Commander Shiro
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The scar on Shiro's face wasn't from a fight, nor was it from an enemy.
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- Part 5 of Dark Shiro Week 2017
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Lance had clawed his way through the Galra military ranks. This was the most important day of his entire existence. He was being assigned to a commander. One of the most ruthless commanders in the Empire. He had to make a good impression.
It would be just his luck that he'd be stricken with the beginnings of a ruthless heat. He knew the suppressants made him sick, but he took them anyway. Anything was better than a fucking stupid heat. He couldn't very well look strong with his heat boring down on his shoulders.
But puking at the feet of your new commander doesn't exactly make you look like a model Galra either...hindsight Lance supposes.
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“Your Highness,” the guard bows deeply, but Lance can see the subtle upturn of his lips even with the way his hair falls in waves in his face, obscuring his expression. Lance snickers.
“Please rise, my good sir,” the prince drawls in an exaggerated posh voice. “What news hath you brought me this fine day?”
The guard’s eyes glint with amusement as he stands to his full height, only a hair taller than the prince himself, his bulky black armour adding to the effect, making him appear even bigger. Lance quivers in his capelet.
“I have come to escort His Highness to the dining room as per His Highness’s request.”
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Tensions have been rising the past year between Altea and the Galra Empire, and Lance somehow found himself lost in the centre of it all. Following the death of his mother, and the worsening illness of his father, Lance was thrust into the complicated political climate between the two kingdoms with little time to prepare. He knew his time to rule would come one day, he just wasn’t expecting it to come so soon.
But when the prince goes missing, leaving a gruesome, bloody mess in his place, all fingers point to his personal Galra guard, Keith.
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Lance's fingers hovered over the talisman, an inch away from brushing against it. His mind went blank as he stared down at the other boy, who stared back at him with wide, questioning eyes that were a startling shade of violet.
The dazed look on the boy’s face transformed into a frown as his breathing quickened. The more his eyes focused on Lance, the more a wild panic started to set into them.
"Who are you?" he asked sharply. It sounded like he'd meant it to come out with more ferocity, but his voice rasped on the words like he hadn't spoken in weeks.
Lance doesn't know where he comes from––only that he was found in a forest on a distant planet when he was an infant, with no sign of his origin except a blue talisman around his neck. Nowadays he's content to travel the universe with his best friend Hunk, scavenging and selling goods. But that all changes when a girl named Pidge hitches a ride with them, and in the same day the trio finds a crashed ship carrying nothing but a boy with no memory of who he is ... and a red talisman that matches Lance's. -
The Rift by aniscribbles, TheSpace_Dragon
Fandoms: Voltron: Legendary Defender, Dragon Age: Inquisition
31 Jul 2017
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After the Conclave blew up in everyone's face, the whole world went to shit. Lance didn't know what to make of it, but there was no way he would join the Inquisition to become their tool. Sure, he could close the rifts now, by some miracle - accident in his humble opinion - and he was doing his best to close them on his own. Trouble was, they were getting worse as time went on. After being tossed by a shade, he was seriously reconsidering doing this by himself. Needless to say, he got lucky that a cute Seeker came to his rescue after getting caught in a dragon's nest; the only problem was that cute Seeker was trying his damnedest to recruit him into the Inquisition.