tags for karma

9

An Anime Rainbow


//only the edits are mine none of the amazing artwork belongs to me all credits go to their respective artists

animes also belong to their respective creators and writers

anonymous asked:

Hi! If you are still doing the micro-fic thing would you be interested in doing a Uliro one? (the promt would be Language if you are interested) Sorry if I bother you but your fic on this pair have dragged me in the rare-pair hell and I have yet to see the show T____T

Yes! Fills from me tend to be platonic, but I do enjoy some Ulaz and Shiro. :3

“I did not know you spoke Galra,” Ulaz says, later.

“A - I’m - not much,” Shiro says, hesitantly. That isn’t the right word. “Very - basic. Simple?”

“A little,” Ulaz corrects, for him. “When did you learn?”

Shiro starts, surprised. Ulaz’s yellow eyes are curious, not cruel.

“The translators did not work in the cells,” Shiro explains. Even that simple sentence sends panic fluttering through him, purple fluorescents flickering past the edges of his peripheral. He swallows, flesh hand gripping metal. “We had to - I learned. Not a lot. Just enough. Did you not know?”

Ulaz’s expression softens immediately into horrified regret.

“I did not,” he says, in careful Galra. His syllables are slow and careful. “I - apologize. I was not aware.”

“It is fine,” Shiro manages. It’s over now. He closes his eyes - purple hallways flash behind his closed lids - and opens them again. Breathes in at the blue lights lining the Altean walls. “I did not - know? Think of it?”

“Remember,” Ulaz prompts softly. The word sounds strange tripping off a Galra tongue.

“I did not remember,” Shiro agrees, and the word nearly chokes him.

Ulaz is quiet for a while. The aqua-blue lights in the hallway pulse ahead of them, warm and calm. The quiet hum of a ship in motion thrums beneath their feet. Allura’s piloting them back to the Olkari, the nearest place with a prayer of fixing the translators or perhaps even providing an upgrade. Shiro’s not holding out hope the repairs will be quick. Even if Slav is still residing with the Olkari where they’d left him, ten thousand years of obsolete machinery won’t be an easy feat to fix.

While Ulaz and the Alteans can communicate neatly via a shared fluency of their mother tongues, the rest of them aren’t as lucky. Pidge is holding up somewhat with her rudimentary Altean; the other Paladins haven’t a hope. Shiro is the nearest thing his friends have to a translator, even if it had taken him the better part of an hour to come to the realization in the first place. (Varga did it for him - the one word he could understand out of Coran and Allura’s first conversation. When Ulaz had repeated the same word in a different tongue - all of a sudden Ulaz’s strange syllables made a heart-stopping sort of sense. Shiro’d had to sit down with it, shocked and sudden. He’d brushed off Keith’s concerned grip to his shoulder - and blurted straight out into the middle of Allura and Ulaz’s argument in fragmented but clear Galra: “how long did you say this would take?”)

Long story short, Shiro’s been at this all day.

“You shared a cell with many others, for a considerable time,” Ulaz explains, slowly. Shiro strains to catch every syllable. “I am not surprised, now, that this would be a gift of yours. How many other languages do you speak?”

“Not fluent,” Shiro warns him. The memories are flickering at the edges of his vision with each new word, each new verb form and sentence structure butchered in his attempts to communicate between Galran and English. He’s exhausted.

“Of course,” Ulaz says, gently. “Could you guess?”

Shiro shakes his head. “Not from - out here. Not from space. My - Altean, it isn’t - Pidge is better. I speak - a handful? From - cell-mates. Pieces. Probably. I am not sure.”

“What about from not ‘out here’?” Ulaz prompts, carefully structuring his question.

Shiro swallows. “From Earth? Mainly two.”

“Two?” Ulaz’s pale eyebrows raise. “Which is your native tongue? Will you - ”

He devolves into a string of new words Shiro can’t follow.

“Slow down,” Shiro says, desperately. This is too much.

Ulaz smiles, calm and reassuring.

“Speak,” he translates, simply. His large hand grips Shiro’s knee, supportive and grounding. Shiro’s panic stills. “Your native tongue. I would wish to hear it.”

“Oh,” Shiro says, gratefully, and makes the mental switch into Japanese.

(send me a prompt and I’ll write a micro-fic! :) not an april fool’s joke, for real!)

KADENA. I haven’t been excited about a ship since Clexa and I’ll be damned if The Bold Type doesn’t get renewed, so please go watch and support the show! It’s on every Tuesday on Freeform at 9/8c. Catch up on Hulu and Freeform website. ✌

Originally posted by my-flourish-and-blotts