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Pretty girls and pretty flowers 🌺 === Good lord today was hecktic, so sorry about the lack-luster post...

Shaandaar 2015 

I can not fucking deal with how funny this video actually is.

Svidge Week - Day 2: Sven’s Reality + Angst

(Might also be a scene in “Golden Madness”??? So???)

===

Sven was nervous.

I mean, sure, he was willing to risk his life for the Guns of Gamora…but this?

This was madness.

Here he was, just an adverage member, on his way to meet THE HEADS of the Guns of Gamora themselves. The fabled Prince and his brilliant wife. The lakers of this great rebellion wanted to personally meet him.

And Slav.

“Just relax Sven, the Prince and his Princess in this reality are known to be 78% more merciful than in any other reality.” Sadly, even Slav’s universal probabilities did nothing to soothe Sven’s frazzled nerves as they walked through the last door to their meeting place.

Thus began the wait.

And no amount of shifting his weight or fidgeting did anything to ease the nervousness spinning in Sven’s stomach. Had they done something wrong? Was the Prince displeased with their performance? Were they g-

“Sorry for the wait!” Sven perked up at the sound of a voice, female but gruff. And a daintier, happier sound. Bells and bangles, he supposed.

Then he saw her.

And she made Sven’s knees go weak. He wanted to collapse onto the floor, but he was so taken by her appearance, Sven couldn’t look away. She simultaneously made him weak in the legs and heart pound in ways nothing ever had before.

She was gorgeous.

Small and pale and freckles all over her soft skin. A slender, toned frame that a pure white catsuit clung to. A laboratory official’s uniform, Sven dimly recognized. The only difference being the small, pale green shawl wrapped around her delicate shoulders. Everything about her seemed so…small and pale.

Except her presence.

She descended from the high staircase with the greatest amount of dignity and grace Sven had ever seen. Her gait posed and purposeful in every way. Seeming to radiate authority.

Gold, belled anklets ringing with every step.

Shining, golden bangles sparking on her wrists.

Her face came into clearer view, and Sven nearly started at it. Make no mistake, her features were as lovely as the rest of her.

But horribly scarred.

Her right eyelid appeared to have been sliced mercilessly, but it had, miraculously, healed enough to where it only left very harsh scars along her freckled skin.

Her eye, however, was another matter.

It had been removed completely in favor for a cybernetic one that appeared to operate just like the other eye. Sven, though, was no stranger to scars. But on her…they seemed almost cruel.

And she seemed proud of them.

Wearing the slashes along her right eye like badges of honor. As if a testament to her life. And it suddenly made this small woman seem larger than life.

Her hair the color of fire.

No wait…maybe? Not quite fire, but not quite orange either. A color Sven had never seen before. So warm and startling against the pale colors of skin and clothes, it was nearly as jarring as the slashes across her face.

But it looked so soft.

Long and curling to her slim waist. Pitch-black eyelashes, on both eyes, fluttered over to him to meet his eyes.

Sven nearly jolting.

Her remaining, human eye was the same bright gold as her bangles and anklets. Bright and warm and sharp with intelligence and purpose. Red lips curled up invitingly against the soft green markings under her eyes.

Pointed ears adored with long earrings.

“You must be Sven, it’s nice to finally meet you.” And there she was, standing right in front of him. One of the most beautiful Alteans he had ever seen. Sven had been right.

She was short.

Even with the heels.

But still, he grasped her outreached hand as respectfully as he could. Trying not to think about the callouses on the tips of her fingers or the softness of her skin.

Or the sweat coating his palms.

Their hands parted from each other in a way that almost hurt. He must’ve continued to stare at her, despite his best efforts. Face flushing red. But how could he not? It was impossible not to gaze upon such a bright little creature like her.

A woman who smiled like a defibrillator.

“L-Likewise Ms…?”

“Oh! It’s Pidge. Just Pidge is fine.” Pidge laughed, waving those small hands of her’s in front of her as if to swat away any formalities. Sven rolled the name off his mouth.

Pidge.

He liked it.

“So do you know why you were called here Sven?” Her tone now serious, her gold eye boring into his gray ones. Sven stood up straighter. Right. He was meeting the Guns of Garmora’s Prince and Princess. 

"No ma'am." Her red lips gave a little twitch at the title, but she turned away from him all the same. Breaking that entrancing eye contact.

Looking towards Slav.

“But I'm guessing you have an idea as to why?" Slav didn’t even wait a tick. Closing two pairs of his arms and puffin out his chest proudly. 

"Of course! For instance there is a 28% percent chance that in this reality you are here to kill us."

“Only 28%? I must be getting soft in the other realities then!“ Good Stars above that teasing smile on her face would be the death of him. Slav, however, took to comment as a grave offense. His large eyes narrowing in a near comical way. Shrieking his protest. 

“Yes! ‘Only 28%’, are you doupting me?”

“Are you threatening my mate?”

Sven looked towards the new voice.

From the top pf the staircase was none other than the Prince himself. Founder and leader of the Guns of Gamora. One of the last Galrans alive.

Prince Lotor.

He truly was as fearsome as they said. Purple skin with yellow-azure eyes. Short silver hair trimmed just above his neck. Red markings, like bloodied cuts on his cheeks. With face full of sharp, chiseled angels that made him all the more intimidating.

Earrings dangling from his pointed ears.

As the Prince decended from the stars, Sven suddenly felt small. Dressed in black and metal plates, the Prince left no room to question his authority. Taking away all the oxygen in the room with his mere presence. His long, red-violet cape snapping behind him like a serpent as he glared at Slav.

“I’ll repeat myself one more time, were you threatening my mate?” Curling his lips back, Lotor snarled at Slav. The latter quickly hiding behind Sven. Shaking his head left and right vigorously. The Prince relaxing.

Sven’s heart having long since stopped.

Mate?

He couldn’t…

There was no way…

“Easy Pretty Boy, Easy…” Pidge laughed like the bells on her ankles. Bright and cheerful with that gruff voice of her’s. Walking over to Lotor, slipping her hand in his.

Pulling him down for a kiss.

The Prince’s eyes fluttered shut above Pidge as he reached for the shawl around her shoulders. All his remaining tension disappearing under Pidge’s care. Lips moving together in habitual sync. Slipping the green shawl off her body to reveal bare, smooth shoulders.

A bite mark like scar on one of them.

There was a noise Sven couldn’t place, in his head perhaps? A sort of mournful wailing. Dimly, Sven remembered the lessons about the near-extinct Galran race that the Guns of Gamora’s Generals had taught him, back when he had first enlisted.

“Galrans mate only once…”

They pulled away, the Prince’s eyes dreamy as he stared down at the small, smiling woman with the gold eye and scarred face.

Love in every feature.

“They chose a single mate who they trust to stay by their side…Marking them with a scar.”

“You’ll be the death of me Katherine.” But Lotor smiled as he said this, voice low and purring. Arms moving to wrap around Pidge’s slim waist. But she only rolled her mismatched eyes and smacked his shoulder.

Still smiling.

“Hush! We have work to do, you crazy thing.” She finally, finally looked back at Sven. Love lighting every single one of her beautiful, scarred features. Love.

Love for Lotor.

“They are then bound to each other. Never to leave, never to betray one another…”

“Sorry about that Sven, this guy,” At this, Pidge elbowed Lotor in the side. “He’s a handful.”

Sven couldn’t answer. He was a grown man drowning on dry land. His throat felt like it was stuffed with towels. Tongue dry and heavy in his jaw as he watched the Galran Prince and his wife smile softly at one another.

“Ah…so this is the reality that the Princess is the Galran Prince’s mate…” Slav murmured absentmindedly, coming out from his hiding space behind Sven.

While Sven could only smile.

“It’s alright.”

Like ripping his own heart out.

Y’all got until midnight

After that, winners will be announced on Sunday

HAPPY ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY TO GOLDEN MADNESS!!!✨🎊🎉❤️

YES! You all heard me! Today is GM’s official one year anniversary!

A year ago, on this day, I posted GM never knowing the amazing people I’ve met along the way.

SO THANK YOU FOR STICKING WITH ME FOR AN ENTIRE YEAR!!!

I know updates have been few and far in between, but know that, while life continues to kick my ass, I don’t plan of giving up on this monster of a fic just yet! And because of that…

I’VE DECIDED TO HOST A GIVEAWAY!!!!

One on my Tumblr and one on my Instagram. Where I will be giving a FULL PAPERBACK copy of GM so far along with some extra goodies to one lucky person ! The rules are as follows.

HAPPY ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY GUYS!!! 😘❤️❤️❤️✨🌟⭐️✨🏆🎉🎊💖As promised, I will be hosting a HUGE giveaway where I will be give one of you lovely people a full paperback version of Golden Madness so far! Rules are as follows:

❤️Reblog this pic.

❤️Tag me and must be following

❤️In the caption, tell me your favorite scene/line from Golden Madness and why.

❤️One entry per person on both platforms so please play fair guys! (Though I will allow redos after the new chapter is posted!)

❤️ Will run from May 21st - June 28th!

Once again, thank you all so much for your continued love and support.

It’s because of all the wonderful people I’ve met through this this little Shidge/Lotidge fanfic that has made this my longest running project in any media form. And this giveaway is just one way I’ve wanted to give back to y’all.

Have fun and I hope to see your entries soon! 😘❤️

With Love, Potentiala

Lotidge Ship Week: Day 1 - Trust

(Quick note that NONE of this is tied to “Golden Madness” in any way. And will follow a linear story for the rest of the week. Enjoy!)

===

Hostility, he expected.

But an IMMEDIATE knife to the throat? The Voltron Paladin must hate him more than he had previously thought. Said welder of the very pointy Luxite blade was the Half-Galra Paladin that had freed Acxa from the Weblum. Now, what was his name again?

“Keith, is it? This is pretty poor gratitude from someone who just stopped your suicide mission into that shield.” Something flashes in those gray-violet eyes. Something like shame and anger.

It made Lotor want to laugh.

Was that all it took to get these Paladins riled up? How cute. Keith curled his lips back in a very Galra way, pushing the point of the blade deeper. So that a drop of blood appeared right next to the Galran’s Prince’s jugular.

“YOU DID WHAT?” Thank the Stars Lotor had the sense to take a step back as the Keith whipped around at the sudden, new voice. A boy in blue armor appearing. Pretty, even as his face twisted in worry and anger.

But not his type.

“Keith?! You were going to what?”

“L-Lance, I was only trying to-“

“Trying to do what? Be a quiznacking hero again?”

“What’s that suppose to m-“

“Did I just start a lover’s quarrel?” Lotor thought out-loud. Stars, just watching these two brought another wave of aching pain to Lotor’s head.

They galred at him.

Which, naturally, resulted Keith’s knife finding its way back to its spot on Lotor’s throat. Ugh. Well give him a blade to the throat over a lover’s quarrel any-

“WE’RE NOT LOVERS!” Said lovers shouted in perfect sync at the exact same time. Lotor raising a single white eyebrow in response.

Their faces flushed red.

On second thought, having a discussion with the Defenders of the Universe might not have been the best idea. Especially if he had to deal with two pining idiots. He should’ve just flown into the sun and saved himself this misery.

“So, uh, this is the guy that just saved us?” Looking away from the oblivious males in front of him, Lotor watched as a larger male in yellow armor walked into the hanger all-to cautiously. Staring at the Galran Prince as if he would suddenly lash out and rip their heads off. And, believe him. He wanted to. But he couldn’t.

Not when they were all he could turn to.

It hurt his pride to admit such a thing, but between that witch and his father…he had to come in and save the people who dreamt of the Empire’s fall to gain some semblance of credibility. He despised the feeling of needing something so desperately, but here he was.

Begging.

“Prince Lotor, a…pleasure I’m sure.” Lotor growled as he glanced between the knife at his neck and the Keith. Which only served to get said knife pushed even closer to the Prince’s neck. Damn, if his generals hadn’t taken his weapons-

“While, I’d like to thank you for what you did, I can’t afford to let our guard down. Especially not to you.” A new voice chided, not unlike a parent’s scolding of a child, as a man dressed in black armor walked up to Lotor. A man the Galran Prince instantly recognized.

The Champion himself.

But how did-No. No, this man wasn’t the Champion. Lotor knew it, felt it. This man prancing around in his father’s old armor may look just like that Champion, but he wasn’t. His scent was too cold, too devoid of any real trauma. Something was wrong with his man.

Something very, very wrong.

“I think you should worry about your guard being too high, Champion.” The man even reacted blankly to an otherwise traumatic title.

Curious.

“Our guard is plenty high enough Prince Lotad.” Oh for the love of-Could no one hold a real conversation in this damned ship?! And who would dare insult-

He saw her.

The sight of her made Lotor subconsciously stand up straighter. The small woman walking to stand by the fake Black Paladin’s side. Hair short and amber-colored, curling around a pretty face. A woman in war, Lotor was no stranger to…but she looked so young. Her features still soft with youth. But her eyes…her gold, gold eyes…

They burned.

Scorched and killed as she glared at him. Seemingly more distrutive than the Half-Galra who currently had a knife to the Prince’s throat. Those eyes were not young.

Not in the least.

“Why did you do it?” The questioning outburst came as a surprise. Even to the Green Paladin who said them and the Galran Prince they were directed at. And, despite every logical part of Lotor’s brain telling him not to, he looked up into those bight eyes. Held those eyes within his own like a spoil of war. Beautiful and focused.

Just his type.

“Because I have to trust you.”

This Grief Like Fire - lio fotia web weave (promare)

Keep reading

Lotidge Ship Week: Day 5 - Obsession

===

He’s drunk, was Pidge’s first thought.

But no, Lotor looked perfectly focused as he ushered her out of the gala and into an isolated balcony. She didn’t say anything at first, the look on his face was telling enough. But curiosity and concern eventually won out in the end.

“Lotor! What are you-“

“What are we Pidge?” The question jarred her. Shocked her to a stop as they stood at the balcony’s entrance. Pale yellow moonlight shining through the open space. Turning Lotor’s silver hair a tawny gold and he stared at her.

Only an arm’s reach away.

She didn’t know how to answer. She, Katherine ‘Pidge’ Holt, was at a loss for words for once. Gazing up into Lotor’s nightlight eyes. Trying to put her feelings into words.

Trying to explain how she felt.

Make no mistake, the Galran Prince could drive her crazy sometimes, but in the short time Pidge has known him…he…he had endeared himself to her.

Crazy as it sounds.

But Pidge found his silent, thinking nature to be a great comfort. He never pushed and shoved his way into knowing more about her. Content with her secrets. He respected her opinion, looking at her like she was exactly his equal.

Exactly the person he wanted by his side.

How could Pidge ever respond to something like that? How could she ever find the words to describe the way her heart raced when she looked into his eyes as he thanked her? Or when he would smile wolfishly whenever he was about to tease her? Or how his touch, cold-blooded skin and all, sent shivers up and down her spine like signal waves? How could she describe that?

How could she tell him that?

“Or am I the fool here? Am I the only one who cares what we have between u-”

“I care!” Pidge cried, casting her eyes down. She felt as if the ground was crumbling underneath her feat. Of course she wanted to have something more with Lotor, but what they were doing…were they going too fast? Was what they were doing really-

Lotor kissed her.

A hard, passionate kiss that made Pidge’s head spin. Throwing every thought that didn’t pertain to the Galran Prince’s lips on her’s out of her head. Both too far gone in a fascination with the other to think or act rationally. Breaking for air only when it was absolutely necessary.

Lotor looked at her.

All tangled up in his arms. Warm, lively body around his own. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Had you asked the Galran Prince a month ago what he wanted most in life, he would’ve answered that his father’s throne was his only goal.

But not anymore.

Pidge looked at him.

Looked him with those big gold eyes of her’s. Always so sharp and attentive…now soft. Soft just for him. Ah, he was doomed.

Doomed to be destroyed by her hands.

Pidge could only hold his face in her hands as Lotor looked like he wanted to laugh. Laugh in a crazy, broken sort of way as he looked down at her. Entrapped in his arms. He bent his head to whisper to her. Silver hair making a makeshift curtain for the two of them.
 Eyes soft.

"You'll be the death of me."

Zethrid could punch me in the face and I'd say thank you 😊

It’s hard being on the side of the coalition when a hot galra woman is handling the galra canon