#sheith
Dec 14th, one year after the end of the war.
Twitter vld art dump lol
im seeing all the voltron discourse on twitter and i just wanna say that i also know nothing about voltron but i ship sheith
realized i don’t think i’ve shared any of my previews on here for @realitieszine !! I’ve done 6 pages of comic [3 diff comics in collab with 3 amazing fic writers! u can find one preview here], 1 charm, and also contributed to the NSFW zine, the sketchbook, and also the stickersheet stretch goal with my monsters & mana au!
you can pre-order until the 8th @ realitieszine.bigcartel.com
you can see my charm here, and my sticker here.
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sheith backpacking in the mountains with their giant space heater wolf is what gives me life
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Across Realities: A Sheith Anthology
LOG DATE 091119
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Wormhole stabilised: 5 new realities reportedrealitieszine * bigcartel * com
INTO THE VOID
Nervous about the amount of inspiration Shiro’s strength brings to the other prisoners, the Galra promote him to becoming a war dog. On his first and last mission as cannon fodder, Shiro encounters a giant robot piloted by a familiar face.
AO3 LINK | RATED T | 6K | 1/1 | @realitieszine
An AU where Shiro is a diver pirate and his crew makes him walk the plank for keeping the mer he had discovered a secret. Of course this is just a way to lure in Keith where they can catch him.
Commission info ♚ Ko-fi♚twitter
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rated e | 9k | amnesia, cults, action, angst and romance | 11/11
Under the scorching desert sun, Shiro picks up a stranger who saves his life– and claims to know him.
There’s a soft rumble in the distance, and Shiro squints as he looks up. He uses his hand to shield his eyes from the sun and to better see the rapidly-approaching vehicle in the distance. The sun glaring off the metal’s not doing Shiro any favours, but it’s easy for him to make out the sleek black and red body of a motorcycle roaring up the driveway.
Shiro closes the hood of his truck and throws his towel on top of it as the bike pulls into his vicinity. It kicks up clouds of dust on the unpaved road before it makes it onto the asphalt in front of the garage, screeching to a halt ten feet away from where Shiro’s standing. The motorcyclist revs once, twice, three times.
“Can I help you?” Shiro calls out, approaching the motorcycle as the engine’s killed and the driver kicks out the stand.
“Maybe,” comes the reply as gloved hands pull off a helmet, revealing a shock of black hair plastered against a damp forehead.
