Lance is fed up. In all his years, he has only known life inside the Castle of Lions. As he described it, a prison cell disguised as an extravagant home for the royal. He longs to get away, but his newly crowned sister, Allura, won't have it. So, against her younger brother's wishes, she hires a bodyguard to keep him 'safe' inside the castle. But, the new guard turns out to be... odd. Not quite Altean, not quite Galran. Compared to Lance and the rest of the empire, one could say Keith has many strange differences. *** "So..." Allura continued, clearing her throat. Her neck likely aced from looking up for so long. "I know you're not going to like this news, but... It's for the kingdom's best... It's for your best. If something ever happens to me-" "Yeah, yeah. I'll have to step up as king." Lance mumbled. He just wanted to be done with this conversation. Whatever bad news Allura was about to tell him, he didn't even care. His life sucked. How could she possibly make it suck any more? "I've hired a bodyguard." Lance nearly tipped off the wall. He was wrong before. There was a way to make Lance's life suck more! "W-what!" He spat, throwing his arms out to his sides to keep balance. "You did what now?" *** Cover art credited to: feradoodles.tumblr.com Altea Dictionary: TICK: second DOBASH: minute VARGA: hour QUINTENT: day QUIZNAK: Altean curse word GROGGERIES: currency TELUDAV: a device which uses scaultrite from the Weblum to create wormholes. SLOVEN-DAY-HO: gone WAZN: the Altean star (not cannon) PURPLE JUNIBERRY: a type of Altean flower ALTEANS: Altea inhabitants GALRA: Lord Zarkon's race which fought against the Alteans

❝You're gonna spent New Year's Eve with your mother.❝ *** (Teenage Septiplier AU) COMPLETED

in which a demon named dan accidentally falls in love with an angel named phil. {phan au} highest ranking- #27 in danisnotonfire

Every time the both of us die, we are reincarnated again. We were born to love each other, it was decided by fate.

"(adj.) too great to be expressed in words." Take My Klance Trash & Prepare To Suffer :)

Keith wishes for a lot of things and Lance IS NOT one of them. klace (keith x lance) boy x boy cover art by pitypagn from twitter

The year is 2096. The earth has seen two more world wars since 2016. The last war that destroyed a quarter of Canada and half of Japan, was enough to make the government enforce strict actions. Countries are now split, no communication at all between them. Humans now live in conglomerations of small pods stacked upon each other. Each person has their own space, but they're all confined to being underground. Half of the people living inside the pods have never seen natural sunlight. Birth rates are violently controlled due to the lack of space and pods constantly having to be built. Couples are allowed, but physical contact reaching past anything more than a hug is forbidden. Sex is strictly banned unless it is agreed by contract or an operation is done to assure a baby cannot be created. It's a tough life. It's a boring life. And it's a lonely one too. A life underground simply isn't good enough for some and sooner or later, you have to leave the shadows.

Currently: 42,000+ words Status: Ongoing series Jack didn't ask to move thousands of miles away from home in Ireland, moreover he didn't ask to move to a kingdom that had more problems than it had benefits. Except for his few friends that provided him with a place to stay, he hardly knew anyone or anything that this foreign place had to offer him. Well, he had to admit he was at least somewhat grateful for his job though. Mucking the stables under the King himself wasn't that bad, it could be worse; he didn't mind being outdoors all hours of the day and the pay wasn't half bad...but the package that seems to ride along the tail end has really started to become a nuisance. Mark didn't ask to be born a prince, especially one that was forbidden to step foot outside the castle else he'd disgrace his family. From what? He wasn't sure, but his Mother enforced the rule harshly upon him nonetheless. As he's pushed towards a life he doesn't want, holed up in the prison of a castle with no friends, he'd come to accept that he would never live a normal life. To ease his mind on lonely days, Mark often visited the stables with a bit of help from some sympathetic guards. The old keeper there was kind to him, as were the workers; he found the place to be his little form of temporary escape. But, on one fateful day he's introduced to a new worker. He is rude and bitter and talks to Mark as if he's held a lifelong grudge against him, but Mark can't help but find the Irishman the slightest bit intriguing. There's something about him. As the two slowly begin to get closer, Mark begins to realize that the stable boy isn't really the rude asshole he plays to be. In all, he's just an undeniable idiot... ...An idiot who might just steal his heart.

"I'm stupid," John says. "Why?" "Because I fell in love with you." "Yeah," Sherlock responds, "Definitely stupid." Set over the course of one school year in 2009, this is the story of two star-crossed misfits - Sherlock and John - smart enough to know that first love almost never lasts, but brave and desperate enough to try. They struggle through identity crisis, drug addiction, and child abuse together, along with dealing with the pain of a highschool that labels them as freaks. When Sherlock meets John, they spark a love that will remind you of your first - and how hard it pulled you under. "STFU ITS THE BEST FANFICTION I HAVE EVER READ AND YOU CAN QUOTE ME ON THAT" - @dearwatson when I was arguing with her this one time Cover art by @meglet713 and re-edit by my dad, @dearwatson No copyright infringement intended. Story and characters belong to Rainbow Rowell and BBC Sherlock. (no reposting please)

He is lavish. Masterful. Intellectual, inexplicable, overt. Sexual. Sherlock Holmes defines extravagance. He isn't exactly the best thing for John's tireless, bland stability. John works the nine to five and tries not to lose sleep over the small things - like the labor of his fiancée's expectations, and the sirens that fill his head with noise after curfew. He finds comfort in art, and drinking. Besides the war making its presence known, slowly creeping its black tendrils into the heart of Bristol - John's life is quiet. Given that, he's not surprised when he is dragged into Sherlock Holmes's orbit. There is no manual to help him navigate the moment their eyes first meet; he presents himself as the perfect distraction, a beautiful incendiary miracle. John thinks that maybe he was hoping for this, because: Sherlock is potent, and inflammatory, and perfectly willing to make John's life hell for his own self-indulgent pleasure. With one touch, John's sense of self is corrupted. And what does it matter if the world implodes? It was never kind to them to begin with.