eastofthemoon:

After seeing @absolem0 awesome Witch Allura fanart, it inspired me to write this.  I hope you all like it! (And check out that fanart, it’s really cute and pretty!)

Title: Something Familiar

Rating: G

Series: Voltron Legendary Defender

Characters: Allura, Shiro, Keith, Lance, Hunk, and Pidge

Summary: Allura sensed something was afoot, but surely she could handle it.  She was a witch after all.

Archive of Our Own

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Someone was in her house.  It was the first thought that flew into her head as she awoke.  She groggily pulled aside the curtain of her canopy bed to check the clock on her nightstand.

It was 2 am.

Way too early to be dealing with this.  Allura became still as she wait for another disturbance, but none came.

She pulled the dark purple covers up to her neck and lingered in their familiar scent to calm herself.

I probably just dreamt it, she thought as she shut her eyes, or it could have been a squirrel wandering by.  It’s hardly the first time it happened.

The warmth of her bed lured her back into sleep until she felt it again.  The magical vibration  of someone crossing over her protection wards.

Once was odd, but twice at this hour of the night hinted someone was afoot.

Allura grumbled, but forced herself to get up and let her silk sheets fall to the floor as she climbed out.  She didn’t want to deal with this, but she had no choice.  Allura had to inspect what the cause was.

Keep reading

squidbiscuit:

You can’t pretend McCree is meant to be a “serious” character in any sense of the word. 
1. It’s the future and this fucker is Wild Wild Westin’ it.
2. You can literally HEAR Matt Mercer smiling in almost all his damn lines.
3. There’s basically no info on this fucker other than the vaguest shit they could get away with because honestly I don’t think they even wrote that much for him past the ~aesthetic~.
4. The most “serious” aspect of him is he’s always squinting. That don’t make him serious, this dummo is obviously farsighted and won’t wear glasses ‘cause they mess up his ~aesthetic~
5. 

Fuck you, let people have fun with a character you piece of shit.

prokopetz:

The thing I love about cats is that they’re basically born ready to throw down. There’s something strangely life-affirming about seeing a ball of fuzz that could fit in the palm of your hand with room to spare react to an unfamiliar creature literally a hundred times its size by going “I roll Intimidation”.

sadoeuphemist:

writing-prompt-s:

When someone’s heart breaks so does a piece of our world; this creates fissures, valleys, and even cracks in the pavement. Tell me the story behind the Grand Canyon.

You
understand that love is tectonic. That it is the ground beneath us. You
think of heartbreak, and imagine upheaval, destruction. She will leave
you, and with two words tear apart the foundations of the life you have
built together. The earth will disintegrate beneath you, leaving you in
free-fall, stumbling desperately for footing. The earth will fissure
into an insurmountable chasm, black and jagged and infinitely deep. You
imagine violence. You imagine romance.

Here is the truth: this chasm took us lifetimes to create. We rose
blindly from the oceans, carried together by the implacable currents of
geology. Our love was sea and salt air, an intricate, painful process of
fusion that brought us onto dry land. Our passion was heat, it was
magma. At points, we did not understand where one of us stopped and the
other began. We formed mountains. We formed continents.

It was the memory of water that ate away at us, an imperceptible
stream rushing backwards to the sea. We married young. We had never
known anything but each other. The river grew from a dozen tiny
tributaries, a dozen points of regret. And even as we rose past the
unstable memories of our youth, the river remained steady, level,
cutting ever deeper. There were landslides, certainly, violent and
dramatic, but seemingly harmless tremors in the scope of history. We quarreled. We had
our lovers’ spats. And quietly, imperceptibly, we tore each other apart.

You can see it, preserved in layers, our history carved in scars. We
knew. We must have known all along. This is our love. This is a canyon.
This is lifetimes worth of heartbreak. People stand on the edge of what
we shared and gaze upon the bloody fossilized remnants of love, and call
it beauty.

You fall in love, and feel the earth shake beneath you. What you do not yet understand is that it will always be in motion.