly five people with his life: Ryoma, Hinoka, Sakura, Hinata, and Oboro. Outside of them though, he’s very hesitant to trust anyone with his life. He’d much rather take care of himself.

▸ WHAT’S YOUR MUSE LIKE WHEN THEY’RE IN LOVE ? No matter whether his feelings are returned or not, he will be an absolute sweetheart to the object of his affections. He’ll pamper and spoil anyone he likes, but if he’s in love, that person will see some pretty clear favoritism. He’s the type who’d gain an obvious spring in his step, though it comes with a negative side. He’ll doubt himself more than usual, question if he’s someone worthy of his love’s feelings, if he’s doing the right things for them, and so on. Depending on how long this goes on, his positive feelings could be poisoned.

TAGGING: Whoever wants this bad boy

#>> about him>#>> headcanon>#this was sitting in my drafts for so long lmao

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thiswomanshouldbewriting · 6 years

Text

A Tale of Magic - Chapter 5 (Quiet Minds)

After way too many days of procrastinating out of fear of getting this chapter wrong, I finally found the courage to post it. infinite thanks to @galactic-pirates, my wonderful beta, who was even more patient than usual with me.

In this chapter we learn how Rumplestiltskin was brought back from the dead, and what that meant for him. In present-day Storybrooke, Belle has a very emotional day. Zelena makes everybody miserable.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Ao3 link.

The Enchanted Forest, five months ago.

The man trembled before Zelena, his hands clenching nervously around the old key.

“So I just need to open that vault?” he asked, made suspicious by the apparent simplicity of the task.

“Yes. I believe even a monkey like you should be able to do that. Or should I give you a little incentive? Four children, three children… it doesn’t make much difference, does it?” Zelena threatened.

All color drained from the man’s face.

“No, please, you said you wouldn’t harm them,” he begged.

“I said I’d spare them if you did as you were told. If you really want to keep them safe, stop asking stupid questions, and do what I say,” Zelena remarked.

He nodded nervously, then turned around and walked to the center of the clearing. It was a warm day, but the metal circle that marked the entrance to the vault was ice cold. He knelt beside the lock, brushing the dirt off of the opening, then took a deep breath and pushed the key inside.

The key seemed to catch fire, turning incandescent against his hand as the air filled with the stench of burned skin. He screamed, falling back as he let the key go, the pain so intense that at first he didn’t even notice the black, gooey substance coming out of the vault.

“What’s going on?” he asked, terror rising in him as he realized how difficult it was becoming to form words.

“Don’t you know that all magic comes at a price? I needed to bring someone back from the dead, so someone else needed to die. I promised your family would be safe, I never said anything about you,” Zelena cackled.

He collapsed to the ground, his vision blurring. The last thing he was aware of was the shape of a man emerging from the goo.

Zelena watched in awe as her old mentor was forcefully brought back from limbo as the peasant’s life force was transferred to him. Centuries before, an ambitious king had tethered the Dark One’s soul to this vault, so that not even death could ever free him of the king’s control. The spell he had crafted to bring the Dark One back had never been tested before, but Zelena had never doubted that she would succeed. She was surprised by Rumplestiltskin’s appearance once the spell was completed: he looked human now, but there was no doubt that he was still the Dark One: the dagger in his hands still bore his name. Just as Zelena had expected, he was barely conscious once the spell was completed; being brought back from the dead was bound to leave him weakened for some time. He collapsed to the ground and barely even flinched when she took the dagger from his trembling fingers.

“Zelena… no…” he murmured, but not even panic could give him the strength to fight back. He was completely at her mercy.

“Save you breath, dearie,” she said, kneeling down so that her face was mere inches from his. “You’re going to need all of your strength very soon.”

**********

Storybrooke, present.

Belle had been in the shop all day. Ever since they’d come back to Storybrooke she’d been checking the inventory to see if anything had gone missing or if something new had made its way to the shop. She had found nothing relevant so far, but the pawnshop was so filled with trinkets that it would take her several more days to finish the job. She didn’t mind though; she enjoyed the cozy quiet of the shop, and being surrounded by Rumplestiltskin’s things made her feel closer to him. Sometimes she could almost imagine he was fixing something in the back, and that at any moment he’d walk past the curtain and ask her if she wanted a cup of tea. It was a bittersweet thought, one that sometimes warmed her from the inside and at others left her in tears.

Today had been a bit of a rollercoaster. First the news about the cloaked figure in the woods, then the ripple of magic as the curse was broken, and not long after that Neal had walked in, telling her of his encounter with his father. Rumplestiltskin was clearly in some sort of confused state, but after a while he had recognized his son. Belle was determined to see it as good news: if Rumplestiltskin had improved slightly after such a short time with Neal, whatever had been done to him was probably reversible. It had to be.

When her cellphone rang, Belle took a deep breath before answering, readying herself for the latest crisis.

“Hi Belle,” Emma said, her voice frustratingly neutral, carrying no hint of whether she was the bearer of bad or good news. “Are you sitting right now?”

Belle understood that Emma was just concerned for her and her baby, but even this short delay was hell on her nerves.

“Yes, now please just tell me what’s going on,” she all but begged.

“David and I just stopped a flying monkey from attacking Gold. The monster was chasing him through the woods, but while we dealt with the monkey Gold ran away from us too. He was confused, but he seemed to recognize me, or at least to remember that I’m on his side. He looked as though he was trying to say something but couldn’t bring himself to focus on it,” Emma explained. “We’re trying to track him down again, but I thought you needed to know immediately. The monkeys follow Zelena’s orders, they shouldn’t be attacking him. Either she lost control of them, or she lost control of Rumplestiltskin. Maybe he managed to get his hands on his dagger and escape. And if he did…”

“He’ll come to me,” Belle concluded for her, a smile forming on her lips. Her Rumple was coming back. He was coming home. “I’ll keep my eyes open, and I’ll be ready to face any flying monkey that might be chasing him. There’s more than enough magic in here to deal with them.”

“Still, I told Neal to join you at the shop. He has already been through enough today, and Gold will want to see him as well. If anyone can bring him back to his senses, it’s you two,” Emma said, her tone turning softer. She truly hoped things would turn out alright for them. She remembered what it was like, to be pregnant and scared, and she wouldn’t have wished that on her worst enemy, let alone Belle.

After hanging up the phone, Emma resumed her search with even more determination. She was the Savior, it was her duty to bring back the happy endings, and that now included Rumplestiltskin’s as well. She’d reunite him with his family, then they’d defeat Zelena together and Henry would be safe. That’s what she kept telling herself. It was a good mantra, but it didn’t stop the doubts from creeping up inside her, a dark thought she was completely unable to push back. Safe, sure, her fear whispered, but for how long?

**********

The Enchanted Forest, after Rumplestiltskin’s resurrection.

Rumplestiltskin was going mad. He had no memories of what being dead felt like, but he was sure not even hell could be this bad. Zelena had confined him to a small cage in the great hall of his own castle, forbidding him from doing any magic, and laying helplessly in the dirt day after day was quickly chipping away at his sanity. Zelena had total control over his life; she could starve him for days just as she could force feed him, all while taunting him and mocking him for his weakness. His immortality prevented him from suffering any lasting damage, so he couldn’t even hope death would put an end to his misery.

Even the solace of sleep was eluding him. Dark Ones didn’t need to sleep, and the constant fear and frustration he was living with guaranteed to keep him awake at all times. Dark magic was simmering in his veins, begging to be released, not accustomed to being trapped for so long. Every day he found himself spending more and more time picturing Zelena’s death, the images becoming increasingly gruesome as the darkness inside of him mounted. Soon enough, his skin started to show the change, gradually going back to its old reptilian appearance.

“We’re the same, you and I,” Zelena commented one day, pointing at his now completely scaly skin. “Our skin reflects who we really are on the inside. No matter how much you try to fight me, how much you want to tell yourself that you’ve changed, the truth is that you’re every bit as dark as I am. We both revel in darkness, and you were a fool to push me away.”

A wave of the dagger sent him to his knees as Zelena entered the cage and sat on the stool in front of him. This was the part of his imprisonment that he hated the most. He tried to keep his breathing under control as Zelena put her fingers on his temples and started reading his mind. Under any other circumstances, he could have stopped her; searching someone’s memories and thoughts was a delicate process, requiring both the expertise of the reader and complete compliance of the subject. Zelena’s magic was strong enough to grant her access to his mind, but she took no care in making the process any less painful for him. Every time it felt as though his head was about to explode, but he was forbidden to fight back, and the witch only seemed to take pleasure in the whimpers that sometimes escaped his lips.

He collapsed to the floor once she left him alone, fighting to hold back the tears and retain what little was left of his dignity. As always, he tried to make sense of all the memories that had flashed through his mind as Zelena read them; there had to be a pattern, something she was looking for, and if he could figure it out then maybe he could find some leverage against her. It worried him to no end that she seemed particularly interested in his family; she was digging for information about Belle, Bae, Henry and Emma, and he dreaded to know why. If he couldn’t get free, he had to at least find a way to warn them. One day Zelena would make a mistake, no matter how tiny, and he’d make sure that was her downfall.

**********

Storybrooke, present day.

Belle had never been good at waiting. She wasn’t one to sit around and wait for something to happen, or for someone else to solve the problem, yet waiting was the only thing she could do right now. Considering how nervous she was, she had given up on taking inventory - lest she accidentally spill a potion or break some rare item- and tried to distract herself with a book, but it was the tenth time she had read the same page, and she still had no idea of what it said. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Neal looking worriedly at her, but there was nothing he could do to help.

The sound of the front door banging open made her jump in her seat. Rumplestiltskin stumbled over the threshold, crumpling to the floor. Belle rushed around the counter, kneeling with some difficulty by his side.

“Rumple? Rumple can you hear me?” Her voice choked with emotion as she caressed his face. His eyes were closed, and she could already feel herself panicking when she heard Neal’s voice.

“He’s breathing. He just fainted. He’ll be alright,” he told her, laying a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

She didn’t want to leave Rumplestiltskin on the floor, but with her belly making her even clumsier than usual there was no way she could carry him to the cot, even with Neal’s help.

They had to wait until Regina arrived and used her magic to move him. Thankfully she was prompt and soon Rumplestiltskin was resting comfortably on the cot in the back. Belle sat by his side, taking one of his hands in hers. There was dirt under his nails and over his suit, and he had lost weight since the last time she saw him. Still, he was alive and with her, and that was the only thing that mattered.

She held her breath when he finally stirred. She knew he wasn’t quite himself, but she had to see it with her own eyes. She needed to see how bad the situation was before she could attempt to improve it somehow. Rumplestiltskin looked around confused, clearly trying to make sense of his surroundings.

“Hey, Rumple… do you recognize me?” Belle asked, gently squeezing his hand.

Rumplestiltskin stared at their entwined hands for what felt like a lifetime.

“Light,” he said eventually, looking up to meet Belle’s gaze.

In that moment, Belle knew that they’d be alright. Rumplestiltskin might not have said her name, but he knew that she and Bae were his guiding lights. Rumplestiltskin was trying to come back to them, and now she had proof of it.

“It’s alright, Rumple. You’re safe now,” she said reassuringly.

Apparently, those were the wrong words. Rumplestiltskin immediately became nervous, sitting up and slipping his hand from her grasp.

“Not safe, never safe,” he protested. “I must… warn you. Danger… Zelena… she’s coming for our baby.”

Every word seemed to cost Rumplestiltskin energy, and he took his head in his hands, on the verge of tears. The world was spinning around him, clearer than before and yet still so confused. He could feel cold sweat trickling down his neck, and he was starting to feel dizzy. The feeling of a warm, soft hand carding through his hair cut through his panic, anchoring him back to reality.

“Hey, hey it’s okay. You already warned us. You were incredibly brave, and without you we would have already lost,” the woman in front of him murmured, her voice soothing his fears just as much as Zelena’s presence fostered them. Light, that was the first word that came to his mind when he looked at her, but he knew she had a name, one that was close to his heart, a name that he should remember. How could he had forgotten it? Forget… forget… an accent you wouldn’t soon forget. Brown hair. Beautiful blue eyes. Her name is…

“Belle,” he breathed out in relief, in joy, in recognition. Another piece of the puzzle was in place, and he felt peace like he hadn’t in weeks, maybe months.

“Yes, it’s me, I’m here, and our baby is safe,” she said, smiling brightly as she took one of his hands and placed it on her belly.

That contact seemed to light another spark of recognition in his brain. More and more memories came to his mind as the world once again started to make sense.

“Bae, where is Bae?” he asked. He needed his family to be complete, he needed them all to clear the fog away.

“I’m here Papa,” Neal said immediately, taking Rumplestiltskin’s free hand.

Memories flooded Rumplestiltskin’s mind as he held hands with those he loved the most. Separations and reunions, fights and tender moments, all characterized by the love that had guided him and shaped him into the person he was now.

Even if Belle hadn’t felt the tingle of magic go through her fingers, she could have pinpointed the exact moment in which Rumplestiltskin remembered by the look in his eyes.

“Belle… Bae,” he called their names again, emotional and disbelieving, then pulled them into a hug.

Rumplestiltskin was finally home.

**********

Regina’s palace, three months ago.

“I have a surprise for you,” Snow told Belle one day. “If you want, I can tell you if you’ll be having a boy or a girl. I’ve finally found Ruth’s locket, and I can guarantee it works.”

Belle was fascinated by the locket, and gladly took the offer. She wasn’t hoping for a boy or a girl in particular, but it would be nice to know in advance, and she watched with bated breath as the necklace dangled over her palm.

“North to South,” Snow observed, “It means it’s a boy. Congratulations.”

Belle smiled thankfully at her, as the image of a little boy with Rumple’s eyes formed in her mind. Snow had been extremely supportive of her during the past several months, and they had grown a lot closer. Belle was incredibly thankful for her and her other friends; thanks to them, she had found new happiness in her life, and the thought of Rumplestiltskin was starting to bring more melancholy than despair. She still cried herself to sleep sometimes, and she doubted she would ever be over him, but her life had to go on, for her sake just as much as for her child’s.

The sound of the large windows bursting open made everyone in the room startle. Zelena flew through the open window and dismounted her broom, and then beside her appeared…

“Rumple,” the name left Belle’s lips in a choked whisper. After months of believing him dead, her True Love was in front of her. He was real, he was alive, and his dagger was in Zelena’s hands. David drew his sword, and a fireball formed in Regina’s hand, but before any of them could take action they were all frozen in place by a spell.

“Belle,” Rumple called to her, his voice full of despair. Then his gaze moved to her belly, and his eyes widened in surprise and horror. “You… you’re…”

“Yes, your little maid is pregnant with your child, why are you so surprised? Oh, I must have forgotten to tell you; I’ve known for months,” Zelena taunted him, and Belle felt white, hot rage course through her veins.

“Shush now, we didn’t come here for a family reunion. We came here to deliver a message,” Zelena went on, and Belle could see how Rumplestiltskin’s body tensed with her command, how abruptly his jaw slammed shut. Belle wasn’t sure if she had ever felt such fury before. She didn’t just want to get the dagger back from Zelena; she wanted to hurt her, and that wasn’t a sensation she was familiar with. All thoughts of revenge left her mind, however, when Zelena strode directly towards her and laid one hand on her belly. Trapped and unable to react, Belle could hardly hear Zelena’s words over the desperate, terrified beating of her heart.

“You see, I have a spell in mind, and your child is exactly what I need for it. So take care of it for me, because I’ll be back for your happy day,” Zelena gloated, her lips spreading in a smile that made Belle feel sick. She wanted to scream and run away, to get rid of Zelena and wrap her arms around Rumple, but all she could do was stare at the witch with wide eyes, unable to hide the utter terror in them.

Zelena and Rumplestiltskin vanished, the spell was lifted, and Belle staggered forward, her legs threatening to give out. She had just found out that her True Love was alive, but that joy had turned to ash in front of her eyes. Fear was drowning out all of her thoughts: if she didn’t do something, she was going to lose her child.

**********

Storybrooke, present day.

“I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long,” Belle breathed, eventually pulling back from their family hug.

Neal, feeling suddenly awkward, decided to join Regina in the front of the shop. He had come a long way with his father, but he was definitely not ready to see him be all sappy with his girlfriend; and he was one-hundred percent sure that his father was the sappiest, most foolishly romantic man in the world.

“I knew that our love could beat Zelena. That you could,” Belle went on as Neal left the room.

“Your unwavering faith constantly astounds me,” Rumplestiltskin replied, his voice breaking with emotion. There were tears in both his and Belle’s eyes, and after so long apart he simply couldn’t get enough of her. He wanted to hold her close and never let go, to bury his nose in her hair and forget the world. They both leaned forward at the same time, desperate for the kiss that they had been denied for too long. When their lips were only a breath apart, however, Rumplestiltskin abruptly pushed her back.

“Run,” he said in a whisper, his voice suddenly panicked.

“What?” Belle asked, confused. It didn’t make sense, everything was going so well.

“Run!”

Rumplestiltskin screamed this time, but Belle barely managed to get to her feet before Zelena appeared beside Rumplestiltskin, the dagger held firmly in one hand, her cruel laughter sending chills down Belle’s spine.

“Don’t mind me. I was just enjoying the show,” Zelena taunted, roughly grabbing a fistful of Rumplestiltskin’s hair and forcing him to look at her. “I’m sorry to ruin such a sickeningly sweet reunion, but I’m afraid Rumple and I have a lot of things to do. Thank you for bringing him back to sanity, by the way.”

“You knew. You set this all up. You set him free knowing that Bae and I could heal him,” Belle accused her, realization hitting her with the force of a truck. She could hardly believe how stupid she had been; with Zelena holding the dagger, it was ridiculous to think that Rumple could have escaped, but she had been so blinded by her own feelings that she had failed to notice all the red flags, and she had played right into Zelena’s hands.

“You heroes are so predictable; all I had to do was set him free and make him forget about it,” Zelena gloated.

“You made a huge mistake,” Rumplestiltskin growled. “Now that my mind is clear, it’s only a matter of time before I get that dagger back and run it through your chest.”

“You know you can't hurt me, but you're more than welcome to try. I do so enjoy watching futility wreck a man's will. Now be a good little Dark One, and get back to your cage,” Zelena said, pressing the dagger against Rumplestiltskin’s face.

Belle could see him tense at the contact, and saw the struggle in his eyes, how strongly he tried to fight the command, but to no avail. After one last, desperate glance at Belle, Rumplestiltskin disappeared in a puff of smoke. Zelena followed, and a beat later Neal and Regina barged in from the other room.

“She caught us by surprise and paralyzed us. What happened here, where is my father?” Neal asked immediately, kneeling beside Belle, who had collapsed into the nearest chair.

She wanted to tell him, but the more she tried the harder it was to form words past the lump in her throat. It hurt. It hurt to be this helpless. It hurt to think of the despair in Rumplestiltskin’s eyes, and how she hadn’t been able to do anything for him. It hurt to know that, despite all her efforts, she could never make things right. She wanted to be a hero, but the truth was that she was more of a liability. Her sobs grew louder and louder as the weight of what had just happened came crashing down on her, until a sudden pain in her low abdomen turned her despair into shocked horror.

“Belle? Belle, what’s wrong?” Neal asked frantically, worried by the sudden change in her expression.

Belle’s voice came out hoarse and feeble, each word dripping with fear.

“I think I’m going into labor.”

#Rumbelle #Rumbelle fic #Rumplestiltskin #Belle Gold #Belle French #Belle French-Gold #A Tale of Magic #Sara talks #Sara writes

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squirenonny · 7 years

Note

[whispers] soulmate au where you can steven universe style fuse with your soulmate(s)

*star eyes* Oh my gosh I love this idea!

So.

Everyone is born with a gem/precious stone (or sometimes a metal or mineral that wouldn’t normally be considered a gemstone) somewhere on their body. This isn’t a full-on gemsona situation, but gemstones as this AU’s soulmark equivalent.

There’s a hereditary component to what gem you get, but it’s not simple inheritance. (i.e. You have a higher probability of having the same gem as one of your parents, and some family lines run relatively pure, but it’s also common to share a gem with a more distant relative, or to have something your family hasn’t seen in recent generations)

Gems come in “families,” so even if a certain bloodline runs pure, there’s still going to be a little variation. For example, the beryl family–beryl, emerald, aquamarine, heliodor, ect–are very closely related. Hunk’s family tends toward beryl gems.

On that topic:

Hunk has a heliodor (a stone associate with warmth and sunshine) on his chest [example of a heliodor]

Pidge has a malachite (associated with nature and supposedly good at preventing sensory overload) at the nape of her neck [example of malachite]

Matt has a goethite (associated with grief and raw emotion, often found with malachite deposits) on the inside of his wrist [example of goethite]

Shiro has a black opal (associated with karma and the cosmos, and often thought to bring misfortune despite also being regarded as a healing stone; the black variant is notable for the stark contrast with the blues, greens, reds, and yellows contained within) at his collarbone [example of a black opal]

Lance has a turquoise (associated with luck and ambition, but also unity and leadership, and said to confer protection if given to you by a friend) on the back of his left hand [example of turquoise]

Keith has a vein of luxite (the metal in his mother’s blade, and not something anyone on Earth recognizes) across his right palm. He wears his gloves in part to hide it.

Theoretically, anyone can fuse with anyone else, but the vast majority of fusions are unstable. There’s no way to tell who can form a stable fusion with whom until it happens

The official definition of “soulmate” is “a pair or grouping that can remain fused indefinitely.” Since it’s obviously impossible to prove that you can stay fused forever, and since most unstable fusions fall apart quickly, the cutoff is often set at five minutes. Any people who can stay fused longer than that are considered soulmates (if they choose to label themselves that way.)

There’s also no way to tell from gems or from the fusion itself if the bond is romantic or platonic. You’d have to ask the people involved.

That doesn’t stop people from coming up with a millions theories anyway. (”Romantic partners always have the same gem!” “Romantic partners NEVER have the same gem!” “Platonic partners will always have gems in the same family!” “There are romantic sets–but good luck reaching an agreement on what the sets are.”)

Fusions look just like regular people with a few exceptions: they’ll have 2+ gems, but depending on placement you might not be able to tell; their eyes will usually be banded the colors of members of the fusion, but you have to look closely to notice; and there will sometimes be additional markings in the colors of the gems, often forming a trail connecting the two gems.

Other than those minor physical differences, fusions are also notably different if you look at brain scans. They don’t generally maintain two (or more) separate consciousnesses, but they retain the knowledge, memories, and capabilities of the people involved, and they tend to have much higher levels of brain activity on any given task. Fusions who are familiar with their fused state tend to be more dexterous, have better reflexes, and be physically stronger than their unfused counterparts, and they tend to solve problems more quickly and more efficiently.

The rest of this (i.e. the Voltron ‘verse story) is going under a cut because this is already long.

Matt and Shiro accidentally fused one day during training for the Kerberos mission. They were completing a simulation where the engines had failed halfway to Kerberos and life support was flickering. Very high pressure situation and all that. Sam was “injured” for the purposes of the simulation–able to give advice over the radio, but confined to the “med bay” (control booth where Iverson was supervising). Matt and Shiro got into a rhythm, to the point that they didn’t immediately realize they’d fused. It wasn’t until they couldn’t get Sam to respond to one of their questions–they thought it was part of the simulation and his condition had turned critical or something, and Matt turned to ask Shiro if he had repairs in hand so Matt could go check on Sam, and then suddenly it hit them.

The mission control team was ecstatic about this development–fusion-capable teammates are a huge advantage to any crew, and Shiro and Matt proved to be highly stable. They had to undergo special training and classes about when it is and isn’t appropriate to fuse during a mission–it’s a matter of balancing hands to cover all stations with the enhanced capabilities of the fusion–and how to make sure their personal relationship didn’t become a liability, but they were just as giddy about it as Iverson and the others.

They weren’t fused when they were captured, and they were kept in different cells prior to the Arena, but when they were led to the vestibule and Matt was told he was going to be fighting first, Shiro fused with him on instinct. The other prisoners instantly backed against the walls, and the guards came with strange weapons that disrupted the fusion, forcing Shiro and Matt apart–apparently fusions are a highly revered part of Galra battle culture, and prisoners are too crude to be allowed to take part.

The force de-fusion left them both reeling. Shiro recovered first, using the pain and confusion as an excuse to lash out at Matt, wounding him and keeping him out of the Arena. (Matt, still dazed at the time, looked horribly betrayed by the act, and Shiro always wondered whether Matt thought Shiro really meant it.)

Fusion is actually a fairly common thing, though most people find it too inconvenient to do it frequently, or else haven’t found anyone they have a stable fusion with. First fusions usually happen either with family around 10-12 years old or with friends/partners in the early to mid teens, and in both cases are usually highly unstable and last only a few seconds.

Lance first fused with an older cousin when he was ten (it’s happened once or twice since, but never lasted more than a minute)

Hunk first fused with Lance when he was 13 (by their third or fourth fusion, they’d stabilized, and after going to space they often fuse just to feel less alone)

Pidge first fused with Matt when she was 9 and he was teaching her how to build a robot (they stayed fused until the robot was done, about two hours later, at which point Sam walked in, asked how long they’ve known they could fuse, and got a blank look in return.)

Shiro first fused with his twin brother when they were 11 (they’re very inconsistent–they have been fused for an hour at a time, but just as often they’ll immediately split apart, and they aren’t entirely sure why except that sometimes being fused makes them feel further apart than sticking to their same old rhythms.)

Keith didn’t fuse until he was 16 and had known Shiro for about a year. Keith had picked a fight with another student at the Garrison, Shiro came along to break it up, and they ended up accidentally fusing, which scared the shit out of the other cadet. Shiro and Keith’s fusion barely lasted thirty seconds, mostly because Keith was freaked out by the whole experience–he’d honestly started to think he wasn’t capable of fusion with anyone. They fused a few more times (with more success) either so that Shiro could show Keith how to fly the simulators or because Keith wanted to take Shiro out into the desert on his cheap-ass hoverbike, which really was only built to hold one.

Hunk and Shay fused, briefly, during the battle for the Balmera. Hunk uses the fact that they fell apart after about two minutes to prove to Pidge that they aren’t in love (and Pidge doesn’t need to know that they fused again later and made it to ten minutes before they both got bashful and de-fused.)

During Crystal Venom, Allura kinda accidentally fused with the ship’s crystal? It’s really, really not supposed to work that way, but Alfor’s AI tricked her into thinking she was fusing with him, and… yeah. Turns out the lions can mimic fusion (in fact, that’s what the Voltron itself drew inspiration from). The five lions force themselves partway into Allura’s fusion with the castle, destabilizing the whole thing and allowing Allura to come back to herself so she can break Alfor’s memory core and save them all.

During The Black Paladin, Keith partially fuses with Red, and Zarkon tries to force a fusion with Black. It doesn’t work, but the attempt leaves Shiro shaken and Black reluctant to fuse with Shiro at all, at least until the events of Space Mall. On the astral plane, Shiro and Black fuse (spiritually, if not physically) and cast Zarkon out for good.

Ulaz also has luxite as his gem–it’s relatively common for Galra, and that in combination with the blade that matches Keith’s makes him very, very nervous about what he’s going to learn about himself when he goes to the Blade headquarters. He hasn’t fused with Shiro since Shiro came back, and he still hasn’t managed to fuse with anyone–despite Pidge and Hunk managing it briefly once when they were working on the lions, Shiro and Allura fusing while Zarkon was chasing the castle across the universe, and even Lance and Allura fusing once when Lance flirted with her–and promptly de-fusing so violently they both skidded halfway across the bridge.

Part of the Trials of Marmora is supposed to be achieving a stable fusion with an established Blade, under the understanding that someone who’s loyal to Zarkon wouldn’t be able to remain fused with a rebel. Keith doesn’t manage it (maybe because they don’t tell him he’s supposed to try, and the allies who come in to help him fight are so aggressive that Keith assumes they’re just more enemies. He lets them take out each other, but fights on his own, as he always has.) He awakens his blade at about the same time as Shiro crashes the test, but Kolivan is still intent on taking it back since he didn’t manage a fusion.

Then Keith and Shiro fuse (unintentionally, and it takes a moment to stabilize because Keith is all too aware of Shiro’s history with the Galra and the fact that Keith himself is Galra. Shiro holds on, though, and once Keith realizes Shiro isn’t pulling back, he relaxes and the fusion stabilizes.) Kolivan accepts this as passing the trials less because it actually counts and more because two fused paladins isn’t someone he wants to make an enemy of.

Keith and Hunk fuse, briefly, inside the Weblum–something Acxa finds fascinating, if slightly troublesome. Lotor’s team can fuse in nearly any combination they want to (Acxa has trouble fusing with Zethrid, and Ezor with Narti, but other than that they’re all pretty well in sync.) That’s always been the greatest advantage they had, but if the paladins can also fuse…

Fusion, as it turns out, can deepen the Voltron bond. The team finds this out when they face Zarkon at the end of season 2 and achieve a partial 5-way bond. Because they’re each in their own lions, they can’t physically fuse, but the familiar mind-link becomes a literal single mind as their consciousnesses fuse. When Haggar rips them apart, the effects are staggering and that, more than even the Quintessence drain, nearly kills them, but they pull it together and manage to defeat Zarkon.

Lance and Allura fuse again just after Allura first pilots Blue, when Lance is helping her figure out how to bond with her lion. It’s still awkward, but far more stable than their first disastrous attempt, and it does, actually, help Allura get in sync with Blue.

Actually, Lance kinda wishes he could fuse with Keith and get inside Red’s head, but so far it hasn’t happened. They’re close–on Thayserix, when Lance and Keith are alone and Keith admits he’s screwed everything up–when Lance acknowledges the truth in that statement but moves immediately to “Let’s fix it (together)” they feel something. A tug, like they might have been able to fuse if they physically could. So far they haven’t come close again, but honestly, it’s only a matter of time.

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