desert soap

New Captive Prince Tags

Laurent: small yellow kitten thinks of nothing but murder all day

Damen: overly muscled murder puppy king

Nikandros: mom friend not so secretly wondering if it’s time for new friends

Jord: hufflepuff friend continues to try to defend slytherin bff

Charls: dad at teen girl concert just happy to be included

Vannes: lesbian friend getting shit down and staying in her lane

Jokaste: local super villain just trying to get superhero to ask them out

Erasmus: tiny fluffy woodland creature

Lazar: local frat bro surprised that line actually worked

Nicaise: soap opera character on desert island until plot calls for their return

Pallas: sudden burst of confidence not sure the hell it came from either

Tag yourself

Sheithweek2k16: Scent Marking

This is part of a bigger story I’ve been writing, but I figured this snippet would work well for the Galra!Keith prompt.

Pre-Kerberos

“…eh, uh, Keith?”

“Hmm…?”

“I missed you, too, but what are you doing?”

Keith froze against Shiro’s back, his cheek still pressed against Shiro’s uniform jacket, right between his brother’s shoulder blades. He reluctantly pulled away as Shiro turned, eyeing with more than a little amusement the faint pink twinge that spread across Keith’s cheeks.

Keith shied away from touching in general. Shiro always chalked it up to his upbringing in a group home in Korea, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t indulge his own whims now and again. A hair ruffle, a shoulder bump, and once, even a piggyback ride – he’d found the young cadet passed out from too much training right on the gym floor.

So for Shiro to return home after a three-day mission to the moon to be all but assaulted by a fond Keith was – well, quite pleasant, actually, but also alarming. Keith just didn’t do affection like most people.

“You smell…different,” Keith murmured, his voice unsure but his shoulders pressed back in a rebellious stance. “You…don’t smell…like you should.”

“Like I should?” He shed the jacket, causing Keith to crinkle his nose in disdain. “Are you saying I stink?”

Keith shrugged, obviously uncomfortable, shoulders bunched in his cadet uniform. “You – we – have a distinct scent. You…you don’t smell like it anymore because you’ve been off world.”

Shiro blinked and lifted up his black undershirt to smell it, then leaned forward to sniff Keith, who recoiled slightly. “Okay, so…maybe I have to take a shower, but –”

“That’s not it.”

Shit. Keith used that tone. Something was wrong, and Shiro needed to fix it now before Keith started hissing.

Wait. Hissing? Oh.

Shiro’s mind clawed at the memories of a family cat and what she used do, and the realization rocked him. “Keith…did you scent mark me?”

“No!” Keith immediately snapped. “I just…You usually…I –”

Shiro tried so hard not to laugh, but he ultimately failed. Keith looked so uncomfortable, head drooping, eyes adverted, and Shiro could almost imagine Keith’s ears tugged down, like a drowned and thoroughly disgruntled cat.

“Do I still stink?” Shiro asked.

Keith had crossed his arms and leaned back, definitely unhappy with Shiro’s response. Out of the corner of his mouth, he muttered, “…yes.”

“Then come on, kiddo.” Shiro lifted his arms and flexed his fingers. “Bring it in.”

Keith’s violet eyes flashed, questioning and wondering – was Shiro serious? So Shiro sighed and took a hesitant step forward. Keith immediately took a step back, arms uncurling, mouth opening slightly. Shiro stopped and waited, arms still up, and then a beat later, Keith surrendered.

His shoulder remained tight at first as he wrapped his arms around Shiro’s torso and pressed his face into Shiro’s chest, but then he began to move. Keith burrowed his cheek in Shiro’s shirt, tickling Shiro with his quick strokes. His hands moved up and down Shiro’s back, spreading his unique musk of desert willows, sands, and soap, and Shiro just buried his face in Keith’s mop and let him do as he wished.

Finally, finally, the tension in Keith’s shoulders melted, and he simply unwound in Shiro’s arms, relaxing his head against his brother’s chest.

Shiro chuckled, fond. “Better now, kiddo?”

Keith never sounded so blissful. “Yeah. Welcome home.”

“Good to be home.”

Shiro decided then to hold off telling Keith he’d been cleared for a longer upcoming mission. He couldn’t imagine how Keith would react – or what he’d smell like after nine months in space.