#Lance and Keith looked terribly out of place in Red and Black and there's really no getting around that

[dear-kumari]

It’s kinda odd to see ppl defend Legendary Disaster’s lion swap in 2022.  I get that there were interesting meta reasons behind it but like, we do all remember that “let’s have the paladins match their lions and then switch them all up to match their original 80s placements for the nostalgic appeal” was arguably the genesis for all the worst choices in VLD’s narrative and visual design, right

#Kumari comments #Kumari abuses the tagging system #No shade to people who liked the homage I just think it was an awkward decision that spiraled out into some disastrous storytelling #I guess having an in-universe explanation for the mismatched colors was a cute idea in theory but man did it not work in practice #From a purely aesthetic standpoint it was just plain Bad #and if it'd been planned out properly all the lion cockpits wouldn't have been flooded with a single color #Lance and Keith looked terribly out of place in Red and Black and there's really no getting around that #and all the post-swap discourse basically amounted to 'but when are they gonna swap back tho' bc the expectation to match had been planted #not to mention Everything that went into getting Shiro out of the picture #idk. #sometimes … homages … aren't worth it #If they'd just gone with the original colors/placements from the start and handwaved it as an 'Altean' quirk I could've respected that #it would've felt more like an attempt to respect the sentai tropes from GoLion and less like the producers trying to have it both ways #as-is I just get the impression that they didn't respect the source material /or/ the story they were supposedly trying to tell #It's a lot like the pedantic fuckery in those live-action makes of Disney animated classics ya know? #like 'we want to shamelessly capitalize on your nostalgia but we also need a Logical Reason for xyz fairytale trope' #but perhaps a smidge more earnest bc Voltron isn't/wasn't a huge cash cow on the level of a Disney film #idk. if we're entering a 'VLD was okay actually' era of discourse can someone give me a heads up so I can go scream into a pillow for while? #bc that's not something I wanna be around for

[official-archivist-keith]

Eventually they reach the first town, Lance going off for a walk while Keith sits to watch as he pulls out the tape recorder.

"There is a sickness in this village. Perhaps you would not see it from a distance, and the faint sting of rot on the breeze is easy enough to dismiss. But as you get closer, that infectious feeling of wrongness is harder and harder to shake.

The grass is not the green of nature, the buildings are warped by more than age, and the voices that come from behind the inhabitants’ masks are hoarse and wet.

They move with exaggerated casualness, a parody of idyllic village life. And when they have a break from weeping, they reassure each other how wonderful it is in their village, or at least how wonderful it used to be.

Each is covered from head to toe in thick black fabric, and they never, ever touch.

Take a deep breath.

The air feels thick and soupy in your lungs, swarming with a thousand contagions digging into you, begging for you to join the village:

It’s so quiet there, and everyone cares for each other, far from the din and compacted flesh of the city.

In the center, a maypole stands, mildewed strips of colored cloth hanging limply from it like shreds of ragged skin. The base of the pole is ashen and charred.

The disease itself is nothing special. It begins as a small patch of discolored skin, the tiniest blemish. Scrub it off, and it is gone! For a few hours, at least. But it returns again and again, and begins to spread, a mold with tendrils that burrow deep.

It ranges in color from rancid yellow and corpse-fat white to the dull, angry purple of a fresh bruise. It itches, and burns, and you can feel it growing and spreading inside you, looking for the core of you. At least until it worms its way into your bones.

Beneath the coat of each terrified citizen of this sick village lies a lurking possibility, a nightmarish suspicion of infectious constellations of hungry mildew, a mutating technical atlas of rotten and pockmarked flesh.

But who can know for sure? Their coats are oh, so thick.

There was never a time before the disease, no matter what the old bastards tell you. It has always been in the village, always festered in the dark corners where no one could stomach to check. Where good neighbors wouldn’t dream to speculate.

But those who live here will tell you different. From behind their masks those friendly voices will tell you how it used to be: clean, and hygenic, and always bathed in sepia sunshine. They know in the guts of them this sickness has come from outside, that it is those from beyond the village that have done this to them.

They brought it here, they whisper to each other in the unnamed pub, hunched and bloated over their pale and stinking beers, lifting their masks to take a mouthful, puce faces and frightened sneers exposed for just a moment.

They couldn’t leave us well enough alone. They wanted what we have, our perfect peaceful life, and so they dragged their sickness here and damned us all.

The patrons speak quietly, ‘cause who can say for sure if the face behind a mask is a good, honest village face - or a sickness-bearing harbinger from beyond?

And people do still come to the village, for however thick the paranoia, however terrible the disease, there are worse things beyond.

They are stopped, of course. Beaten and stripped and checked head to toe for any sign of infection. The village council sees to that. Most are uncontaminated, though that does little to save them, while others are already laced right through with fungus of their own.

A few are spared brutality, and treated with such cordial politeness you must have thought their inquisitors old friends. Though there seems on the surface no rhyme to such decisions, were you to look below their coats, you might see the patterns of their mold were matched.

It is, alas, those who are unblemished who suffer worst. So incomprehensible is it that any from outside could be clean, that there might be another source or vector, the inspectors devise another theory: An invisible infection. A hundred Typhoid Marys spreading mildew and decay.

They keep them in the post office, wrapped in chicken wire, prodded and jeered and watched. Should they begin to show signs of the rot, then maybe, just maybe, they can stay for now, though nobody will doubt that it was they brought the illness.

But if they stay clean, if they continue to act like they are better, like they are above the sickness that it is certain that they must have brought to the village, then that cannot be endured. So they are taken to the village green, and the scorch marks at the base of the maypole get darker.

The villagers stand on the green to watch, ignoring the bending of the grass as it tries to worm its way through their boots. They watch the screaming outsider as the fire purifies them, and inside feel the gnawing panic of their own secrets.

For how long ago did they really come to the village? How deep did their roots go? Do any of them truly remember? What if they are an outsider? What if they’re found out?

No. Such fears are to be quashed and swallowed; they must stand strong; they must stand together as one body against the mass of those beyond the village who would see them degraded and destroyed. They cannot allow such secret terrors to break their unity.

And the maypole watches over all.

There is no house in town that has not found itself marked with the red cross of plague, but paint is fleeting and the villagers are so desperate to hide their state. Night still falls here, if only to give those that wish it a chance to try and hide their frantic denials.

As the weak dawn breaks, you may count the doors now painted white, and see who is more conscientious in covering their spongy skin.

The deception is pitiable, and yet deep down every villager knows the mold has marked them deeper than any of the others, and carries it as their most secret shame.

Foremost in their denials are the village council, those loud and hardy souls who have taken it upon themselves to police this place, to safeguard their traditions and denounce the infection that is the right and proper punishment of those who would allow the village borders to be breached, and their ancient way of life to be compromised.

Their masks are blue and red and white, and their coats are the color of fresh ivory, stained sometimes with streaks of crimson from their dutiful ministrations. None would dare accuse them of infection, and to cross them or draw their eye is to invite the strongest diagnosis.

Head of the council is Jillian Smith. Her father’s father’s father’s father’s father built the maypole, carved from a jackalberry tree and painted in the colors of the village. This place is her home and her right and her duty, and woe to any fungus-riddled outsider who might believe it otherwise.

For no one would speak up if Jillian Smith were to mark you infected or declare you foreign. No one would lift a finger as they dragged you to the green.

Her gloves are purest white and never sullied, and they hide a cerulean mold that covers every inch of her, through skin, muscle, and organ, though she has no idea it runs so deep.

By night, she sits in the quiet darkness of her perfect cottage, peeling herself with a straight razor, layer by layer, desperate to reach the pure flesh she is so sure must still be in there, somewhere.

Her living room is the same suffocation blue as the rest of her, every surface piled high with her own discarded bloody skin, and she has no terror deeper than the thought she might be discovered. As she pulls spongy strips free one agonizing fiber at a time, she stares from the window at the house of her neighbor, Mrs Kim.

Mrs Kim is not on the village council. Mrs Kim keeps to herself. And Jillian Smith is certain Mrs Kim is not infected, and hates her for it.

What Mrs Kim is, is scared. Scared of her neighbors, scared of her friends, scared of the moment when someone will smell the spreading patch of darkness on her back, and decide she is infected, or remember she has only been in the village since her grandfather’s day, and judge her to be an outsider.

Should she accuse someone else? Send them to the village green? Perhaps she might petition to join the village council, though that would invite their attention as much as anything might.

Even through the masks, Mrs Kim knows the looks she gets in the pub. But what can she do?

When she hears the shouts outside and sees the smoke pouring from the thatch roof, she knows it is too late.

They drag her to the maypole, their masks hiding the tears of terror and angry shame, and lash her there with those strips of cloth that never seem to burn.

Mrs Kim does not fight, though she screams and screams and screams as all her fears are realized. Jillian Smith tries to smile as she watches her neighbor burn, but the fungus is too thick around her lips, and her face no longer moves.

As the flames consume the last of Mrs Kim in thick and acrid smoke, the mold reaches the bones of Jillian Smith, and she blooms.

In a moment she is swollen, bloated, bursting into a cloud of violet spores that envelop the green and those who dwell there, embracing them in a rot that long since seeped into the soil of this blighted land."

Keith sighs as he finishes, "End recording."

@scp-832

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 210

210

For some reason only known to the lord above, on their bed, “wrapped” with a red ribbon around its handle, was a lawnmower. Blue, silver, and black in colour, this had to be Shiro’s dumb idea. No normal human would gift them a lawnmower at a baby shower, nor would they put it “in bed” like it made any kind of logical sense. It hadn’t been there when Keith opened the windows earlier... if he’d seen it, he would have moved it. Sniffling loudly, Lance then choked out

“They got me a lawnmower! I’m a terrible person!”

Now that he knew Matt had been in their space, he could smell him in the room. Too many scents were in their room. Matt, Curtis, and Shiro, three scents that didn’t belong in their space. Lance gave them pretty much free reign of the house, allowing them to violate the sanctity of his office with the promise they’d never look at his client files, or in the boxes that’d come from Lenny and were currently occupying the spare bed

“Let me take it off the bed, then you sit down and we’ll talk”

Lance shook his head, the way he gazed at their bed hurt to see

“I need the bathroom first...”

“Okay, baby. It’s okay, we’ll sort this out”

Lance came stumbling out the bathroom looking worse than when he’d headed in. Downstairs Rieva had started yelling at Matt for being stupid, then started yelling at Shiro for encouraging Matt to be stupid. Coran had tried to calm her, so she’d yelled at him about how he should understand what Lance was feeling with his nesting instincts and being close to giving birth. There was a whole lot of yelling for a party that had been otherwise running semi-smoothly, provided you didn’t count Pidge feeling a bit down and Shiro and Curtis cremating the sausages on the barbecue, somehow managing to leave the middle red raw.

Waddling over to him, Keith held his arms open, Lance going straight for the hug. Nosing at Lance’s belly, Keith sighed softly as his fiancé started playing with his hair

“You should sit down”

“My stomach feels gross, I want to stand for a bit...”

“You don’t need to hide it. Matt shouldn’t have been in here”

“I know he lives here... but this was supposed to be our alone space... I can smell him... and... and... the windows open and all our smells are gone. Why would he open the window? Why did he have to come in and ruin our room? I don’t go in theirs! Not even to clean! I get they wanted to surprise us but... this is our room! I don’t want the... the smell changing and now it’s being ruined”

With tears dropping on Keith’s hair, Keith tilted his head back to look up at Lance

“I’m... the one who opened the windows. I’m sorry. I was trying to get rid of Lotor’s scent for you. I didn’t think about how comforting scent is when we’re like this. I’m sorry I fucked things up for you”

Lance hiccuped a sob as he tried to bring his crying under control

“You... you didn’t... know... I... I don’t know what to do. This feels... wrong... in here... I can’t... I don’t know how to... how to... fix it... This... was... my safe space...”

Keith got it. Lance’s loved the comfort of blankets before he’d gotten pregnant, with all the instincts running through him, he had to have things a certain way. Despite his fiancé being anal about the dirty washing going in the dirty clothes basket, more than a few of Keith’s shirts had made it between the blankets. Keith also benefited from the space being so thoroughly soaked in their scents. He could smell the difference between Matt’s lingering scent in the halls and his fresh scent in his room. Poor Matt copping the brunt of his silent jealous as he was the only other person in the house that could get Lance pregnant, had his fiancé not already been pregnant. His ego had a hard time accepting Matt near Lance when Lance could pop at any moment. His fear made no logic sense, yet that didn’t mean that did exist

“It’s still our safe place. I’m sorry my brother is incapable of being a normal human, and I’m sorry that he was probably really proud of putting the lawnmower on our bed...”

“I want to laugh at that, it’s a good one and it’s funny, but I feel so angry that I’m not sure I won’t go for blood if we go downstairs... I don’t want to be that way. Not today. They put together a great party for us. I just wanted to be normal enough to enjoy it”

“There’s still plenty of time. We can strip the bed and change out what’s on it. It’ll help to get rid of Lotor’s scent too”

“I know. I know it’s just some sheets and blankets, but...”

“You’re exhausted. I know you are, babe. Let me change the sheets and you can have a bit of a nap. With the amount of alcohol Pidge stocked, I’m pretty sure drinking is on the plans”

“I haven’t thanked anyone... I don’t deserve any of this. Not a barbecue, or an outside set, or a really nice new lawnmower...”

Keith would steal every star in the sky if it made Lance happy

“You do. No one made our friends go out and buy anything. They chose to, and it’s not like it’s just for us. I’m sorry I didn’t get you a present”

“You don’t need to. And I don’t need a fancy ring. You keep your word, babe. That’s all I need”

“Let’s get you to bed. Tonight we’ll make sure to really stink the blankets up”

Lance gave a broken sob of a laugh

“You’d have sex with me, when I look like this?”

“If you haven’t realised by now, all you have to do is breathe and I’m like “I want to tap that”

“You’re going the right way for a smacked arse”

“Promises, promises. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to let you pull my hair as I rail you to the mattress”

“Now who’s making promises?”

“You already said it, I keep my word. Just keep your night open, because I’m not letting you slip away”

*

Lance fought going down for a nap, Keith fought the urge to stay with him, dragging himself from their room and downstairs. Their friends knew better than to let the pair of them disappearing bring the party to a close. Coran was now getting a lesson in beer pong from a ruthless Pidge. Rieva and Matt both seemed saddened, their scents weird as they hit his nose. Allura the first to cast a smile in his direction

“I’m assuming that Lance went down for a nap as you’ve returned alone?”

“Yeah. He needed it. I’ll wake him up in a couple of hours”

Shiro cleared his throat, Allura about to say something else but stopped so Shiro could

“I’m sorry about the lawnmower, we thought it’d be hilarious”

Lance’s obsession with grass was well known, the only way the joke could have been funnier was if they’d dressed the lawnmower in lingerie

“Oh, Lance thinks it’s funny as fuck. He loves it. He’s just super sensitive to scents, and I made it worse by airing out our bedroom. He’ll bounce back and you know he’s going to be apologising when he comes back down. I still don’t know why you guys had to go through our drawers”

Shiro answered for Matt who copped a very direct glare from Keith. Matt couldn’t help being a werewolf any more than Keith could. Both of them cared deeply for Lance, their stupid egos and scents making things ridiculous for the pair of them

“I needed a spanner. We were joking about how being Lance, he’d probably keep on in his room... you know, because he fixes everything the moment he knows somethings broken or leaking”

Keith groaned. That was logical. He wouldn’t be surprised if Lance did. Everyone knew Lance was the handiest person in their group

“Okay. That’s fair. But stay out of our room from now on. This scent thing is really messing with his head. He doesn’t want to be mad, but he’s also emotionally exhausted”

Shiro gave him a mock salute

“Message received loud and clear. Are you staying down here, or headed back up?”

The temptation to go back to Lance was enormous. Helping him strip down to his shirt and underwear, Keith had tucked him with plenty of kisses until Lance finally drifted off to sleep. His fiancé looked so angelic when he was slept, though plenty of people would argue the snoring and drooling ruined the effect

“Nah, he’ll be fine. I’m more interested in who’s winning and who’s idea it was to let Coran face Pidge of all people”

“His. Grab a beer and come sit down”

A beer sounded great... This was a party after all... but he’d been a drunken idiot far too many times with Lance taking care of him. The time had come to be an adult and stick with water for the rest of the party

“Ugh. I wish. I’ll be back in a minute”

Being a fae, they were renown as trickster demons. Keith had never seen Coran this competitive as the tables turned on the game of beer pong. Starting to make trick shots, Pidge was soon swapped out for Curtis, heading down the wrong side of tipsy she tripped and landed in Krolia’s lap, declaring a rematch would be had once she’d sobered up enough not to be yelling into Krolia’s crotch. Curtis put on a valiant effort, making more shots than he missed, yet Coran didn’t show the slightest hint of intoxication. Lance would have been shocked. Keith was shocked. In Coran’s world there was nothing better than a good cup of tea... not copious amounts of alcohol.

There came a gradual shift in the mood of the party. It’d become less of a baby shower and more of a “We need to defeat the demon in Lance’s living room” kind of a deal. Curtis was subbed out, six shots his limit. Coran, on the other hand, didn’t get the game and questioned why his cups weren’t refilled. Matt happy to refill Coran’s cups, not mentioning the aim of the game was to make the loser empty all of theirs. After Curtis came Shiro, who already tipsy from the seems of things, was beaten easily as he failed almost every throw, Coran growing more talkative and prideful in defeating their friends one by one. Finishing the cups in front of him, Shiro flopped over backwards where he sat, Coran frowning at losing his opponent as he asked

“Now what happens?”

Rieva retrieved Shiro, dragging him over to prop him up against the chair near Krolia’s feet. Firmly she brought things to an end. Shiro looked absolutely wasted as he sat there with his eyes closed and a smile playing in his lips. He didn’t even seem to notice when Krolia stuck her bare foot under his nose

“That’s it. All the cups on this side are finished”

“That’s rather disappointing. I really quite like this game of yours. My cups are still quite full. Allura, perhaps you would fancy a game?”

Allura laughed politely. She’d been cheering on their friends, though she had no idea what to cheer over, she’d given it her best shot

“I think I’ve seen quite enough. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you consume so much alcohol”

“Nonsense. This is mere dishwater compared to the stuff we used to drink. Barely made a dent, if I do say so myself”

The man had single handedly taken out Pidge, Curtis and Shiro... and was still up for more? Keith could only shake his head at the thought of a drunk Coran being as rambling as a tired Lance

“Krolia, perhaps...?”

“Nope. I’m driving Curtis and Shiro home tonight. Keith’s got Lance to look after, Hunk has to drive Shay home”

“Then perhaps our Shay would care for a game?”

Shay shook her head

“I’m not going there. You’re a demon, what chance do I stand?”

Coran burst into tears. None of them expected it and no one quite knew what to do, apart from Allura who slipped off the sofa to wrap her arms around him to comfort the fae. They couldn’t help being humans

“There, there. They are human after all”

Coran shook his head, puffing his chest out

“Don’t you see, I won! This means I’m the winner! Oh, I can’t remember the last time I won at something so fun, and on my first try!”

A silent groan fill the room. They’d bowed out, and their plan to take Coran was ruined by the sheer amount of alcohol he could tolerate. Allura clearly forced a smile to her lips, Keith sympathetic as this would surely become another of his stories they’d all be stuck listening to

“Uh, yes. Yes, I suppose it does...”

“Wait! I can still drink!”

Waving her left arm, Pidge pushed herself up with her right hand, then flopped backwards against Krolia

“No I can’t! Where’s Lance?! He could do it!”

Patting her arm, Shay broke the bad news to Pidge

“Lance isn’t allowed to drink, it’s bad for the twins”

Pidge’s eyes narrowed, animatedly she yelled angrily

“That undead arsehole! Lance! You suck! Coran, I demand a rematch!”

Coran’s eyes filled with some kind of excitement. Drunk Pidge wasn’t someone to be messed with, heck, sober Pidge wasn’t someone to mess with but with her moral compass out the window anything was likely to happen

“What do you suggest?”

“Mario! You’re gonna lose so bad! That useless Peach is gonna wipe the floor with you! Hunk, we need Mario! I won’t be happy until he feels the devastation of rainbow bridge!”

Hunk pointed to himself, Pidge nodding, Keith wondered if he should say a prayer for Coran now or later on

“This rainbow bridge sounds most interesting. How do you play?”

Pidge wiggled her fingers at Coran as she laughed, failing at trying some kind of spooky accent

“Very very carefully. No one beats Pidge on the rainbow bridge! You hear me, Lance! I’m coming for you too!”

For all her yelling, a long groan of his name from upstairs told Keith that Lance had finally woken up due to their pint sized big mouth. His fiancé’s timing couldn’t have been better as he needed an excuse to flee the living area. Coran had no idea the fire he’d awoken in Pidge. A sober Pidge with a controller in her hands was bad enough, a drunk Pidge with a controller in her hands was near on demonic. With a healthy fear of what would happen should Pidge lose, Keith opted for the convenient excuse of Lance calling for him. Yeah. Whatever happened, the others would totally take care of it... he was not a coward at all.

Sitting on the edge of their bed, Lance had gotten himself tangled trying to take his shirt off. His fiancé’s expression filled with sadness as he softly asked

“Keith... help?”

“Oh, babe. I’ve got you”

Lance had gotten one arm out, and stuck in head hole bit, too sleepy to escape on his own. Walking over to his fiancé, he dropped a kiss on Lance’s head before taking over getting Lance free of his shirt

“I’m sorry...”

“It’s okay. Is there a reason you were getting naked?”

“Wanna take a shower... I made a mess”

As Lance started crying, Keith hushed him. His fiancé pretty much limp as he got his trapped arm free and then helped him out his shirt

“Okay, mister. Pants next”

“I made a mess”

Messes happened. Lance couldn’t help it

“That’s okay, these things happen. Let’s get you out your underwear. Up we go”

Swaying on his feet, Keith pulled down Lance’s underwear as Lance kept his balance with his hand on Keith’s shoulder. The mess wasn’t what Keith expected. Lance’s underwear sodden with cum, his lover half hard as Keith tried not to stare

“Don’t... look... it’s embarrassing”

“You had a wet dream, no big deal. Was it about me?”

“You’re the one who put sex in my head... I want to take a shower”

“Do you remember what happened?”

Downstairs no longer mattered. Keith’s ego elated that Lance had had a sexy sex dream about them

“Keeeeith... please...”

Taking Lance’s half hard erection, Lance groaned as Keith slowly began to jerk him off

“Tell me what happened in your dream”

“Babe... the party”

“Fuck the party... they can afford to miss us and we really don’t want to go back down there right away”

Shifting position, Keith wrapped his lips around the tip of Lance’s dick, sucking lightly as Lance’s hand flew to his hair

“Keeeith”

Letting his lips slide to meet where his hand was, Keith bobbed his head twice before pulling back

“I want to know what you were dreaming about”

“You...”

“What about me?”

Jerking Lance faster, his fiancé moaned. He knew teasing was bad, yet was too filled with elated ego not to. Letting himself feel pleasure rather than pressing need to shower and return to the party, Lance panted out his words between moans

“I... you... were riding... my dick... I was fucking you”

“Is that what you want to do? Do you want to fuck my mouth?”

“God, yes”

“Then you better do it like you mean it”

Holding Keith’s head to his groin, Lance slowly built up to fucking his mouth. His pregnant fiancé had urges, and it’d been a long while since they’d used the pocket pussy, as they usually couldn’t slow down and stop themselves long enough to think about anything other than getting off. Hallowing his cheeks, Keith had tears in his eyes, Lance filling his mouth perfectly, even if he seemed to be trying to ram his dick down Keith’s throat, despite how bad it’d initially made Keith gag

“Keith... I’m gonna come”

“Nghhffd...”

That was Keith speak for a yes, “while my fiancé’s fucking my face”, Lance easing back enough to give space to Keith as cum flooded his mouth, then dribbled down his chin as he tried to swallow as much as he could. The vampire coming with a low growl as his fingertips scratched Keith’s scalp.

As Lance’s knees gave out, Keith caught him by the hips, pushing him so “fell” sitting on their bed. His lover’s chest heaved, as he brought his breathing back under control, Keith wiping Lance off his face with the back of his hand

“You looked wrecked... and we didn’t even do the do”

He was horny, nearly coming in his pants from blowing Lance. Lance would fall back to sleep if they had sex now. Plus he’d be overly sensitive from coming twice

“You seemed pretty into it”

“I was very into it, now I’m very into going for a shower... want me to return the favour”

A million times yes!

“Nah, it’s fine. That was kind of hot”

“Your mouth was kind of hot... I did try to tell you I was coming”

“The meal was delicious. Am I as good as you dreamt?”

Bringing a hand up, Lance rubbed at his stomach. They’d made about as much mess as what Lance had woken up in... whoops

“Way better in real life... God, I feel fat. Help me up?”

“You’re not fat”

“Are you sure? I feel like I just ran a marathon”

“Babe, you’re in great shape. Round is a shape”

Lance kicked him lightly in the leg for his teasing

“I know how round I am, I don’t need a reminder”

“I’m just saying... You’re a very round little vampire. I wonder how chubby your bat form would be”

“Well don’t... I can’t believe I let you blow me when we should be downstairs entertaining our guests”

“Well I can’t believe it’s not butter”

His lame joke earned him a sigh from his fiancé

“That was terrible. You should feel bad”

“I do. I also feel like bending you over our bed and fucking you senseless, but you’re right, we have a party to get back to”

Lance opened and shut his mouth, cheeks flushed as he looked away from Keith

“I suppose a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt”

God. If only Lance knew how much he wanted to take him up on that offer. He probably should be putting himself in a horny mutt time out, but it’d been sooooo long since he’d had Lance beneath him. His dick was definitely up for it... Time to adult again

“It’s okay, babe, I’m joking. Besides, you’re going to need whatever energy you have left to keep the peace downstairs. Pidge challenged Coran to rainbow bridge”

“Damn. I go down for a nap and miss all the excitement...”

“He also got Shiro, Curtis and Pidge all like drunk by winning beer pong. So it’s drunk Pidge taking on Demon Coran”

Lance groaned

“My poor living room. It’ll never be the same again”

“Nope. Come on, you can lament the loss of your living room in the shower, then maybe we can wrap this party up and go to bed early”

Keith was weak and Lance’s arse was glorious. He’d been going to behave himself, he really had... then he’d been sidetracked. Sitting on the toilet, he told himself he making sure Lance didn’t slip... not ogling his gorgeous fiancé. One thing lead to another and then suddenly he had Lance bent over the bathroom counter, lasting all of a minute. It was quick quickie, even for them. Lance’s arse too cute not to touch, his lover’s opening soft and puffy beneath his fingers when he’d been supposed to help Lance dry off properly. Whoops... Keith tried to feel bad but the strength and warmth of their bond left him smiling like an idiot. He really did deserve a cone of shame around his neck, Lance’s boobs the perfect handful as he lost himself. Nobody pregnant had the right to be as perfect as his mate. His belly so gravid Lance looked as if he had a whole soccer team inside him. Keith definitely knew he had a kink for his very pregnant fiancé, he just didn’t know how to knock said kink on the head. Lance limping as he led him back into their room to get him dressed, Keith promising to clean their cum off the bathroom cabinet and floor before Lance realised he’d only cleaned him up.

Lance insisted on looking “presentable” as Keith helped him into his clothes. Keith annoyed at how many buttons there were that’d he have to undo later to get his vampire naked again. Wisely he kept this to himself. Lance would have smacked if he’d known his mind was still in the gutter after fucking his arse with as much force and need as Lance had fucked his mouth. Maybe he should try bottoming again? The weight of Lance’s stomach hanging low must have been uncomfortable as it’d taken a bit to bring Lance to orgasm, despite his hips having a life of their own. Stealing a few extra moments, Keith wrapped his arm around Lance, dropping kisses to the top of his head as Lance chuckled at him for it. He loved Lance. A good solid dose of cuddles from his fiancé was just the thing he needed before they headed back down to face their friends.

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose

[ravenvsfox]

klance holodeck fic 1/2

Lance is gone. Lost in the plunging gaps between astral bodies, sewn into an invisible seam in spacetime. Missing, for two long years. It’s impossible, to think of the time he's already lost with him. Time passes strangely in a war, and stranger still in space. Stars gasp their dying breaths and ripe dust clouds give birth to whole planetary systems. Some light reaches them with its centuries-old fingers and some can’t weather the journey. So many beings shiver and die. Lance would be twenty now. He tries not to think about it.

Keith can't bring himself to grieve when he knows Lance is still out there. Instead, he follows versions of him down holographic rabbit holes, trying to pry closure out of his memories, and losing himself to an obsession with the simulated landscapes where Lance was never lost.

(Read on AO3)

At first, it’s a french restaurant.

Slate grey and stationery white, sunlight drooping over the tablecloths like curling petals on calla lilies. Keith presses the knot of his tie into the hollow of his throat and swallows against his fingers. The get-up is ridiculous—grey suit, red tie, cufflinks, Italian leather shoes.

He’s never worn anything so expensive or well-tailored in his life, and he can already picture the precise geometry of Lance’s expression when he sees him: badly suppressed smile, like a slipped disc, his cheeks puckered.

Keith seats himself next to the window, fiddling almost immediately with the circlet of his napkin ring. The trees outside rustle and drizzle shade over buskers and vendors across the street. His designer watch has both hands folded over the twelve. A waiter breezes past and lays a rectangle of cardstock in front of him, smiling conspiratorially. As soon as he’s out of view, Keith has forgotten his face.

He looks at the menu, and the transition from the burbling restaurant to the cramped typeface is disorienting, like a cut scene in a video game. When he puts the menu down again, his head is swimming sickly with words like bordelaise and remoulade. And then, like a sweet apparition from a terrible dream, Lance drifts through the doorway.

For a moment, the sight of him is impossibly painful.

Keith’s fingers go again to the knot of his tie, and he makes an involuntary noise, gulping air as if surfacing from extreme physical exertion.

“Lance,” he chokes.

Lance smiles, quicksilver. “Hello.”

“You’re here,” Keith says, staggering to his feet. He crosses the bistro to take Lance bracingly by the wrists. The napkin holder is still in his hand, and the circle of it presses into Lance’s forearm so tightly that his skin bulges through it a little. “Do you—do you know where you’ve been?”

Lance should be defensive, or sly, or angry, or bashful. He should be telling a story that Keith can barely follow at a pitch that he can barely stomach, bragging about all the stupid things and downplaying all the impressive things.

Keith knows that’s not how this works, but still. It’s the Lance he knows.

He focuses on the brittle warmth of his body, the details that are just right. His heart breathes into the paper bag of his chest.

Lance just keeps smiling wanly. His hair is styled wrong—there’s too much volume, and it swoops down too close to one eye. His tie is robin’s egg blue. “No need to get up for little old me.”

Keith shakes his head, off-balance. “What?”

“I’m here to spend time with you! Why don’t we take a seat?”

Keith swallows painfully. It’s like looking at an animatronic figure of his friend—a jolting uncanny robot at an amusement park. “Lance, look at me.”

“How could I not?” he says cheekily, and winks. But his eyes haven’t quite settled into the same groove as Keith’s.

“Tell me—“ Keith starts. “Tell me what you remember. Tell me who you are.”

“Oh, you know me,” he says. “Name’s Lance ‘Loverboy’ McClain, blue paladin, sharpshooter extraordinaire, and defender of the universe.”

“Please.” It’s meant to be derisive, but it ends up falling somewhere closer to desperate. His hands slide up from Lance’s forearms to his shoulders. The napkin ring clatters pointedly to the floor. In a wide, embarrassing moment of weakness, Keith says, “you have to--be him. At least try.”

Lance chuckles.

Keith shakes him, and his shoulders jitter unnaturally.

“Come on. What’s the point if you can’t even act like him? Who would fucking buy this?”

“I don’t—“

“Stop using his voice,” he warns. His hands have crept up to Lance’s neck, and abruptly he lets go, repulsed at the almost-familiar feel of him.

“I would also be pretty overwhelmed to meet an intergalactic celebrity,” Lance assures him.

He’s starting to breathe too fast. He keeps seeing the real Lance—craned into the three-dimensional spread of a star map, brow furrowed, freckled hand curled loosely in the handle of whatever hot drink he found planet-side—superimposed over this stranger’s weird, unblemished face.

“Who am I?” Keith demands.

Lance grins. “My date.”

Keith pushes him hard in the chest. He nearly topples into a neighbouring table, and it’s unlikely, how he keeps his gangly legs underneath his body.

“Easy, sweetheart,” Lance says. “This isn’t the place for roughhousing.”

It’s the wrong cadence, but it’s so like something Lance would say that it’s debilitating. Keith stumbles through the momentum of another graceless shove.

“I told you to stop using his voice,” Keith snaps. “This is cruel.”

“Didn’t you want to meet me here?” Lance asks innocently.

“Of course I did. But you’re not—not—” Suddenly, he’s so fatigued with disappointment that he can’t speak.

After a long moment, he feels an ephemeral hand on his shoulder. And with the help of the ghostly waitstaff, the false Lance maneuvers him back to his place at the table. “Just tell me where to look and I’ll go there,” Keith begs, half-stumbling, half-dragged into his seat. “I swear. I know I can find you, I’ve faced bad odds before.”

“How about a drink?” Lance is saying, apparently unfazed.

“I thought that if you thought like Lance, maybe I could talk an answer out of you,” Keith says. Lance cocks his head, pleasantly receptive. “But really I thought I would look at you and I would feel better. Or at least I would feel angry. But you’re worse than a punching bag.”

“Red?” Lance says, and Keith’s heart is—airborne.

“What?” he asks sharply.

“Wine,” Lance explains. “Red or white?”

His whole body caves in. Rockslide. Catastrophic. He looks into Lance’s wide, earnest eyes, feeling uncomfortably like he’s levelling a shotgun at a newborn. “Neither. End simulation.”

The bistro melts instantly into the oily blackness of the Paladin Simulator.

His jaw is clamped tightly with shame and grief, and as the dark presses in, he folds his arms self-consciously over his chest. He’s ending his session an hour early, and he’s grateful, now, for the uninterrupted quiet.

He shouldn’t have let himself do this.

It should have been obvious what a bad idea it was when he didn’t tell any of the other paladins what he was planning; he was already falling back into his old, knee-jerk isolation, trusting only himself with his secrets.

He just couldn’t take any more of their pity. It was constant, wide-eyed, confused—why would the person who got along with Lance the least feel his absence the most? Sometimes, Hunk looked at Keith exactly the same way he looked at an old clunker of an engine that was in need of replacing.

Keith had heard tell of the simulators years ago, they all had. Liberated planets with the tech (and the admiration) had started building little cyber shrines to Voltron. Like a hyper-advanced arcade game, you could plug in your specifications, step into the simulator, and play out your wildest fantasies.

He’d gathered that tittering fans, unexceptional nerdy types, and bright-eyed kids were the most common customers; the lettering on the swinging board out front promised all kinds of adventure and celebrity:

Join Voltron! Become one of the gang, fighting Galra scum and saving the galaxy from tyranny!

Enjoy a candlelit dinner with the paladin of your choice, and get up close and personal with your hero!

Pick up your very own bayard, and spar with living combat legends! Who will win?!

Although it’s more advanced than the training room controls on the castle of lions, the programming still has its limits. The likenesses aren’t really supposed to stand up to the scrutiny of someone like, say, a paladin himself, but the experience is still sensory, impossible, the science fiction daydream of someone on Earth.

Lance used to love the idea of it, joking that it was the Star Trek filler episode he always wanted. He said he would win every game, romance himself, and beat up holo-Keith without feeling bad about it. He said he could finally stop pulling punches when Keith was just, like, light particles and shit.

In his grief, Keith convinced himself it was right and just and necessary to believe in a false lead. He told himself that the coat rack in the dark looked enough like a person that maybe he could hang all his hopes on it.

And so he had sought out the small, ever-bright planet of Seachmall, where night lasted for twilit months, and massive outdoor markets boasted every good and service you could possibly think of. Continent to continent there were melting, zipping lights, sky-high neon encircling tall buildings like bangles, and criss-crossing lanterns—buoyant in the low gravity—coasting up towards their celestial cousins.

In the capital, the local population joyfully shared liquor and arm-clasping greetings, speaking in the fast creole dialect of a port city, dancing to reality-bending music that haunts every forking path in a dizzying labyrinth of market stalls. Every single day on Seachmall was a feverish, luminous midnight that raged unceasingly past its breaking point.

And every step in the springy too-dark soil, every halting conversation in common, every sizzling technological spectacle that borders on nightmarish, Keith thought that Lance would have eaten this experience alive.

But Lance is gone.

Lost in the plunging gaps between astral bodies, sewn into an invisible seam in spacetime. Missing, for two long years.

It’s impossible, to think of the time he's already lost with him. Time passes strangely in a war, and stranger still in space. Stars gasp their dying breaths and ripe dust clouds give birth to whole planetary systems. Some light reaches them with its centuries-old fingers and some can’t weather the journey. So many beings shiver and die. Lance would be twenty now. He tries not to think about it.

Often, he resents those years he spent on a space whale, cresting out of his teenage years faster than he could track, trying to staunch the flow of memories with the paladins before he lost them all. He gets double vision looking at his mother, thinking of what he knows about love and struggling to apply it to this stranger.

When Lance disappeared just months after Keith returned to the castle of lions, he understood, finally, that loss is the bitter shrapnel of love.

In an alternate universe, Keith would have threaded Lance’s difficult needle, held his jaw, sharp and slight as a paring knife, and told him every wriggling, guilty, breathless feeling he’s inspired in him since they were sixteen.

In that universe, he stepped out of the time warp and into Lance’s embrace, and they were never parted again.

But that’s not what happened. Instead, Pidge started to refer to Lance in the past tense. Allura took over piloting Blue full-time, and Keith Red. The castle, already barren with the loss of Altea, became even more eerily quiet. Keith’s guilt swelled up and took any of their remaining teamwork hostage.

Space is so massively large and radiantly indifferent, but Lance is out there, surely, or Keith would have felt Voltron’s current being disrupted, as it had been when Shiro blinked out of the Black lion. But time stretched on, and he felt nothing at all.

When Lance disappeared it was from the middle of a battle for a nothing quadrant of space, and he was practically teleported out of the fray. They recovered his lion on a smalltime Galra ship within the hour, no sign of a struggle, no sign of Lance.

It was eery. Impossible. They interrogated sentries and hacked systems, combed entire light years of space using Allura’s wormholes. They waited for a distress signal, an apology, a triumphant return. But he just—vanished.

Keith ripped through the galaxy for any scrap of him, a blue flash, those bright ringlets of laughter, the flush of his skin tone in a kaleidoscope of different species.

Allura and Shiro joined him on the ground at first; Pidge, Coran, and Matt worked tirelessly to devise a tracking system, while Hunk took Red apart, hoping to unlock the moment that she and Lance had detached—but it was like her memory had been wiped clean. All they could feel was the panicked thrum of her loose bond with Lance, Keith more than anyone.

Romelle and Krolia hadn’t known Lance for long, but they always came when called. More bodies in the search party, more hands in the alliance. Once, he caught Romelle’s lip wobbling during a debrief, and he remembered the way that Lance had dragged an extra chair in for her first team meeting, winking, and then laughing himself to stitches when Romelle tried to wink back and couldn’t.

In pieces, Keith understood that he loved Lance, and as always, he was processing an obvious truth too late. His grief was swollen purple, and even as he told himself that no one would ever, ever understand, he knew they did. All around him they did, loudly and at length, hurting at such a frequency that Keith was scared it would drown out Lance’s return.

He left the castle of lions more frequently, turning over whole populations, infiltrating Galra ship after Galra ship, singularly driven—but also callous and unbalanced without his team, participating in more violence in six months than he had in five years of war and survival.

Once, Keith stumbled into Lance’s abandoned room and pulled clothes and trinkets out of his closet, stirring up the smell of him and crying like a child. He picked fights with his mother, because she had been a terrible absence once, too. In the artificial light of castle dawn, he sparred more than his body could sustain, and when he found a planet full of unmarked tombstones in his search, he ripped at the ground with his bare hands until his fingernails tore.

The longer he looked, the more he found that the whole universe was exquisite with death, every piece of it burnt out and drifting into expanding blackness. He was so tired of feeling like space rock himself, fast, deadly, and aimless, waiting to burn up in the atmosphere somewhere. So, heart striving ahead of his body like an eager dog, pockets full of tokens, he wandered Seachmall until he found the flashy booth where he would waste the next eight months of his life.

He leaves the simulated french restaurant that first time fully believing that he’ll never be so weak again, but it’s barely twenty vargas before he’s back, trembling all over.

He finds Lance in a simulation of battle, and in the rush, it’s much easier to forget that he’s a fake.

“Not this time, amigo,” Lance crows, looping around an enemy ship and blasting ice the whole time, showing off. Keith is shocked to find a smile bruising his own face. His hands close over fake-Red’s controls. It’s so strange, not feeling her at all while he’s piloting. It’s as impersonal as a Garrison sim, but eons more advanced, nearly authentic. He can feel the heat of battle through Red’s visor, and as always, his calloused thumbs creak against the wheel when he turns too sharply.

“On your right,” Keith warns.

Lance dodges dutifully. “Thanks!”

I know, Lance groans, in his memory. I’m out here flying too, Keith, this isn’t one of those drills where I’m fucking blindfolded—

“Red Paladin,” Allura’s voice cries, weirdly high and operatic. “The evil lord Zarkon is moving in for the kill. You must help us form Voltron!”

“Yeah, right,” he huffs.

The forming itself is so stupid, obviously programmed by an outside observer who’s never felt the itch of unity, the reverse detonation of an impossible bomb, where every scattered thing fits back together to be whole again.

There’s a silly bit of choreography, and fake-Red goes on rails, like a carnival ride. And then, without feeling anything concrete, Voltron pulls in around him.

“Hooray!” Pidge says, sounding like a munchkin from The Wizard of Oz.

“Nothing can stop us now!” Shiro says, sounding like Shiro.

“Can we get back to putting Zarkon in a second grave now, please?” Keith says.

“Always the fighter, Red,” Lance says. Keith blinks.

“I love you,” he blurts.

“Aw,” Hunk says. “I love you guys too.”

“Lance—“

“Use your sword? Exactly what I was thinking,” Lance says.

“Let’s do it,” Shiro says. “Use your bayard, Red.”

“I know,” Keith snaps.

It’s obvious that the simulation has programmed Red in as shorthand for whatever player is in his spot. It would be the same no matter what lion was chosen, but hearing Lance’s nickname for him out of Shiro’s mouth is just—stunningly wrong.

The world trembles from the impact of a Galra bogey, uncomfortably real, and his instincts press him into action.

He turns his bayard in its slot, and the sword shimmers into reality. He watches at a remove as Voltron slices at Zarkon’s craft.

It’s actually starting to get to him, the memory of this battle, the reality of which was a lot more challenging, and much, much uglier. He remembers his frenetic pulse in his fingertips, the threat pressing endlessly past their defences, the damage to Green’s hull, and the awful discovery of Black’s empty cockpit afterwards.

He shudders.

“End simulation.”

In the dark, the adrenaline eases its panicked hands from his throat. You’re alive, he reminds himself. You survived. So did Shiro. So will Lance.

______

The next day, he goes back again.

He spars with himself, out of curiosity, and then with Shiro and Lance, but the holo-paladins are uninspired, easily blocked, programmed to strut and preen through choreography more than they are to improvise and adapt. Lance doesn’t play dirty even once, and Keith shuts down the simulation again, gutted. He wishes there were different difficulty levels, like the bots in the castle. You could program almost anything into—

He stops, midway back to his cruiser, the braid of market-goers loosening around him.

He taps twice on his communicator, and hastily opens a channel with Pidge.

After the long, peculiar swish of the line connecting, she answers, “‘sup?”

“I need you to do something for me.”

“Urgently?” she asks, distracted. He can hear the clatter of keys and the beep and whir of her latest project.

“It’s about Lance.”

The clatter stops. She doesn’t speak for long enough that Keith feels truly bad about himself. And then, “well Jesus, Keith. Isn’t it always?”

He breathes out. “How comfortable are you with the holodeck interface?”

“Very,” she says, no hesitation.

“And do you still have those files from a couple of deca-phoebes ago? That user profile thing you tried to instate, the uh—“ he dodges a Seachmallian waving a kebab in his direction.

“Yes, Keith,” Pidge drawls. “What, do you think I burn data when my projects don’t pan out?”

He shrugs, though she can’t see him. “I would.”

“Forgot who I was talking to,” she says flatly. He’s paused at the ice-cold entrance of a shop selling edible soap bubbles, light and iridescent.

“Do you think you could put together a—a simulation, compatible with a more advanced operating system?”

There’s a throb of silence. “What exactly are you asking me to do, here?”

He closes his eyes, still ducked under the awning of the store, feeling the cold move through him. “Don’t make me say it.”

“You want Lance,” she says. “On a fucking USB.”

“I want to find him,” he growls. “Remember when you wanted that too?”

“That’s low,” she says, deadly. “I’m not the one who’s trying to sleep with a hologram of my dead friend so I don’t have to grieve him.”

He cuts off communication. He feels feverish with embarrassment, and completely sick to his stomach. Candy bubbles breeze past him, over the apron of the booth across the way, which is advertising robot fights—both in Seachmallian and blocky common.

He remembers Lance, a lifetime ago, saying, when I go, I want all the stuff in my brain stored in a giant ship.

His comms ding, and he jabs the accept button on his wrist.

“Fuck you,” he says.

“I’m sorry,” Pidge says. “I don’t know why I said that.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” he says fiercely.

“I know.”

“I just need to know if it was premeditated, if he ever had a safe house or a code in case we got separated, something we could look for.”

“It’s not the worst idea,” Pidge says thoughtfully.

“I know.”

“But I do think it’s a pretty terrible idea for you to do it.”

He grits his teeth, upset in a directionless kind of way. “I can handle it.”

“I know you’re on Seachmall,” Pidge says, “and I already thought that was going to get pretty gnarly. All they’ve got is, like, the mythology of us. Can you imagine what the information in the Altean databases could do to that kind of tactile VR experience?”

“Sort of,” Keith says.

“It would be like if all the OG broadway actors showed up to participate in a high school production of Cats, comprende?”

“No,” Keith says, waspish. “Less.”

“It’s the next step for Altean hologram technology for sure. It would probably revolutionize AI. It’s also not real, Keith.”

“I don’t need it to be real,” Keith snaps. “I need a lead.”

“Well,” Pidge says slowly. “You know I can do it. Can you wait a few quintants?”

He sets his jaw, and against the deep blue horizon, a billboard gleams so brilliantly yellow that for a moment, he thinks it’s the sun.

“As long as it takes.”

______

Keith meets Pidge when she touches down on Seachmall, windswept and gaunt, and although he doesn’t really understand what she intends to do, he dutifully distracts security as she futzes with the control panel.

It’s barely fifteen minutes before she beckons him into the alley adjacent to the simulator room, a sample platter of bolts and wires spread out around her knees.

“Alright chief, it should be compatible, now.” She pulls a stray length of cable from where she’s been holding it between her teeth and pockets it. The little nib of her ponytail bobs as she stands.

“So it’ll be him this time?”

“I mean, almost exactly. I programmed his profile into the grooves set into the existing simulation, but I softened the edges a little so he’s not too self aware. I don’t want him realizing he’s a projection, I’m not that cruel.”

“Right,” Keith says, uncomfortable.

“If you don’t find what you’re looking for and you have to go back in, all you’ve gotta do is punch in this code.” She jabs him in the chest with a folded piece of card, as close to paper as they’ve been able to find out here, and twice as durable. She could have sent him the info, but they both know this transaction is better left under the table. “The system should wipe itself automatically when you’re done. And Keith—“ Her hand flattens on his dark chestplate, and her eyes are troubled. “Please don’t forget why you’re doing this.”

He nods, and puts a gloved hand over hers. “I won’t. I’ll figure this out, and I’ll find him.”

She nods back, a wobbly smile rolling over on her face.

“Okay,” she says. “Okay, I gotta go. I can’t—I wish I could see him, but.”

“Yeah,” Keith agrees sadly.

She smiles again, fleeting, and gathers her kit. “We can’t spare another paladin,” she says, quickly, like it doesn’t matter. “Don’t get lost in there.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but she’s already putting her visor down, and walking out into the crowd.

______

This time, he finds himself on a boardwalk during a powder pink sunset. The air smells blisteringly of salt and roasting meat, and faceless people mill over the beach: parents holding hands with kids, couples sharing shaved ice, a galloping golden retriever in a red bandana.

The leftover scorch of the day blows in off the coast to meet him, like the wave from an open oven door.

He walks purposefully onto the sandbar, craning in circles, trying to catch a glimpse of a familiar face. He feels—pre-heartbroken, caught in the final moments of a long walk to an open casket.

“Where’ve you been?”

He whips around, and Lance is pulling one earbud out, squinting into the sun at him.

“Lance?” he asks, through what feels like a mouth full of marbles.

“Uh-huh,” he says, eyebrow quirked. “The one and only.” He settles back into the shade of his umbrella.

Keith shakes his head to clear it. There’s a red and white striped towel set out next to Lance’s, and he sinks down onto it, overcome. Is this Earth? Did Pidge program this specifically? Is it one of the date settings on the simulator? He can’t remember. He can’t see past the illusion at all.

Lance offers him an earbud. “Come on, Red, will you relax? Pretend you’re not the kind of person who sleeps with a knife under your pillow.” He accepts the bud, numb, and tucks it in his ear. He’s expecting synth pop, but it’s an old R&B song, smoky and familiar. “No overthinking on the beach.”

He can’t stop looking at him. It’s uncanny—the dusky chapped lips, the mole next to his mouth, the cowlick over his ear. His eyes are intelligent, laser-focused on Keith. “Where are we?”

“Dear sweet Keith. Senile at age twenty. So sad.”

“Shut up.” He has to look away, to mask the full-colour magazine spread of conflicted feelings on his face. It all feels a bit like a lucid dream that he shouldn’t jostle too hard. “I’m not used to this.”

Lance’s expression softens. “Hey man, I get it. Being home is weird. Sometimes it’s like—I can’t even remember how we got here.” He shakes his head. “But also I’m so happy to be back, I’m like—screw PTSD.”

His chest aches, badly. “I don’t think it works like that.”

“Rich coming from you, Mr. repression,” Lance says, rolling his eyes.

“I’m not doing that any more,” Keith says. “I’m working through my shit.”

“How admirable.” His mouth twitches. He produces a Palm Bay from his slouchy little backpack, tossing it from hand to hand as if testing its heft. “I’m drowning my sorrows in coolers, personally.”

And then he lunges, spritzing the can open in Keith’s face.

“Jesus, Lance,” he sputters, smacking it out of his hand. They scuffle, briefly, and that helpless, ebullient laugh blows past him like candy bubbles.

“Your—face—“

“You’re so immature—“

“Easy, cowboy, don’t you remember what team bonding looks like?” He pinches Keith’s cheek teasingly, and Keith grabs his wrist.

A pulse flutters under his fingertips.

He scrambles backwards, clothes dragging against the sand, a stray sandal popping off. The heat and grit is so real. If he focuses hard enough on the smell of meat coming off the boardwalk, his mouth waters. Lance looks at him incredulously.

“What? That’s too far for you? I barely touched you!”

“You touched me,” Keith repeats. He can still feel that pulse, like a second heart in his own body. He stands up, shedding sand, and Lance looks up at him, mild expression tinted with hurt. Keith sways, sidelined by a wave of vertigo. He can’t be here right now. “End—“

“You’re being so weird. Like Kuron all over again.”

He stops. “You think I’m a clone?”

“Obviously not really,” Lance says, getting up on his knees. “But that is the level of weird we’re dealing with here. You’re looking at me like you’re about to cry.”

“It’s just—home.” He gestures awkwardly. “Tandem bikes. Coconut sunscreen. Seagulls eating fries out of the trash. The ocean. Earth reminds me of you.”

"Birds eating garbage reminds you of me?" Lance quirks a skeptical expression at him. “Maybe you are working through some shit.”

He reaches for his abandoned sandal, dusting sticky sand from the straps. “You can’t even imagine.”

“Try me.”

Keith looks across at Lance’s calm, determined face, and the words rise up in him like a groundswell.

“I know I haven’t earned it, and I know it doesn’t make sense to you, but I miss how things used to be. And the worse everything gets the more I keep wondering what you would say, or do, and I hate that—god,” he breaks off, and presses his palms briefly to his eyes. “I mean, you would’ve had no way of knowing how I felt. I didn’t even know. But I should’ve—I just thought we would have more time after the war, or I would die and it wouldn’t matter. And I guess I assumed you were always going to be there, because you always were, even when I didn’t want you to be, and now—I don’t know, Lance, I don't know how I’m supposed to go to the castle, or pilot Red, or look at the planet I grew up on without remembering how much you loved it, and how much I love you—“

“Keith, what?” Lance says, alarmed. “You’re freaking me out.”

“Where are you?” he frets.

“I’m here.” He crawls closer, but Keith can't look at him. He watches the fussy waves coming in off the shore instead. “I’m right here.” He rests his hands on Keith’s ankles, and he has to steady himself on Lance’s shoulders when his knees go loose. “Man, I shouldn’t have joked about PTSD. I mean, I feel like this sometimes too.”

Keith looks down into his face. “What?”

“You know, like I’m back there. Like—time doesn’t even exist. Being off-planet was such a bitch sometimes. You feel like you can disappear in all that open space. And sometimes you want to.”

“Lance,” Keith whispers. “You wanted to disappear?”

“Yeah, sometimes,” Lance says, serene. “Just for a while. Let someone else defend the universe for a bit, preferably an adult. Hey, don’t look at me like that, I didn’t do it!”

“You would have told us,” Keith says, through bloodless lips.

“Sure,” Lance offers.

“No. No. You would’ve said something.”

Lance takes his hands away uncertainly.

“I wouldn’t have done it,” he says flatly. “I’m just telling you that I understand being pissed off, and I understand wanting to—hit pause.”

“What about hitting stop?” Keith asks. “What about disappearing so thoroughly that whole galaxies full of alien technology can’t find you?”

Lance’s face is a spinning wheel; he cycles through all manner of confusion, impatience, and worry before settling on defensiveness. “What the fuck are you talking about? Are you out of your mind?”

“If I am, it’s your fault,” Keith snaps. “How could you leave us?”

“How could I leave?” There’s no question now, that this is data from his Lance. His tetchy, self-conscious anger is unmistakeable. “You’re the one who ditched us for the Blades right when we were at a tipping point. You’re the one who wadded two years up and threw them in the trash. You didn’t have to care about us but you absolutely should’ve talked to us. We were a team.”

“You think I don’t care about you?” Keith laughs. “That’s fucking hilarious.”

“I’m really laughing,” Lance says sarcastically. “I don’t know what sort of crazy pills you took that made you think that I’m the deserter out of the two of us. I wish I could be that delusional. I may have wanted out once or twice, but I would never, ever leave the people who need me.” He’s fuming, and the wind is blowing through his curls like it’s trying to placate him.

Keith’s anger wobbles. It hurts, to hear Lance talking this way after so long. It’s not the reunion they deserve.

“I know. I know that.”

Lance sits back on Keith’s towel, frowning. He brushes the drained cooler away, and the remnant dribbles out and darkens the sand. “I don’t know why you always have to ruin everything.”

Keith’s throat aches, and he crosses his arms protectively over his chest.

“Me neither.”

Lance glances up, surprised. And then his gaze slides purposefully beyond Keith, considering. After a moment something comes over him, and his whole demeanour changes. “Keith,” he says softly. “Did you say you loved me?”

Keith screws his eyes shut. After a moment he hears Lance moving closer, reaching out, fingertips barely grazing the back of his hand—

“End simulation. Please.”

He crouches in the dark. “Please.”

______

“Oh, fuck you,” Lance crows. He ducks out from under Keith’s staff, and then grabs the end of it, using the momentum to slide through Keith’s wide stance.

He spins around, and Lance is five feet away, holding his own staff up to his eye like a sniper rifle.

“Bang,” he says.

“This is close combat,” Keith reminds him. He throws his weapon like a spear at Lance’s ankle, and he yelps when it makes contact.

“How is that close combat? You javelin wielding motherfucker. You should be disqualified, and jailed for your crimes.”

He watches Lance shake out his foot like it really hurts, testing his weight and pretending to stumble, falling forward—and then whirling around in time to clash staffs with Keith.

“Shit,” Lance laughs, up close, hot with exertion, putting the pressure of his body weight on the cross they’ve made between them. “Thought I had you.”

“Do you want to surrender?”

“Do you want to kiss my ass?” Lance retorts.

Keith steps out of the way, and Lance’s momentum sends him tumbling head-first to the floor.

“Sure,” he says coolly. “Turn over.”

“What the hell,” Lance says, rolling onto his knees, flustered.

“You lost.”

“Yeah, whatever, like six to five.”

“Six to four,” Keith corrects, and offers him his hand. Lance pretends to spit into it, then flops back onto his hands instead.

“If we were duelling with pistols, I would humiliate you. You would have to drop out of Voltron.”

“By that logic, you should be packing your bags right now.”

Lance throws his head back and laughs. “I’m going to fucking kill you, Kogane.”

“Try me.”

Lance shrugs, but just as Keith starts to look away, he throws himself at him. It’s so unexpected that Keith actually goes down, wrists slammed to the mat on either side of his body, wind knocked out of him.

Lance laughs breathlessly, looming messy and sweaty above him. “Wow, that was embarrassing for you. Your arrogance is your downfall.”

“You’re my downfall,” Keith says, a little too flat and sincere across the top, and Lance purses his lips.

“You’re taking this too seriously, dude.” He lets go easily, and rolls out on his back next to him instead. He flexes his wrist in the air above them both, and Keith watches his fingers work. “Why does it feel like it’s been forever since we sparred?”

“It has,” Keith says simply.

“I guess,” Lance yawns. “I can’t even remember the last time.”

His heart is still pounding from the first serious, sustained training he's done in months. When Lance goes to sit up, Keith puts a staying hand on his chest.

“Hey, Lance," he says. Lance hums. "If you got separated from your lion for any reason, would you—what would you do?”

He frowns. “I dunno. Alert you guys. Rescue mish.”

“What if you couldn’t contact us?”

Lance looks sideways at him. “Not loving this thought experiment. Why are you being so weird?”

“Please,” Keith says, taking Lance’s sore wrist, feeling for the artificial thud of his pulse. “Just—answer.”

“Uh. I don’t know, am I captured? Or planet-side?”

Keith swallows. “Planet-side.”

Lance nods, considering. “If the locals are part of the alliance, I would get their intel, and find a way to reach you. If not, I guess I would lie low. Wait for a friendly ship and signal them.”

“That could take years. It might never happen, depending on where you ended up. Like—alien vessels aren’t cruising over Earth very often.”

“Says you,” Lance jokes. “The truth is out there.”

“You could die waiting,” Keith insists, dropping his hand. “What if the atmosphere wasn’t compatible? The flora and fauna? What if your suit was compromised?”

“I would heroically overcome all obstacles, whistle for my trusty lion, and ride off into the cosmos,” he replies sardonically, “what do you want from me?”

“I just think we should have more rescue protocols in place in case something goes south.”

“Right,” Lance says slowly. “Well, I mean—and I’m going to try and get through this without gagging—I have your back, man. And if we get separated, I’m pretty sure you can take care of yourself.” He gestures at their discarded staffs. “Not as well as me, of course,” he sniffs, glancing sidelong at Keith to see if he’s cheered him up.

Keith feels the phantom weight of Lance’s body crushing him to the mat, a window of weakness pried open, broken and entered. He breathes out. “Yeah. You’re too good for that.”

______

He asks Pidge for more scenarios, and more user profiles. For fleshing things out, he tells her. For recreating the circumstances under which Lance was lost, testing his reactions to different situations, and introducing as many variables as possible.

Slowly, inevitably, he starts to lose control of it all.

He’s still a correspondent to the Blade of Marmora, and he’s on call as a paladin, but they haven’t been able to form Voltron in years. He’s perpetually out of sync with the rest of the universe, living more and more like a washed-up casino-goer, existing only for the market stall where he can plug his friends in and relive the past.

He pays off the owner not to ask questions, and gets an apartment on Seachmall, barely the size of a lion cockpit, just a sparse kitchenette and a twin cot. He spends hours in the simulator and crashes on his bare mattress, bathed in the constant, spectacular glow from the street lights.

Every time he staggers away from the market he has to remember that the real Lance is rotting somewhere, and he’s here playing dress up with shadows.

It’s all easier, in the holodeck.

He loads the original paladin line-up into battle, relives their victories and rights their wrongs. He finds himself in the kitchen of the castle of lions, in a ballroom overlooking a fathoms-deep canyon, curled in Lance’s bed so he can finally sleep. He takes his friends to Earth a hundred different ways.

There’s always a fog, a strangeness about them when they think too hard about where they are, but he knows it’s a mercy. He ends each simulation on the verge of spinning out, functionally pulling the trigger on his dearest friends.

Reality sags out of his grip. Pidge and Hunk call sometimes, and often Kolivan or Allura will give him status reports, scattered missions, and lectures that walk the line between morally superior and deeply, uncomfortably worried. When Shiro starts up daily check-ins, he understands that they all know what he’s been doing, lost on Seachmall for so long.

“You’re taking care of yourself, right?” Shiro asks.

“Yes,” Keith tells him. He’s staring at the empty wall across from his bed, absently sharpening his knife. “I’m just killing time.”

“We really miss you around here. It’s too quiet.”

He tests his blade, rolling his shoulder. “I’m not exactly bringing the party when I’m out there.”

Shiro hums. “I don’t know, you certainly keep things interesting.”

Keith snorts.

“I’m serious!” He can hear the smile in his voice. “There’s only so much quantum mechanics and ancient magic I can take before I want to hit something. I want my sparring partner back.”

They lapse into silence, and Keith traces patterns in the air, enjoying the fine metallic sound of a weapon without a target.

“You know we’re still looking, right?” Shiro asks. Keith stops cutting the air, and puts his knife down on the bed beside him.

“Are you?”

“Yes,” Shiro says. “Of course we are. Allura and I are visiting every contact she has, and Hunk and Pidge are working—overtime. We’re picking up a lot of slack here.”

The back of his neck prickles with guilt. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Shiro sighs. “I’m telling you this because you’re my brother.” But he has his diplomat voice on, which Keith has always hated. “And I don’t know if you’re thinking about what it’s going to do to the rest of us if you don’t come back from this.”

“From a simulator?” he asks, incredulous.

“From grieving,” Shiro corrects. “I would never tell you to stop looking, but I think you know you’re not going to find him in those projections.”

“I could,” he says stiffly. “He tells me things—every day he gives me clues and he doesn’t even know it.”

“He doesn’t tell you anything,” Shiro says gently. “Because it’s not him. Do you remember when Allura had to let go of her father? It was so easy for her precious memories to be corrupted, and even easier to get swept away in the illusion. Everything in a simulator is finite, Keith, but you can’t be. You have to grow, and change, and move on.”

He thinks of every different shade of Lance he’s seen, every secret door that gives and leads to another wing. “You don’t get it.”

“Of course I get it. If Adam—“ he cuts himself off, and his breath shudders over the line. “You’re not the only one to be feeling this loss, or to be struggling.”

“But I never even got to love him," Keith argues. “I never got close enough to put any of these feelings anywhere, and now they’re everywhere. No one ever gives me the chance to love them before they—“ he swallows, and when he goes to speak again he finds there’s nothing else to say.

“I know how hard it’s been for you,” Shiro says sadly. “But Keith, understand—we all love you. No matter where we are or what we’re doing. We don’t have to verbalize it to feel it.”

“Okay,” he says, numb.

“We love you,” he reiterates. “Lance did too.”

“Thanks for checking on me Shiro,” he says, and hangs up.

______

“No way, no way, no way,” Lance crows. “This is slander.”

“It can’t be slander if all of us were there to see it,” Hunk says, but he can’t look at Lance without cracking up.

“You’re remembering wrong,” he says. “She asked me to give a speech.”

“She asked you not to,” Pidge says, rolling her eyes. “Begged you, even.”

“Boo,” Lance laughs. “I was just trying to have a good time at alliance banquet number five zillion.”

They’re clustered on blankets between the yellow lion’s hulking paws, in the soft local vegetation of one of the last planets they liberated as a team. They were buzzed, when this conversation actually happened, but Keith hasn’t been able to replicate that particular feeling through the simulator.

“I don’t know why you always have to lie to these people,” Keith says, just as he did on the actual occasion.

“Embellish,” Lance protests. “I live by the principle that everyone wants to hear the best possible version of the story, and you owe it to them to tell it.”

“But the best version is almost never the real version,” Hunk says, exasperated.

“I dunno man, what’s real anyway?” Pidge says, easing back into the blankets. “Our lives are such a clusterfuck as it is. The line of what’s actually impossible gets farther away every day.”

“Yeah,” Lance says. “What squidge said. Lying is cool.”

“Ugh, don’t call me that,” Pidge complains.

“What, I’m agreeing with you,” Lance says, grinning. He leans over to give her a big-brotherly hair-pull that she intercepts with a karate chop.

“People deserve to know the truth,” Keith says mechanically, following the script, but then feeling flushed and hypocritical all at once.

“Okay, here’s a truth, universally acknowledged: Keith sucks,” Lance says.

“Hm. Sounds like another lie to me,” Hunk says, and Lance reaches up to steal his headband in retaliation. Hunk rolls his eyes and lets him have it, like he’s appeasing an overactive puppy.

Something skitters in the dark, beyond the dunes of Yellow’s paws.

“Don’t you have a rebuttal, Keith?” Pidge asks, sitting up on her hands.

“Why are you encouraging them?” Hunk groans.

Keith shrugs and stays silent; Lance’s gaze narrows shrewdly.

“You aren’t one of those weepy drunks, are you?”

Keith picks at a loose thread in their shared blanket. “No, I just changed my mind,” he says, veering off-book. “I don’t know why I was acting like it was ridiculous that you like telling stories, when it obviously makes people feel better to believe them.”

“Oh. Well. Glad you came to your senses,” Lance interrupts, overly loud. He always seems to hate it when Keith gets sincere like this. He begs for attention but recoils when he gets too much.

“Most of these alliance parties happen after a long period of unrest. So… what, you helped grieving people by acting like a superhero? To them, you are a superhero. God, I couldn’t stand that you took so much credit for our victories, but I should’ve given you more.”

Lance blinks at him.

He remembers with fire-bright clarity how this scene actually played out, the way Keith kept needling at Lance’s hero complex, accusing him of making things up so he could pretend he’d been helpful. Lance had dialled his bravado to a screaming pitch so he could hide the soft, spoiled look in his eyes where Keith had lodged a cruel sword that he couldn’t pull out.

Now, Lance purses his lips so he doesn’t have to figure out what to do with his expression.

“Huh,” Pidge says, chewing on a pseudo-protein bar from their rations. “That’s some unexpected character growth.”

“Are you… feeling okay?” Hunk asks.

Keith looks miserably down at his own crossed legs until Lance says, “not that I don’t appreciate it, but you did just do kind of an impressive one-eighty.”

He looks up. “Yeah, sorry. I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about.”

Lance smiles a little, relieved. He waggles the flask they’ve been sharing in his direction. “You just need to drink more.”

“No,” Keith disagrees, shaking his head. “I want to remember this.”

______

He opens his eyes to the world on its side, gritty endless flatlands sprayed out against a hazy auburn sky.

He rolls, putting his arm over his face, a visor against radiant twin suns.

He doesn’t have to look to remember the architecture at his back, a cubist explosion of edges and colours, each shape squared off and set into the hills. When the paladins liberated Imedemaa, they were offered accommodation in homes that corresponded to their lions: terracotta red, cobalt blue, mustard yellow, foliage green, and a brown so dark it could pass as black.

It’s his favourite place to visit: brilliant views, kind people, warm bed, privacy and proximity bumping shoulders comfortably.

Keith rolls again, sitting up. He feels heat-sick, and if it were real, he knows he would be bruised tan in the coast-to-coast sunshine. He’s spread out on the same outdoor palette where he fell asleep nearly three years ago. His apartment is warm, dull red, nearly orange. The shimmering public baths sparkle with activity just below his balcony.

“Yoo-hoo, neighbour.”

Keith squints over the waist-high wall and finds Lance clambering from his own balcony onto Keith’s.

“You’re going to fall to your death.”

“Nah,” Lance says, swinging a leg down over the railing and sitting contemplatively with one foot dangling over empty space and the other brushing the floor. “There’s a pool down there. Worst case scenario I perform an exceptional and history-making canon-ball.”

Keith watches him climb the rest of the way over, staggering and sitting heavily on Keith’s palette next to him.

“Oof,” he says. Lance's skin is dazzling in this climate, dark and freckled like granite. The simulation reminds him that he smelled like lotus, this day, fresh from the baths, warm shoulder and drizzling wet hair. “Are you ready to absolutely blow this popsicle stand?”

“And do what?” Keith asks, a little breathless from proximity.

“Did you seriously forget? It’s racing day!”

“Oh,” Keith says faintly. “Right.” They used to rent speeders for fun sometimes; the whole team participating at first, and then Keith and Lance alone when they surpassed friendly competition into bet-making and sabotage.

They would sneak back whenever they could swing the time off, careening around dusty corners and ramming one another’s speeders into hysterical tailspins. They would sob with laughter and then spritz their canteens all over each other, tussling in the dirt, so coordinated that it was almost an embrace.

The thought of it had driven him out of bed this morning, but he felt sick and shaky as he typed Pidge’s code into the simulator, setting the modified location of Imedemaa and rolling into a memory so fine and warm that it reminded him of death itself.

“Woah. easy, Red,” Lance says, his voice sharp with concern. Keith comes back to himself to realize that he’s angling into a panic attack, holding his own head in his hands. He can’t spoil this memory. Not this one.

“I—I—“ He can’t speak. Lance makes a dismayed noise, his entire demeanour turning inside out.

“Can I hug you, man?”

Keith jerks his head ‘no’. “I—can’t—you—“

Lance gets to his feet, and Keith grabs at him, hooking fingers in a belt loop, a fistful of shirt, whatever his hands find first.

“Hey, shh, it’s cool, I’m just getting you some water.”

Keith shakes his head again. “Don’t leave me.”

“Will you tell me what’s wrong?” Lance asks softly, sitting back down. “We don’t have to go racing today.”

Keith huffs this weird cartwheel of a laugh, and scrubs a hand over his eyes and nose.

“I think I dreamed you were dead,” he tells him. He doesn’t look up into his face, but Lance’s chest is steady in front of him, rising and falling evenly with each breath.

“Who, me? I’m fine, Keith, look at me.”

“It felt real.”

“Pretty sure it wasn’t,” Lance says, laughter tucked into his worry like a concealed weapon. Keith looks up at him, and Lance beams under his full attention. He wipes the tears from Keith’s cheeks with his thumbs.

Abruptly, he can’t stand it.

“You’re a hologram,” Keith whispers. Lance’s smile falters.

“What?”

“Do you remember how Pidge took our mental blueprints?”

Lance nods quickly. He’s not brushing Keith off, he’s not slow with disbelief. He’s clear and sharp and his face is increasingly overcast with fear.

“I’m using your data in a simulation. This holiday on Imedemaa, it was years ago. You’re not the real Lance.” It hurts, to admit it, but it’s clear that it hurts Lance much, much more.

“No,” he chokes. “No, I feel real.”

“I know you do,” Keith says, reaching for his hand.

But Lance jerks away, standing and reeling backwards, hands splayed out on red paint, which could be gore, really, bleeding out from Lance’s palms like that. “I was so fucking scared of this.“

“I’m sorry,” Keith says, watching this shade of Lance shaking through self-awareness, and feeling the weight of the words that could end it in his mouth.

“Why—where—“

“He’s gone,” Keith whispers.

“Gone as in gone?”

“Gone as in I can’t find him.”

“So why the fuck are you wasting time on this Black Mirror shit, and not out there looking for me?” he demands.

“I’ve looked everywhere.” The agony of his failure slides home all over again. “The search party is a million strong by now. I’ve talked to a hundred versions of you looking for an answer.”

“A hundred,” Lance says. “So what, when I tell you what you want to hear, you delete me?”

“I’m not wiping the data or anything, I—I don’t know how it works,” he admits.

“Jesus. Jesus Keith, this is fucked up.”

Tears start to well up, and he wipes them away furiously. He never used to cry like this. He never used to feel so constantly ravaged by guilt and fear. It used to live in his gut and press at his throat, but he could keep it wrapped and sealed inside his body.

“I miss you,” Keith tries, and Lance’s face twists with despair.

“I really wish it didn’t take this horror show to make you say that.”

Somewhere, something splashes and someone shrieks with laughter. Lance looks at him miserably, hunched in the shade from the terrace, brow damp with terrified perspiration. He absolutely shouldn’t have told him. He remembers Pidge laughing darkly, I’m not that cruel.

“What do you want me to do,” Keith asks quietly.

“What choice do I have?” Lance asks. “I’m a fucking video game character. I’m a dead man walking.”

“Do you want to do anything? Before I end this session.”

Lance swallows, considering. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I do, actually.”

______

They race.

What feels like all day, ripping in circles under arching rocks and through clinging, dragging sand, until the suns are setting, twin flames set into the desert like jewels.

Lance is extra reckless, gorgeous, perched high on his speeder and arched forward to reach the controls. His face, below the goggles, is streaked with mud, and he keeps crying out when he tips over too far or pulls triumphantly ahead of Keith, cathartic, unfiltered.

“One more lap,” he shouts, over the thrum of noise from the speeder.

“I’ll beat your ass,” Keith calls, trying for normalcy, but they’ve both kind of been crying on and off all day, and this is the last thing this Lance will ever do, and really, he’s not that cruel.

“Fucking try,” Lance says, pulling his bandana up over his mouth and taking off.

“Hey!” Keith laughs. “No countdown?”

“I think I deserve a head start,” he calls over his shoulder, but most of his voice is whipped away by the wind.

The speeder rips sideways, sliding over a natural boulder ridge that drops off into nothingness. Strange gravity keeps him on the right side of the cliff, and he hoots with joy, galloping metres and metres ahead as Keith eases through the same turn.

“You’re gonna—“ get yourself killed. He bites his tongue. Lance can’t hear him anyway. He zigzags through natural obstacles, glancing back in disbelief when Keith pulls up behind him. His face is red with the effort of staying upright.

“Can’t you let me win for once,” Lance cries, slamming on the thrusters and stirring up a fog of dust behind him. Keith coughs and dodges, feeling on the very edge of an awareness too big to name, like being able to feel one stage of grief ending and another beginning.

Sometime during Lance’s luxurious lead he’s taken off his helmet, and now the desert wind is whipping his hair straight.

He takes the next corner much too fast, and Keith’s heart is in his throat as he inevitably spins out, in smooth little frictionless circles at first, weightless as a bumper car—and then the rear of the speeder catches on a jutting rock and he’s ejected altogether. He topples out into the sifting dunes, rolling half a dozen times and stopping himself so abruptly that Keith can hear something snap.

He pulls up hard, tumbling off the speeder and throwing his helmet out into the sand, running as best he can to where Lance landed.

When he reaches him he’s cradling a severely broken arm to his chest, and the bone is piercing through the skin. There’s blood everywhere, weeping through his fingers, streaked high on his hairline, staining his shirt and the tawny sand beneath him.

“Would’ve been great if you could have programmed me not to hurt,” Lance wobbles. Stiff upper lip, terribly pale.

“Didn’t know you were going to throw yourself off a speeder.”

“Yeah, well. Me neither.” He hisses as Keith takes his wrist in his hand, unfathomably gentle, turning it this way and that.

“This looks terrible.”

Lance snorts. “Thank you doctor Keith.”

“I don’t think we brought any first aid,” he mutters, frowning, digging through the pack at his hip.

“I don’t need it.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re—“

“Keith.” He looks up at him, smudgy and sweaty and splashed with five kinds of red in the fading light. “I don’t need it.”

Keith trembles, still searching for a bandage or a stopper or an answer of any kind. “No. I hate this.”

Lance smiles grimly. “I don’t love it that much either. But hey, maybe there’s a way to bring me back. This exact version of me. From the ether somewhere. Doesn’t feel quite as permanent as capital D Death.” His eyes narrow. “As long as you don’t lose me, Red.”

“I won’t,” he whispers, parched and grief-torn. “Never again.”

“Okay. Okay.” He makes himself comfortable, stretched out on the sand, arm folded over his chest. “Hey, Keith?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you not—raise me from the dead again? I don’t think—I mean. A hundred versions of me and you haven’t found what you’re looking for.”

“But I have,” Keith says fiercely. “I always find what I’m looking for, because I’m looking for you.”

Lance laughs, coughs, squeezes his eyes shut. “That’s real romantic.”

Keith’s mouth twitches. “I’m glad you think so.”

Lance cracks an eye open. “Just find me the old fashioned way, will you? No more beautiful Lance casualties.”

“I—don’t know if I can promise that,” he says. “I miss you,” he reiterates.

“Yeah. More, I bet, when you’re looking right at me. Ever wonder why that is?”

Keith shakes his head fast.

“Dumbass,” Lance says fondly. “It’s literally always gonna hurt, trying to live in the past. Makes you feel like you don’t have a future.”

“Maybe I don’t.”

“That’s a pretty insensitive thing to say to a dying guy.”

Keith laughs wetly. “You’re being melodramatic.”

“When can you be melodramatic if not on your deathbed?”

Keith brushes the sticky hair from Lance’s forehead. He turns his face and Keith’s hand softens and cups his cheek comfortably.

“Pidge can do anything,” Keith tells him. “All your ones and zeroes will be safe somewhere until she can figure out somewhere for you to go.”

“Yeah, okay,” Lance says, like he barely heard him. He’s determined, heroic. Fucking heartbreaking. “I hope the real me gives you hell.”

Keith nods jerkily. “He always does.”

“I hope he—I hope he’s good to you, too.”

Keith’s face crumples, and he puts his forehead to Lance’s, feeling him wince when his chest grazes his broken arm.

“Sorry, sorry,” he sniffs, holding his face, wiping the blood and muck and tears back.

“It’s okay,” Lance says, starting to slur. “It’s okay, Red, just end it, quick.”

“You’re the last one,” Keith promises.

“Good,” Lance says, “because you’re not gonna do better than me.”

Keith laughs, putting their foreheads together again, and then kissing the place where a tear has rolled down into his hairline.

“See you soon,” he whispers. Lance leans up, golden, bloody.

Keith shudders, and says “end simulation” into his mouth.

Imedemaa winks out, and his whole world narrows instantly to a pinhead. He’s huddled on the floor over nothing at all, caught in the throws of fantasy, like a sleepwalker. When he licks his lips though, he swears he can still taste salt.

______

He leaves the simulator into the whiz and pop of another Seachmall night. The owner nods at him, looking vaguely troubled, possibly by the amount of time that Keith has been locked in his simulator today, and by the look on his face now, which he can only imagine is ripped in half by loss.

The market is busier than usual, stranger, overfull with alien tourists, so much so that the paladin simulator has accumulated a long line-up.

He sidesteps their stares, slipping soundlessly into the alley, already dialling Pidge on his communicator. She said the system would automatically wipe after each use, but he’s certain she can retrieve whatever information would be inaccessible to the public. She said herself that she doesn’t burn data.

He waits through the suck of the empty line, feeling antsy and keyed up, aching from a day of racing but incongruously clean and dry.

“Come on, Pidge,” he mutters.

Somewhere in the market, there’s a great clamour of voices. Something clatters to the ground, and someone apologizes profusely in common. Keith chews his lip distractedly, waiting for a thief to run by, a sheepish tourist, or scuffling rival business owners.

The line connects and disconnects in quick succession, and Keith kicks a trash disposal chute so hard that it dents.

He frets, thinking of Lance’s final moments, the wilting fear on his face, his mouth split open like fruit.

A hoverbike rounds the corner, and Keith only steps barely out of the way, nearly clipped by a wide fender. It crashes to a stop, making a thin, rumbling sound, and then its rider has whipped all the way around to stare at Keith. Achingly humanoid. Cobalt blue Motorcycle helmet. Rippling with motion even while sitting still.

They swing a leg over the seat of the bike, staggering closer, and Keith knows. He knows when a slender, gloved hand reaches for the visor, and when twin pistols clink and gleam from their holsters. The helmet falls, rolling into the dirt.

“Keith,” Lance breathes.

#vld #klance #voltron #klance fanfic #mine #alcohol mention #injury tw #I promise I'm working on my tfc wips but I took a hiatus to write a 20k voltron fic bc..... i felt... like it #long post #I know this might flop due to it being voltron lmao but hit me up if you want chapter 2!!

[todororororokiy]

Voltron is trending so here’s how I’d remake Voltron: Legendary Defender

I’d like to preface this with a few things 1) I loved season 1 and 2, I was a die hard Voltron fan from the second I started watching, and while I had issue with season 3-6 I was ok with them 2) I never watched season 8 and I only watched half of 7. From what I hear, this was a good decision 3) I spent six hours straight working on this, so I apologise for any spelling mistakes or errors 4) None of this belongs to me.

Ok, basic setup is the same except for one thing, Shiro is aged down. It never made sense to me to have Shiro be 25, and the rest of them be 15-18, it seemed like a very big gap, and as we can see from Fandom it caused a lot of discourse. So every bodies aged as such, just for reference:

Shiro: 20

Allura: 22

Keith: 18

Lance & Hunk: 17

Pidge: 16

One more note, all seasons would be about 11-13 episodes long. It has never made sense to me why four of the eight season were 6-7 episodes and the rest were a normal length.

Season 1 & 2

Both of these seasons were great. Voltron was a really good show for these first seasons. There’s nothing to change here.

Season 3

Plot Changes

Nonoe at the moment. There would be more scenes added and obviously some scenes would be altered but over all the plot is intact.

Shiro’s Disappearance

In this version everyone has a different opinion on Shiro's disappearance, I never felt like they did in the show.

Keith, obviously, thinks he’s alive and so does Pidge.

Hunk and Coran remain doubtful, though they each have a little hope, Coran more so than Hunk

Allura and Lance both think the worst. Side note: this is where we see Lance and Allura properly transition from slightly awkward coworkers to friends. Their shared grief and angst helps them bond and open up a route for them to start communicating. They kind of got over him being a creep reallysuddenly, and that doesn’t happen, even if he had stopped the behaviour, I think she’d take some time before she allowed him to be her friend.

Pidge and Her Family

Pidge is super isolated in the original show. While her arc, I felt, was about trusting the team and leaning on them more for support. To come out of her shell, and be defined by something greater than her family and love for technology.

In this version everyone wants to help find Matt and Dr. Holt. Having her connect with the team by them wanting to help, and especially them wanting to help in the wake of Shiro’s disappearance feels like a logical move. Everyone’s devastated about Shiro one way or another, and they want to see Pidge get her family back. It brings the team members hope for Shiro.

Lion Swapping and My Many Issues with it

the lion swap should have been temporary. Something they had to do but would try to avoid as much as possible.

Originally everyone wants Allura to pilot Black. She’s their commander and so should take up the mantle of leader. But black refuses her entry.

In this version everyone in the team says that they’re making do with what they have. That Allura is their commander of their operation, Shiro their leader. We see in this episode there’s almost a bit more of an understanding between the paladins, we seen that each has grown to see one another for the person they are rather than the person they initially thought they were.

We see struggle both in the team as they can’t make voltron, and having no real commander as Allura’s been forced to pilot the Blue lion. We also see a major issue arise because Allura CANNOT connect with blue. Keith, Allura and Lance can fly in them, but they can’t unlock any of their elemental powers. It’s impossible. We see through this season moment where ice or fire or teleportation might be useful but the paladins have to find ways around it because of this handicap. The emphasise that the lion swap isn’t something to be taken lightly and is a real issue.

Lance and Feelings of being Inferior

Lance feels like he’s he’ll never match up to Keith throughout this season as Keith has started to prove that he’s more of a leader than Lance has.

Because lance’s friendships with everyone have deepened, they start to  encourage him a bit more, be more supportive towards him.

We see Lance stand up for himself as well when Hunk and Pidge make comments about his intelligence that actually really hurt him, we see them being surprised, but then they profusely apologise and say they were joking, we see an absence of said jokes after this point. This helps build Lance’s self esteem a little

Keith and Lance’s friendship also has room to breath as Keith is y’know, around, and not off with the blade. Through this friendship Lance comes to realise Keith isn’t all perfect and that he might be holding himself up to unrealistic expectations, though he still doubts himself a lot

The Clone Plot Line/The Lance and Shiro Plot Line

The clone plot line? Loved that soooooo much, it could’ve been so good, we could’ve had so much interesting stuff, and we did, The Black Paladins is fantastic, but they did nothing else, and I feel like even in that episode the clones were set dressing.

There was also the issue of Lance breaking down into tears in season six. What was that? He didn’t have the emotional connection to Shiro I felt the show was implying he did. We’re gonna fix that.

We see Lance and Shiro become closer friends while he’s a clone.

Clone Shiro is a lot more vulnerable and less guarded with his emotions than original Shiro was, and a little more willing to joke and be more lenient, even if this can also back fire when he explodes into fits of rage.

This allows everyone to get closer to him, but especially Lance, who I feel up until this point was just always at a weird point in his relationship with Shiro where they were friends, but Lance got the impression Shiro didn’t like him a whole lot and Shiro got the impression Lance found him very intimidating and scary, and had zero idea how to deal with this.

Keith and Leadership

Keith’s time as a leader helps teach him some things and really gets the ball rolling on showing the audience that he can be a leader even if he initially struggles  

season 4

Plot Changes

Keith floats between the Blade and Voltron for maybe an episode of two.

Everyone is convinced that once Shiro can fly black, things can go back to normal.

After returning from a mission the castle ship gets attacked and everyone runs to their lions. Allura and Lance pipe up over the comms on their helmets that they can’t access Blue or red. Lance runs to see if he can convince Blue to stop being like this

Meanwhile Keith has a talk with Coran and comes to the realisation that he wants to be apart of the team while Pidge, Hunk and Shiro try to deal with the threat themselves. He gets the message from Allura who comes running into the room saying they can’t access red. Lance was able to get into blue however. Keith rushes off with his mind decided, he hears red in his mind. They form voltron for the first time since shiro’s disappearance.

Everyone’s helping Pidge look for her father and brother and at the start of an episode we get a scene of them all discussing some potential clue while they train.

The episode where Pidge finds her brother follows the same outline, but everyone’s there helping her. However the really emotional scenes ie the graveyard scene and later on when they’re reunited, take place with only Pidge and Matt so the moment isn’t ruined

Instead of Keith discovering the trap at the end of the season, it’s Allura as Keith is with the Voltron team on the planet, trapped.

Shiro gives some “this isn’t the end of the line” speech and talks about how they’ve all connect more over the past few months, and they’ve become a real family and nothing can change, even if it all ends here. That causes the others to all connect with their lions on a deeper level, and it helps them raise out of the field, but only a little. Then Shiro asks black to trust him, to put her faith in him once again. He tells her he knows somethings wrong with him, that he doesn’t know how to fix it. That what they did to him was terrible- and she flashes something in his mind telling him off for such negative thoughts and they connect. Voltron rises.

Keith, Conflict, and Starting to become a Leader

The season begins with Keith still struggling to decide how to spend him time. We see more of this struggle, that starts in this episode. He’s trying to spend as much time with Voltron and as much time with The blade as he can.

He feels connected to the blade due to his heritage and believes somehow he’ll be able to find some sense of family. But he’s more connected to his team and Voltron. We, as an audience, know that he’s already found his family in Voltron at this point.

We also see everyone deeply worrying and missing him. With frequent calls and messages exchanged back and forth between everyone and Keith. He feels this worry and doesn’t know what to do, because for the first time in his life he has a family that cares about him.

As the season goes on we see Keith prove himself as a leader without being the leader of Voltron. When Shiro’s incapacitated we see him take charge and guide everyone.

One particular moment would be Keith having to command a group of alien soldiers, and get them all to follow him and help fight off some Galra from their planet. In this we see Keith struggle slightly to control everyone, before he gets the hang of it and leads everyone to victory and safety.

The Clone Plot Line

Because Shiro is a clone he cannot access the black lion. This is sort of implied to be because she knows he’s a clone and refuses to let him in because his quintessence is screwed up.

Lance and Shiro are seen to confide in each other a lot, and Shiro tells Lance things he feel he can’t tell anyone else, even Keith, for fear they’ll worry too much.

We see the start of Shiro’s headaches in this season, and Lance helps soothe them.  

Shiro does eventually access the black lion, but only because of some hard core begging and Keith being back

When we see Haggar we realise she’s spying on the paladins through Shiro. Some way or another we also learn that they were able to make this clone using DNA samples from Shiro amputated arm that they preserved.

The audience can also come to the conclusion that the reason Shiro gets a headache’s is because of Haggar looking through his eyes.

Pidge’s Family

Pidge gets a lot of clues about her family and the team helps her track down Matt and Dr. Holt.

We see a lot of team bonding over this as they try to break down clues and discover where they are, and how to get to them.

The whole arc surrounding her brother and father is a little more in depth.

As this arc goes on in this season we also see Pidge being to come to see the other paladins as her family. Pidge is the last one to have this realisation and it really solidifies them as a family unit

The team all have a really sweet moment where Pidge announces that she’s glad she had the help of her family to help find her brother.

Lotors motivation: what are they?

Before we get into the next four season, I’d like to specify Lotor’s motivations, and the reasons behind why he does what he does.

Lotor is troubled. He was abused as a child. His parents were corrupted and evil, and there was nothing he could do about. He suffered greatly emotionally and physically when they raised him. He was desperate to please them.

As he grew and tried to both find a balance between acquiring large supplies of quintessence and keeping the local people of the planets they were mining happy, he was punished for these digressions. He became angry, and started to hate the Galra. Blaming them for everything wrong in the universe. Believing that without them his parents would not be like this.

Lotor wants to bring back Altea, he comes to believe that they’re absence in the universe has caused the Galra to take over. He thinks they’ll be able to undo, and fix everything bad in the universe. The problem is, there aren’t a lot left of them. There are a few, scattered, and hunted down by the empire and eventually all will be caught. It scares him and when Altea was destroyed, along with millions of Alteans so easily.

Lotor realises he can no longer try to convince his father and mother that what they’re doing in wrong. He decides to make the colony to protect the remaining Alteans. To hide them away in a far, far off planet in an odd section of space the Galra don’t have interest in.

He comes to learn of alternate realities and ways to reach through and get to them. He believes, and in his mind he knows, that what he has to do is find some reality where Alteans are the ruling class, and not any Alteans, these Alteans, the version that existed just before Altea was destroyed. He won’t bring all of them over, just some, slowly and efficiently until there’s enough to defeat the Galra empire and bring back peace to the galaxy.

Lotor comes to realise the sheer amount of power this will require however, and comes to a dark realisation. He harvests some of the Alteans for their quintessence. Because the ends justify the means. He will bring peace and harmony to the universe if it’s the last thing he does. Even if it means a few sacrifices.

Back to our scheduled programming

season 5

Plot Changes

Keith is still with the team.

Zarkon doesn’t die in the second episode of the season. Cause what was that. Like seriously.

Allura and Keith are the first to like and trust Lotor for different reasons

Everyone else is far more sceptical. They still don’t trust Lotor. He seems sketchy.

The team have more direct encounters with Zarkon and a lot of different fractions of the Galra empire this season due to Lotor. While the Galra all unquestionably follow Zarkon.

Many Galra say that Lotor “has all the thirst for power that Zarkon does, all the thirst for quintessence but none of the courage to stand up and take it” which paints him in a better light as they all interpret this to mean he’s not anywhere near as cruel as Zarkon.

We see in a sort of one off shot of them post saving a planet that Shiro still cannot figure out what’s wrong with him, while Lance tells him that there isn’t anything wrong with him. A shallow comfort as they both at this point don’t believe that.

The blade offer Keith a mission right before the battle where Zarkon dies, a mission to do with something important, and is too take place after their current mission. Keith believes it may be his mother, and Lotor and the team pushes Keith to take the chance. He doesn’t want to leave the team but Lotors words about seeing his mother for what she truely is. Lotor means this in a really sinister way we later find out. Keith asks Red to once again give her command to Lance and both Blue lion and red accept the changes.

Zarkon dies at the end of this season, a fight between Lotor and him, we see a lot of emotion, and tense fighting. Zarkon dies to his son.

Pidge’s Family

The whole thing with Pidge’s father remains, and so does going back to earth. It’ll take a long time, but Pidge’s father feels he doesn’t belong here the same way his children do. He’ll be back, they’ll see each other again some day soon.

Alongside this we get the confirmation that Pidge really does feel that the team is her family just as much as Matt, and her parents are.

The Clone

On the Shiro front, he feels terrible, things have only gotten worse for him, he feels completely unlike himself.

Because of the severity of his headaches, the team puts him in the healing pods a few times, but they do nothing, everyone is worried.

Lance especially had a few fears as he hears more and more worrying information from Shiro about nightmares he keeps suffering. Shiro asks him not to tell anyone.

While Shiro doesn’t tell even Lance, we the audience learn of his illness and his ex boyfriend and the issues that arose because he wanted to go to space.

Keith, Galra Heritage and Leadership

Keith warms to Lotor surprisingly quickly. He finds comfort in talking with someone like Lotor about his Galra heritage. Lotor is half Galra, and while the rest of the paladins are supportive. They don’t understand it in the way Keith believes Lotor understands it

While Keith does hear some worrying comments from Lotor, he ignores them, as he doesn’t want to lose this connection.

We see Keith act more as a leader this season as well, with him again leading planets of aliens, and at a few points, Voltron when Shiro’s headaches incapacitate him

Lance and Self Esteem

Through this season we see Lance come into himself a little more. As per the last season he’s been more honest with everyone and it’s made him happier

We also see Lance realise he doesn’t really want to be a big leader like Shiro and Keith. That while he can, he doesn’t want to. He prefers taking a step back. In this realisation he becomes a lot more confident in himself as the teams sharpshooter, something everyones been calling him since season one. His gun transforms into a sniper rifle with this realisations and he and the team are amazed.

being back in blue also helps reaffirm this as he and blue continue to power up together.

Allura and Lotor’s Developing Relationship

Allura warms to Lotor after some initial hesitation, as she comes to believe he wants the same thing as her, the return of a peaceful time, and harmony in the universe. He wants desperately to find some way to restore the universe and they bond and develop genuine romantic feelings.

Allura and Lotor start sorta dating in this season towards the ending, before everything goes to shit, and he slowly begins to want to reveal his true plan to her.

We also see Lotor’s many conflicting emotions surrounding his father. Him killing Zarkon at the end of the season serves to cement Lotor as a good guy to everyone, and a symbolic way of freeing him from his past.

Side note: the monsters and mana episode takes place in this season before Keith leaves and things take a nose dive into serious business

Season 6.

Plot Changes

This season begins with Voltron fighting a small army of Galra fighters.

Many Galra, in preparation for the Kral Zera, have started to prepare their armies and followers so they can take over the Galra empires at the kralzera

Lotor, with the help of Voltron takes his “rightful” place as ruler, this is because, while Shiro and Lance are still a little skeptical all the other have at least become friendly.

This season follows the paladins as they attempt to be Voltron while Keith is out on a long mission. They miss him, and just like at the beginning of season 3, we see a litany of messages and texts, and voicemails and a few videos sent to him. Even though they don’t get a response. The blade informs the team that Keith will not be able to contact them for some time. The team continues to message him in spite of this.

Lance dies. Lance fucking dies and everyone has a major freak out and there is visible grief and horro among the paladins. Allura brings him back much to everyone’s relief.

we see a lot of angry aliens in this, both over the fact they’re siding with Lotor and over the fact they’re not doing anything immediate

After they come out of the quintessence field, Lotor reveals his true plans to her. She’s horrified and disgusted, much to his chagrin and takes off in one of the Sincline ship.

At the same time as Allura is having this moment, so too are the paladins. Keith has returned with his mother, and an Altean to back up his story Shiro starts having a progressively major headache as time goes on, Lance tries to comfort him.

Allura does manage to get back to the castle of lions. In tears she tells everyone what they already know and they all share a moment of shock before Allura frantically says that Lotor was right behind her.

Shiro’s programming activates and he knocks everyone out and takes Lotor.

The black paladins is a great episode. It’s the same episode in this version. Everything else after this episode stays the same too. It’s pretty good. I’d like to note, Voltron didn’t fail because it couldn’t hit these big emotional beats. It failed because it could never hit the small ones.

The Clone  

While dead, Lance sees Shiro.

Not for the first time, he worries that maybe the Shiro on his team has a point about feeling different.

Shiro and Lance have a moment where Lance is telling him as Shiro is breaking down to “look at me,” to try and give him a grounding spot, and then in this moment Shiro looks away and Honerva’s programming comes through. He knocks out everyone and we get a shot of Lance looking crushed by the realisation, he starts to cry.

Keith, Galra Heritage and Leadership

We see, just as we do in the original show, a lot of time with Keith’s mother

Keith is incredibly conflicted on her return. For one, he wants answers and she seems incredibly unwilling to provide any at all, but on the other hand he’s so great full to have her in his life.

Keith and his mother eventually talk

Keith finds himself feeling guilty about missing his team. Worried and concerned for them, and how they’re coping in the power vacuum caused by Zarkon death.

We again see Keith be a leader with far less effort now. Instead of struggling where he had before, we see Keith take being a leader in stride. Even on one of the smaller planets they pass, helping organise so that food can be brought more easily, and aiding with fending off a particularly nasty creature that has been pestering them.

Keith over this trip gets many lessons about the Galra, and finds comfort in the knowledge, event he parts he can’t stomach. It brings him some closure on this part of his life he’s been yearning to understand for years.

Lance and the Red lion

Throughout the season, we see being in the red lion, and Keith’s absence chip away at Lance a little.

He begins to once again doubt himself and compare himself to Keith.

We also see Shiro help Lance the same way Lance has been helping him for the past couple of season. With support and guidance and helping Lance once again realise he’s his own person

before Lance can truely again be confident in himself, the whole thing with the clone blows up in his face and he’s forced to suffer the consequences.

Conflict in the team

Throughout this season we see the dilemma of what they should be doing versus what they are doing. To many it seems that they are doing nothing, while behind the scenes there’s a lot of stuff going on, coordinating between multiple governments, and a lot of smaller battles occurring that few see or hear of as they don’t require Voltron.

The paladins mostly believe they should be striking a balance, but Allura and Lotor keep attempting to convince them that what they’re doing is sufficient. It frustrates the team to no end.

We see how Lotor manipulates each of them through this season too, more obviously as the audience has at this point been let on that he’s doing something bad.

However we also see Lotor very pointedly not talk about anything hinting at his real plans in front of Shiro, letting the audience know that Lotor knows something is wrong with him.

Allura and Lotor

Lotor and Allura are very close at this point. They have shared their relationship with the team, and  Lotor believes she will side with him if he tells her.

Instead Allura is disgusted by what he’s been doing and tries to get away from him. She fundamentally disagrees with what he’s been doing.

Season 7

Plot Changes

Shiro’s new body doesn’t reject him

the lions are depleted of power. They’re recharging slowly according to Allura, thanks to the strong bonds the paladins share, but it’s unlikely they’ll be fully charged any time soon.

Eveyrone’s depressed and having a lot of feelings of betrayal about Lotor and mixed feelings about the fact they’ve been living with a clone for a long, long time and they had no idea.

Shiros death does a singular good thing. Shiro is more connected with Black then ever. He can now teleport

The whole scene where Keith fights Macidus is with Shiro and it shows them being back insync after being a little lost with each other.

They all find out it’s been three years. In that time Lotor has ruled fiercely, demanding the quintessence mines across the galaxy be drained as quickly as possible. Why? Because of the stunt Voltron pulled three years ago, he can no longer access the quintessence field.

Hunk off Handedly remarks that Keith could be the new ruler of the Galra empire. Keith scoffs.

The flight home takes about half the season.

Through this half season they find a few things out. One is that the rebels have splintered and lost a lot of communication between groups since Voltron disappeared. Two they learn that Lotor found the location of earth. Three Lotor has a high, high price on their heads, far higher than even Zarkon has put upon them.

The paladins eventually all come together as a team, and become even further connected and that charges the lions enough that Shiro can create a wormhole far closer to earth.

They find nothing

This horrifying realisation comes accompanied by a signal from Matt Holt who has a specific bot designed to responds only to Voltron. Lance helps Pidge get it.

The next episode is going to find Matt.

There’s a teary reunion between the two of them and they find a massive colony of those who fled earth when they realised it was to be destroyed when Lotor was attempting to find Voltron, and flew into a rage when they were not there.

Everyone’s family is safe as they were some of the first taken from earth. They have a reunion.

Shiro gets parents, and an older brother (because I did notice the show gave him any biological family) and also gets to see Adam. While it’s still Cleary over, both men get closure, and are happy to see one another alive.

The season from now focuses on Voltron sorting out the coalition and trying to organise everything.

They contact the blade and begin preparing on how to defeat Lotor.

They find some of the blade, but as previously mentioned in the series many were killed in the three years they were away. However they do find a lot of very disempowered Galra soldiers who have been treated awfully by Lotor.

Lotor discovers their alive, and makes a very public announcement that anyone supporting Voltron will be destroyed.

The season ends in a semi big battle between Lotor and the paladins, one on one in a large mech only he pilots.

Both parties are wounded.

The Clone

Everyone feels awful and has no idea what to do

Shiro too feels pained. He has all the memories of the clone in his mind, and he doesn’t know what to do with them. How to sort through them

Lance out of all of them feels the worst as he was the closet to Shiro out of all of them. He believes should’ve seen something and starts to beat himself up over it.

Hunk and Pidge both feel they should’ve done something, or noticed, though Pidge is much more torn up about it. With Hunk knowing that none of them realised and it’s unreasonable that he would’ve any sooner than this.

Keith is shocked and hurt, and worried about Shiro first and foremost. He reassures Shiro that while it may not have been him, the clone acted like Shiro for the most part, a little more personable, but the real Shiro.

Lance and Self esteem

Due to his failure to pick up that Shiro was a clone, Lance begins questioning everything that Shiro ever told him as a clone.

He questions his whole self worth and no one can seem to help him out of the whole he’s emotionally digging for himself.

While recovering Shiro notices this, however, they keep getting interrupt before Shiro and Lance can have a proper talk

Keith kicks a little sense into him and they have a pretty heartfelt conversation which helps Lance a little, but he still can’t shake the feeling someone else would’ve seen it and sorted out the issue sooner.

Lance gets the blue lion back and she talks some sense into him, and tells him he shouldn’t be so hard on himself, it kicks a little sense into him, but again, he still feels terrible and he feels like Shiro’s been avoiding him.

Keith and Leadership

Shiro tells Keith, while still recovering that he’ll be able to take over pretty soon and fly the black lion.

Keith is actually disappointed this time round and feels instantly ashamed because it is Shiro’s lion and they have a great bond.

We come to learn that Keith quite enjoyed the small amount of time her led the team and found he wanted to keep being a leader.

Keith through this season connects to many Galra soldiers and people. He comes to find understanding with them now that he knows about his culture. Many joking comments he should be running the empire.

Season 8

Plot Changs

This season is filled with small battles, and lots of talks with previous allies.

Allura becomes the commander of the Atlas and enlists several humans and other aliens alike to help her command the ship side by side with Voltron. They become a formidable force.

They begin to fight Lotor’s forces in an attempt to bring him down by weakening his army thought they quickly discover he’s dug up enormous amounts of quintessence somehow.

Lotor should become more enraged and mounts larger attacks upon them, yet he doesn’t worrying everyone.

We then discover with the team that with their return so too had the return of the alternate universes, and Lotor was planning on using all the energy he harvested.

No one knows what happened to the Altean colony, and Allura and Coran, unsurprisingly, seem most torn up about. They both hope that it’s safe, and Lotor was more obsessed with his need to preserve the few Alteans he did have if he could never get more.

The team comforts both of their friends through this best they can but they start to realise it’ll be hard to stop Lotor.

Lotor does end up ripping huge holes in the space time continuum.

The last two episode are a battle between team Voltron, Atlas, and crew coalition all battling Lotor and the formidable amount of crafts he’s able to fuel thanks to the insane amounts of quintessence he’s mined over the past three years.

Eventually he starts universe hoping and team Voltron and Atlas all rush in to stop him. We follow them through trying to communicate with Lotor and get him to stop.

Allura pleads with Lotor and says she loves him, he stops and says he loves her too but he must finish his mission. Atlas has to go back because switching universes is ultimately destroying the ship and they’ll die if they stay any longer.

Eventually after wading through a million battle fields, and see a million alternate version of themselves, they end up somewhere quiet. Lotor’s shop is destroyed. This seems like the end of the road.

Keith makes a plead to Lotor, one last stand. Lotor Denys him and tries to jump one last time. When they follow him, he isn’t on the other side.

The go back.

Unfortunately when they do, the forces have stopped fighting and time seems to have slowed greatly. Voltron is badly damaged and they all split apart.

The team lands together. Harsh winds battle ahead thankfully the lions somewhat stop this.

They’re all scared.

The battle above is at a standstill, shots caught in mid air, shuttles paused mid explosion. The faces of both friend and foe paused in a climatic battle.

The large, white wholes keep getting bigger.

Shiro looks to them all.

They all agree that they feel the same thing. The silently look around at their lions and at one another.

They hold one another tight as their lions are sacrificed to stop this.

A second later there’s no wind.

They look over.

In the vastness of space, the fighting has stopped, everyone shocked by what just happened.

Voltron is no more.

They get picked up by the Atlas

We see a planet that everyone lands on.

Somehow despite all this, at least for a second, the world is at peace as soldiers care for one another and count the wounded.

Team Voltron, now joined by Allura and Coran stand alone

There’s talk of what could be done, and what is now down.

They all smile and reminiscence

Someone calls for them. Team Voltron

They don’t need to have the lions to still be a team.

The universe doesn’t need them anymore. .

Lance and self esteem

Shiro and Lance finally have that talk at some point in mid season 8.

Shiro points out to Lance that everyone lived with Shiro every day. That they spent practically every waking moment, that they shared almost everything

Lance feels a little better and with this talk with Shiro it properly solidifies Lance’s faith in himself. He feel confident in his ability as a paladin, and as his own person. He’s the blue paladin. The sharpshooter. He doesn’t need to be anyone else.

Shiro and Lance have a hug, and Shiro thanks Lance for being there for him when he really didn’t have to be. They stay like that for longer than they really need to.  

Allura the commander

Allura feels useless coming along with the paladins and Coran, he also laments that he doesn’t have the faintest clue what to do with himself.

Thus presented to them, early in this season a mech from one of the few people who are willingly to support them at the beginning.

Allura has been a commander the whole way through but in this season we see her, independent of Voltron, become that commander.

Allura’s people are alive, a few hundred of them. But alive. She becomes their ruler, and takes her rightful place as their queen, helping guide them through an unsteady time.

Keith and Leadership

Through this season we see the meeting place of Keith’s search to be a leader, and his search to learn about his Galra heritage.

Many Galra begin looking to him, despite his less than Galra apperance. He builds more connections with many Galra through his season, and with the help of his mother converts a lot of Galra to seperate from the empire and Lotor and join the coalition

With Lotor dead. We see Keith at the Kral Zera and he becomes the leader

#voltron #vld #voltron legendary defender

[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 2: First Sight

Lance sees Keith for the first time. It’s not as horrible as he expected... At least, not in the way he expected...

Note: This fic is 100% free from underage/ non-consensual sexual activity

First   Previous   Next

Adam, Lance’s attendant, opens the doors to the throne room with all his usual flair. “Presenting Emperor Zarkon and Empress Honerva of House Diabazaal, Prince Lotor and Princess Allura of House Daibazaal, Lord Yurak of House Kogane of Daibazaal, and Captain Takashi of House Shirogane of Daibazaal.”

And they enter. Adam leads them up the long blue carpet to the dais. Lance registers a frown when he meets his attendant's eyes. He raises a silver eyebrow. When the Altean reaches the dais, he whispers up to him, "Oh you'll see in a moment. You're gonna love this."

Lance finds his sister first, bypassing the Imperial couple -Who cares?- in favor of Allura. Beautiful, with the same silver-white hair as the rest of their family and her husband, Lotor. The other half of their parents’ bargain. Allura is already looking his way, beaming, delighted to see him. It’s been a deacphoeb since Lance has seen her. He wishes Romelle had been permitted to come, but she's not technically royalty. Not yet... Allura and Lotor really need to get on that.

Prince Lotor catches his eye and winks, grinning. Lance manages a small smile. Lotor can -and does- come off as smarmy, but the man has his moments. In the past year, the two princes have struck up a correspondence, already preparing for when they succeed their fathers. They’ve become fast friends.

And then... Lord Yorak. Smaller than most of his kind, shorter, more slender. Soft-looking violet fur, a long tail, feline ears poking out of thick black hair hanging in a braid down his back. The Galra’s eyes catch his attention: glittering like amethysts, there’s an intensity in them that makes Lance shiver. It scares him more than any physical threat the Galra might pose.

He wears Altean clothes, much the same as Lance's, though the detailing is black, red and gold. His gossamer cloak is red. His gloves are missing. The poor seamsmaster has already come to the Kings, crying about the future prince defiling their work.

Lance isn’t sure what to make of it.

Lord Yorak is positively diminutive compared to his companion, a mountain of a Galra, a wall of muscle and grey eyes staring directly at Lance. Lance notices how Adam edges closer to him when Captain Shirogane approaches. Apparently his attendant finds him scary too.

“Alfor, Coran, my old friends,” Emperor Zarkon booms, breaking Lance’s focus. “It’s been too long.” Alfor beams as if they hadn’t grown up learning how best to murder the other’s species. Lance knows from personal experience that they had. Milophoebs of war will do that. Looking to Lord Yorak again, Lance can still remember his lessons on where the Galra’s vital organs and major blood vessels are located. A part of him fears it might still come in handy.

“Welcome, Zarkon. It’s wonderful to have you all here. Truly, a day for celebration. Allow me to introduce my son, Crown Prince Lancel of Altea.” They’ve already met, but last time, it hadn’t been about him. It had been about Lotor and Allura. Now, his presence genuinely matters. Briefly. Only until the transaction -marriage- is complete.

Zarkon smiles. “Crown Prince Lancel, it is an honor. I know it is late, but allow me to say happy birthday. I hope you found your gift agreeable.” Lance came of age only a movement ago.

“Very much so, Emperor Zarkon.” Lance draws up a small smile, thinking of the fine bow and quiver of arrows in his room. “It was a wonderful gift. I hope to go hunting soon. I’m afraid I’ve been too busy to put it to use this past movement. I’m sure you can understand.” The emperor inclines his head graciously. He understands. A royal wedding requires an absurd amount of fanfare, pandering, and nonsense. “You have brought strangers to our hall. Would you be so kind as to introduce us?”

“Ah, yes. Forgive my negligence. However, if it is acceptable, I’d like Lord Yorak and Captain Shirogane to introduce themselves.”

“Yes, of course. Please, young Lord, step forward,” Alfor says. Lance wonders how his father speaks with such authority. Lance still sounds like a boy. He still feels like a boy. He’d become a man a movement ago.

The imperial couple steps aside, Lotor and Allura following suit with a wave and a smile, and the young lord approaches the dais, followed by the Captain.

Lance’s insides twist. The closer the lord gets, the smaller he seems to become. He’s actually a spot or two shorter than Lance himself. Not yet full-grown. Brutally young. He can’t possibly be of age by Galra standards. Likely only just barely by Altean standards, like Lance himself. Lance watches the intensity in those eyes fizzle out, fear taking its place, making him look even younger. The Galra’s eyes flicker up to him for a moment, and Lance tries his best for a reassuring smile. It’s okay. I’m scared too. I don’t blame you for this. Lance is about to marry this boy. A boy .  A kit . He feels sick.

The smile seems to work, for a second later the lord composes himself, that fire returns, and he drops to one knee. The captain does the same, kneeling to the right and behind. They both place their right fist on their breast.

“Crown Prince Lancel of Altea, I am Lord Yorak of House Kogane of Daibazaal. It is a joy to finally meet you. Princess Allura has told me many wonderful things.” His voice isn’t terrible: quiet, maybe a little disused, flat. But there’s something in it that Lance finds pleasant.

“It is a joy to meet you as well, my lord. Whom have you brought with you?”

“This is Captain Takashi of House Shirogane of Daibazaal. I have brought him here with me as my familial witness in the absence of my mother. He is unrelated by blood, yet I do consider him my littermate. I pray you will find this agreeable.”

Lance slides his gaze to Alfor, who stares straight ahead, but flicks his hand. Lance understands. This is his decision. The one choice he might realistically get for himself today. And it’s still not much of a choice. He won’t make this kit stand by himself to be wed to a stranger in a strange land.

“Of course this is agreeable, Lord Yorak. Anyone that you consider family is by this day family of mine. You may both rise, and be welcome. You need never kneel before me.” Out of the corner of his eye, Lance sees Alfor nod, not in approval of Lance, but giving the men permission to do as Lance bids. Power is an illusion.

“Perhaps we might continue these salutations elsewhere while we have some time,” Coran suggests, speaking for the first time. Lance can hear the frown in his dad's voice. He glances to Adam, who meets his gaze, then gives Keith a pointed once-over. Lance nods. He sees it. He's noticed.

His future spouse is not ready for what's about to happen to him, but it's going to happen anyway. Immediately, a thousand thoughts and ideas spin themselves up in Lance's head. He imagines what his spouse will endure tonight at the banquet, how he will react to what is expected of them. He searches for work-arounds and way-outs. He needs to speak to Adam.

Keeping himself safe is not longer Lance's concern. His concern is this kit that is about to become his spouse.

"Prince Lancel?"

Lance starts, turning to his frowning fathers. "Yes? I apologize. My thoughts were elsewhere."

"We would like to take these salutations elsewhere. Is this agreeable to you?"

"Of course." Lance inclines his head, more than happy to get Lord Yorak away from the nosy courtiers.

“The drawing room is ready, your Majesties,” Adam confirms from his place beside the dais. Later, Lance will lead the future Galra Prince of Altea up the steps of this very dais, symbolizing his ascension into the royal family. Lance grinds his teeth. He is Crown Prince of Altea and this is his duty.

He meets the burning gaze of Lord Yorak, and the Galra nods, affirming that he is here, that he can handle what is about to happen. Lance can only hope the kit is right.

#LoveAftertheFact #LAtF #klance #galtean au #altean lance #galra keith #adashi #altean adam #galra shiro #voltron legendary defender #vld

[voltrontranscript]

VLD S8E9: Knights of Light, Part 1

Season 8 Episode 9: Knights of Light, Part 1

Transcript by @dragonofyang

Summary: After taking the dark entity within herself, Allura discovers she’s now mentally linked to Honerva. Using this connection to reach into Honerva’s mind with the help of the other paladins, they discover that there are more ghosts haunting her than they realized.

[Google Doc]

Honerva’s Voice: Allura. Allura. Allura. Allura… Allura!

Lance: Allura, are you okay?

Allura: What’s going on? Where am I?

Coran: You’re in the medical bay.

Lance: When we got back from Clear Day, we found you collapsed on the ground.

Coran: You’ve been asleep for two quintants. The entity, it’s missing. Did you…?

Allura: I did what needed to be done.

Coran: No.

Lance: What needed to be done? What are you talking about?

Allura: This entity, it is connected to Honerva in some way. I believe we can use it.

Lance: Use it? I…

Coran: I swore to your father that I would look after you, but I fear I may have let him down. This is the path of darkness.

Allura: It is the path toward defeating Honerva.

[Scene change to Shiro approaching a door, where he is greeted by the paladins.]

Shiro: You wanted to see me?

Pidge: We’ve been working on something, and we thought we’d run it by you.

Keith: We think we might have a way to find Honerva.

Allura: The entity has bonded me to Honerva. The link is there whether we utilize it or not. I believe that if the Paladins connect using the shared consciousness of Voltron, we may be able to travel through the void and into Honerva’s mind.

Pidge: That could, in theory, give us access to her physical location, as well as key information on how to defeat her.

Hunk: Which, after what happened the last time we faced her, could be super useful.

Keith: Honerva is capable of creating galactic Komars, wormholes, robeasts, and now Lotor and his mech are out there somewhere. She is the single greatest threat the universe has ever faced, and we don’t have any other leads. It might take lifetimes for another opportunity like this to come around. We think this is worth the risk.

Shiro: I spent a lot of time in the infinite void. It took all my strength not to lose my sanity. And if you face Honerva in the void, she will win. But, if you can find a clue that leads to defeating Honerva and Lotor, it could give us the upper hand in this fight.

Lance: I don’t like the idea of using Allura like this. We’re messing with powers we don’t fully understand that have ruined countless lives. It’s… it’s dangerous.

Allura: Lance, we’re the Paladins of Voltron. There’s no one more capable of taking this on. It has to be us.

Lance: Let’s do it.

Allura: Besides, the team will have our sharpshooter there to keep us safe.

Lance: I knew that nickname was gonna catch on one of these days.

Coran: It’s been a long time since it was only the seven of us in a room together.

Keith: Let’s make sure it’s not the last.

[Cut to Keith in Black Lion as Voltron powers up.]

Lance: Allura, are you okay?

Allura: I’m fine.

[Scene change to Veronica on the bridge.]

Veronica: It doesn’t seem fair that he won with a robot arm.

Iverson: Ah, almost everyone had a robot arm. The last guy had two robot arms.

Shiro: The lions are launching. Put the Atlas on high alert. Iverson, power up the Atlas’ weapons. Veronica, make sure the shield system is go.

Veronica: High alert? What’s going on?

Shiro: We’re just being careful. The Atlas needs to be prepared for any eventuality.

[Cut to Allura in Blue Lion.]

Allura: It is time to begin.

[Scene change to the astral plane.]

Hunk: Now what?

Keith: Allura, do you feel anything?

Allura: We must travel through that light!

Hunk: It looks so far away. How do you know?

Allura: The entity draws me toward it!

Lance: What is this place? It’s like… it’s like I can hear what the universe is thinking.

Pidge: Remember how the Olkari told me that everything is made of the same energy? I think it has something to do with that.

Hunk: So, thoughts are linked across some kind of, what, cosmic connection?

Keith: Yeah, but I think we are the thoughts inside a network of other people’s thoughts.

Lance: Oh, this is making my head hurt.

Hunk: Yeah, I’m actually with Lance on this one.

Allura: If we are to--[screams]

[Cut to the Atlas bridge.]

Coran: I’m detecting fluctuations in Voltron’s energy signature. Should we do anything?

Shiro: Hold.

[Cut back to the Paladins in the astral plane.]

Lance: What was that?

Hunk: It felt like cold water running down my spine.

Allura: That was Honerva.

Lance: What?

Allura: The entity inside of me is connected to her.

Hunk: Wait, then why did we feel it?

Keith: It must be because we’re all connected through Voltron.

Allura: Yes. The psychic link between us is now shared with Honerva. The closer we are to her, the stronger that link.

Lance: This is too dangerous. Honerva is gonna use the connection to find us, to find you.

Allura: No, this is how we are going to find her, but first, I must learn how to utilize this energy to do so.

Keith: This isn’t just on you now, Princess. We’re all in this together. Maybe if we concentrate, we’ll be able to feel her energy. Then we can track it back to its source. Let’s all focus.

Hunk: This is awesome!

[Scene change to a wide starry scape with two planets visible as Voltron flies by.]

Hunk: I can feel something, like an energy inside me.

Allura: It’s the entity.

Lance: This feeling, it’s like…

Keith: Like a dark realization washing over.

Pidge: It’s like we’re being pulled by a tether connected to our souls.

Allura: We’re getting closer. This way.

Hunk: Is this Honerva’s mind?

Allura: It’s on the other side of this wall.

Pidge: What is this?

Allura: It feels like… like these are the souls that Honerva has defeated and corrupted. It’s terrible.

Hunk: Of course we’re gonna have to get on the other side of the--what?

Pidge: Allura!

Keith: Come on! No! Come on!

[Scene change to Pidge inside Honerva’s mind, a green and black plain lit by stars.]

Pidge: Guys? Where am I? Guys, do you copy? Guys?! Team, can you hear me?

[Cut to Hunk inside Honerva’s mind, a yellow and black plain lit by stars.]

Hunk: Hello! Anyone?

[Cut to Lance in a red and black plain lit by stars.]

Lance: Team! Something severed our connection!

[Cut to Allura in a blue and black plain lit by stars.]

Allura: Paladins, respond! Why can you not hear me?

[Cut to Keith, on the black plain that shields Honerva’s mind.]

Keith: There has to be a way in. I can’t feel them.

[Cut to Pidge.]

Pidge: I can’t even feel my lion!

[Cut to Hunk, then Allura.]

Allura: Paladins! I will not let you hurt us any longer! This is some kind of horrible ruse and you will pay dearly for it. Time to end this!

[Flash back to the Castle of Lions armory.]

Alfor: Your suits of armor.

Trigel: They’re incredible.

Zarkon: We will be a force to be reckoned with in these armaments.

Gyrgan: They stretch, right?

Alfor: Yes, Gyrgan, they mold to fit their paladin.

Trigel: When will your wonders end, Alfor?

Alfor: Interesting you should mention that. I have one more piece of equipment for all of you.

Zarkon: What are they?

Alfor: I call them bayards. Now, each bayard is crafted with a small fragment of the comet’s ore.

Zarkon: With this much power, we will be unstoppable.

Alfor: They can create powerful weapons, but they can also act as a key bridging a paladin’s essence with their lion. Only so long as we fight together as a single unit. To defend the universe.

All: To defend the universe!

[Flash forward to return to Allura and Blaytz in the blue and black plain of Honerva’s mind.]

Allura: It’s really you.

[Cut to Pidge and Trigel in the green and black plain.]

Pidge: Your soul! Honerva must have--

[Cut to Hunk and Gyrgan in the yellow and black plain.]

Hunk: --trapped you here somehow! Please, I don’t want to fight you!

[Cut to Lance and Alfor in the red and black plain.]

Lance: Please! Remember who you are!

[Cut to Allura and Blaytz in the blue and black plain again.]

Allura: Blaytz, please.

[Flash back to the Castle of Lions on Altea.]

Alfor: Make no mistake, Zarkon is coming.

Trigel: Then we use the lions, fight him until our last breath.

Alfor: I am not certain we can win this fight. We cannot risk Voltron falling into his hands. We will utilize our lions to seal the Black Lion. Once we are done, we will send our lions as far away as possible. Coran, you and the Castle of Lions will take the Black Lion away.

Coran: You would have me leave your side at the very end?

Alfor: No. I would have you stand by my daughter’s. I am entrusting you with what is most precious to me in this entire universe, Coran.

Coran: It will be my greatest honor.

Gyrgan: Then it is decided. We go into battle together, one last time.

Alfor: To defend the universe.

All: To defend the universe.

[Flash forward to Trigel and Pidge in the green and black plain.]

Trigel: What… Where am I?

[Cut to Hunk and Gyrgan in the yellow and black plain.]

Hunk: You’re in the void just outside of Honerva’s mind. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true.

[Cut to Blaytz and Allura in the blue and black plain.]

Blaytz: Are the visions from the lions true?

[Cut to Alfor and Lance in the red and black plain.]

Alfor: Has it really been ten thousand years?

Lance: It has.

[Cut to Hunk and Gyrgan in the yellow and black plain.]

Gyrgan: It saddens me greatly to learn that Zarkon wreaked such destruction in our absence.

Hunk: But not completely. Voltron was reformed and the Paladins fly together again.

Gyrgan: I have always believed that unity is where true power comes from, and true unity can only be born of love.

[Cut to Trigel and Pidge in the green and black plain.]

Trigel: I can’t tell you how much it warms my heart to know that someone so connected to the world around her is piloting the Green Lion. My race believes observation to be the most revered attribute. It is where intelligence is born. And for you, it is where it has thrived. The infinite abilities of your mind dwarf the smallness of your size. The Green Lion could not have found a more perfect Paladin.

[Cut to Blaytz and Allura in the blue and black plain.]

Blaytz: People often overlooked me because I was different, but the Blue Lion recognized something in me, something others couldn’t see. It saw the greatness within that even I did not. You, Allura, have greatness within you, as well. You’re so much like your father, and yet so different. You’re a remarkable person. Thank you for saving us.

[Cut to Alfor and Lance in the red and black plain.]

Alfor: Through the lion’s bond, I could feel your love for my daughter.

Lance: I could feel yours, as well.

Alfor: As Paladins, we face many quests throughout the cosmos, but the most amazing journey is that of life. And the biggest question you face is who to go on that journey with. I’m glad my daughter chose you.

[Cut to Keith on the black plain at the boundary of Honerva’s mind.]

Keith: Please. You’re back. You guys are alright. Wait, are they the…

Pidge: Yep, the original paladins.

Alfor: Allura! It is fitting that I would find what is brightest to me in the darkest place.

Allura: All that I have done, I have done to make you proud.

Hunk: Their souls were trapped by Honerva’s dark magic. When we came near Honvera’s consciousness, our connection attracted them to us. Crazy, right?

Pidge: But we used that connection to free them. The lions created a bridge, sharing old memories with new.

Alfor: What’s going on?

Allura: Honerva’s connection grows. We are very close to her now.

Alfor: You hold a dark entity within you. Don’t you know how dangerous that is? That’s what led to Honerva and Zarkon’s end.

Allura: I know the danger, but now I have the power to stop Honerva. You had to make a difficult choice in war by sending the lions away. I also had to make a difficult choice. I’m not going to be afraid to use the power I have. We need to continue.

Lance: But how do we get past the wall?

Allura: It’s… it’s like I can feel her thoughts. The way through is with the darkness.

Alfor: Honerva went mad, obsessed with darkness and power.

Allura: And now, we must enter her mind.

End.

#vld #voltron #transcript #allura #lance #pidge #hunk #keith #shiro #coran #honerva #zarkon #alfor #blaytz #trigel #gyrgan #iverson #veronica

[kumeko]

A/N: For the Across the Universe Zine! I actually made this as a companion piece to go with another Mahabharata!based Voltron piece, but this one is getting posted first hilariously.

Summary: Rage was easy. Keith had a lot to be angry about: the war looming over his head, Allura’s futile peace talks, Shiro’s inability to blame any of the gods for what happened. Yet, when Shiro took his hand, it was hard to be anything but grateful for this last moment alone together.

…

…

…

…

“This was the worst plan,” Keith bit out, pacing back and forth on the red stone floor. The cool stone did nothing to reduce his temper, his irritation spiking with every turn he made. As his footsteps echoed in the vast chamber, the domed roof echoing every noise, he barked at his partner, “We shouldn’t have agreed. I shouldn’t have agreed. We all know how this is going to end and we still did it.”

 “Is it really that bad?” Reclining on a pillow on the ground, Shiro watched him with an amused grin. Dressed in cool silk, his expression serene, Shiro looked practically unflappable. With the plates of fruit and fancy dishes around him, he looked like he was at a picnic instead of at a strategy meeting. One would be forgiven for not thinking a war was taking place the next day. That Shiro would be at the forefront of that war. Remaining calm was what a leader was all about, but Keith wished that sometimes Shiro would show his true feelings more. At least to him, if to no one else.

 There was no way he could actually feel that calm. No one could.

 “Of course it is,” Keith snapped, displeased. “They’ve done—” His expression softened as his eyes fell on Shiro’s right arm, on the marks that lined his flesh, and he quietly added. “You of all people should know that.”

Picking up on his emotions, Shiro rubbed his arm for a long moment. “They have done a lot.” He stared at his arm contemplatively before turning back to Keith, a reassuring smile one his face. “Still, it’s worth a shot. It could prevent the war.”

 “Sure. If she wasn’t talking to Lotor of all people,” Keith growled, crossing his arms. Was he the only one who thought this plan was terrible? Well, maybe Lance had agreed with him, but that thought didn’t comfort him at all. Of all the people to be on his side, it had to be the moron. “He’s not going to change his mind. He doesn’t back down from anything. He doesn’t even compromise.”

 “You don’t know that,” Shiro disagreed, pursing his lips. “Allura is pretty persuasive. If anyone can convince Lotor, it’s her.”

 “If anyone could, sure. But no one can. Otherwise, we wouldn’t even be here in the first place. There wouldn’t be a war.” His feet continued its steady pace, treading and retreading the same path. Despite this being a minor palace, the rooms were larger than he was used to. Mirrors and candles were inlayed in niches in the walls and he could make out his distorted reflection as he marched past them. “This could have all been over years ago.”

 “True, but people can grow. Can change. You’ve already seen it with some of our allies.” Shiro pointed out. Picking a mango slice off a nearby silver plate, he bit into it as he mused, “Maybe Lotor just needed time or a change in perspective.”

 “He needs a new perspective, alright.” Mango juice dribbled down Shiro’s lip and down his neck. The orange drop slid to his bare chest, a trail leading lower and lower and—Keith dragged his eyes away from the drop; now wasn’t the time to be thinking about that. Or about wanting to lic—no, he was not going to think about it at all.  They were strategizing for a war. He had a princess to worry about.

 His lover would have to wait till later.

 God, was it hot tonight.

 Keith cleared his throat, forcing himself back to business. “Those other guys aren’t the crown prince of an enemy nation. He did half the things we’re fighting against.” He ground his heel onto the floor as he paced his quarters once more. Even the huge room, he felt trapped, a tiger pacing in a golden cage. “We shouldn’t have let her go alone. He could hurt her. He has hurt her.”

 Shiro winced at the memory. It wasn’t like anyone could forget it any time soon, the time Lotor had snuck into their ranks and then broken them. It had been an almost fatal attack on their rebellion. “Just…trust her. She’s stronger than you think. She’s half-goddess, remember? That makes her pretty sturdy.”

 “She’s also half-Altean,” Keith pointed out contrarily. “And they’re pretty fragile.”

 Setting aside his peel, Shiro finally got up. Clasping Keith’s hand, he pulled him to a stop. “Come on, if you keep pacing like that, you’ll burn a hole in the ground.”

 “Great, then maybe I can make a tunnel to the Galra and end this war myself,” Keith grumbled, but he didn’t pull away. There was something comforting about the strength in Shiro’s hand, in how firmly his fingers grasped his wrist. It was grounding and he could feel his worry ebb away slightly.

 “Sure. But for now, let’s go the balcony. It’s pretty hot tonight.” Shiro gently tugged Keith, heading to the other side of the room toward the balcony. Thin, gauzy curtains covered the exit, a repellent against the mosquitos and other denizens of the night. Small charms clattered gently as they stepped out into the night air, wards to protect them from the demons and angry gods.

 Keith took a deep breath as they approached the balcony railing. It wasn’t any cooler out here than it was inside. His skin was slick with sweat and even as a night breeze ran over his bare chest, he didn’t feel any better. His red lungi clung to his legs and from the corner of his eye, he caught Shiro discretely fanning himself. There was no relief from this heat, just surviving through it. Maybe if they went up north, to the mountains—but no, even that would have to wait till the war was over.

 It was a strange thought. When the war was over. They had been fighting the Galra for so many years, he’d forgotten what that was like. If only Lotor and his father hadn’t usurped the crown from Allura. Or if the gods, in their fits of whimsy and amusement, hadn’t joined sides, throwing fuel to the fire whenever it suited them.

 A blasphemous thought, perhaps. Then again, Keith had never been one for convention.

 Still, tomorrow was the final battle. The exiled princess would be banished no longer. Whether it was through death or victory, it would all be over.

 “So? Feeling better?” Shiro asked, leaning against the railing. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Smells great.”

 “As long as I don’t smell you,” Keith scoffed, begrudgingly taking a spot to Shiro’s right. Jasmine and Queen of the Night grew plentiful here, in pots and crawling up trellises. In the night, their flowers opened wide, giving the air a sweet, cloying scent. “And it’s still hot.”

 “Well…not much we can do about that,” Shiro admitted sheepishly, scratching his chin. He glanced down. “Seems you’re not the only one restless tonight.”

 Keith followed his gaze to the garden below. Moonlight glinted off the many fountains that dotted the messy garden; Allura liked nature its natural state. Or, as Hunk liked to call it, she didn’t want to waste money on upkeep. Next to one of the many streams, the red tiger quietly prowled, his tail lashing behind him. Nearby, the black tiger kept watch, and Keith snickered. Bonded as they were to these messengers of the gods, it seemed bits of their personalities had rubbed of onto the magical beasts.

 “For something divine, they don’t really feel like it.” Keith commented. Elbow on the rail, he rested his jaw on his hand and observed them. They looked like bigger versions of the pampered palace cats, examining curiously new and foreign scents. There would be plenty now, with all the reinforcements they’d called.

 “Colours aside, they look just like normal tigers.” Shiro leaned forward, gazing at them with pure wonder. Despite all that they’d seen, all that they’d gone through, that aspect of him didn’t change. He was pragmatic but still optimistic, always believing in the best. It was something Keith loved and worried over. “I wonder sometimes, if we act like them or they act like us.”

“If it’s the first, that’d explain why Lance is a little smarter,” he commented snidely, a mocking smile on his face.

 “Keith,” Shiro admonished, but his tone was entirely ruined by the smile he fought down.

 With a careless shrug, Keith muttered, “You think it too.” He raised a brow, daring Shiro to refute him. “Right?”

 Shiro stared at him a long moment. The corner of his lips twitched, a laugh threatening to emerge, and he quickly forced his gaze away. “Lance has his strengths,” he answered, his voice cracking slightly as he tried to control his emotions. “He’s saved you a few times.”

 Keith didn’t say anything, a scowl forming on his face. There were things better left forgotten or, barring that, unsaid.

 “He did, didn’t he?” Shiro teased, leaning closer. There was a light lit to his voice and he rested his head on Keith’s shoulder. “You remember, right?”

 “A few,” Keith reluctantly admitted, spitting the words out like they were poison. “But don’t ever repeat that to him. Can’t let his big head get any bigger.”

 “I won’t.” Shiro promised. It was completely unconvincing considering how much he was laughing. “You two are at it like monkeys.” He took a deep breath, calming down. With a serious expression, he added, “Just don’t let it get in the way on the battlefield.”

 “I won’t.” Keith shrugged nonchalantly.

 “You’ve said that before.” Shiro stared at him doubtfully. His brow furrowed. “Several times, actually.”

 “And I mean it every time,” Keith muttered, moodily leaning forward on the rail and resting his head on his hands. “You didn’t make him promise.”

 Shiro stared at him a long time before giving up with a sigh. “Just make it through tomorrow in one piece, okay? I know you two can work together that long.”

 Keith glanced at him, then away. To be quite honest, he wasn’t sure anymore how much he hated Lance. Part of it felt more like he was going through the motions, clinging to a disgust he no longer fully felt. And then at other times, Lance would do something idiotic and he felt entirely justified. “I will. I promise. You…you be careful too.”

 “Of course.” Shiro stepped closer, until their shoulders touch. His skin was warm, almost uncomfortably so, but Keith didn’t step away. Instead, he leaned into it. “We promised, didn’t we? I’m not leaving you.”

 “Yeah.” Keith swallowed and looked down, keeping his gaze fixed on the gardens below. “Your arm…it feels so real.”

 “It does.” Shiro flexed his right hand, his fingers curling in and out of a fist. The whole appendage looked indiscernible from his left arm—from his dark brown skin to his long fingers to even the muscular tone. The only things that marked it as unnatural were the long trellis of red ink that marked his skin, as though henna patterns were permanently etched onto his skin. “It even acts like the real thing. If a bit stronger. The gods were generous when they gave me this arm, though perhaps that’s because Allura had begged them to do so.”

 “Generous?” Keith snorted, standing straight. Even now he could remember how cold Shiro had been, the blood pouring out of his arm endlessly. The colour fading from Shiro’s skin as Allura pleaded with her father to save him. “There’s nothing generous about this. You lost your arm in a war that they started. Because they’re bored. And now we have to fight it and we have to die in it, and for what?”

 “Sacrificing this arm saved Allura,” Shiro pointed out, his voice soft. “And the Galra would have attacked either way. You know Zarkon was gearing up toward it. If he hadn’t, Lotor would have.”

 If there was one thing Keith couldn’t stand, it was Shiro’s kind, patient expression. His gentle words. As though he didn’t feel anything about the loss of his arm. As though it didn’t matter if the gods had started it all, he’d clean it up.

 And he would. That was Shiro—always fixing problems, always taking care of others but never himself.

 “The gods still made this worse than it had to be! They kept poking and prodding where they shouldn’t have, just throwing fuel into the fire.” Keith snarled, tired of it all. The final battle was tomorrow and they might not survive. He pressed his hand against Shiro’s right arm. “Some gift! Even if you survive, they’re taking this back after. It’s only until Allura’s crowned, right? They’re gods, this wouldn’t even mean anything to them, and they still can’t let you have it.”

 Shiro fell quiet, unable to refute his points.

 Maybe they should have gone to the mountains after all. Just stayed away from this whole business of being Allura’s protectors, of following and guarding her throughout her long exile. There had been a moment, when they’d met the tigers, that Keith had believed it was worth it.

 Now, now all he could feel was that it was a trap and he was just another piece on a giant chessboard. They all were.

 “Keith.” Breaking the silence, Shiro held Keith’s hands in his own, gently tugging him toward him. He brushed a thumb on the back of Keith’s hands in soothing circles. “You’re right.”

 Keith blinked, not expecting this admission. He jerked his head back to Shiro. “What?” He had expected an admonishment, a resigned sigh, anything but an agreement.

 “None of this is right and the gods might have just made it worse.” Shiro reached up, cradling Keith’s cheek with his fake hand. It felt as soft as skin, as warm as his other hand, and despite himself, Keith leaned into his touch. “But I can touch you like this again, even if it’s only for a little bit. I saved Allura’s life. And I don’t regret any of it, despite how and why it happened.” He leaned closer, pulling Keith down until their foreheads touched. “I can’t be angry like you. Only grateful.” His thumb brushed Keith’s cheek tenderly.

 “I know you can’t,” Keith softly whispered. It felt as though if he spoke any louder, the moment would end and the war would start. And he wanted more of Shiro’s touch, more time together. It felt like they never had enough time, running from battle to battle. He reached up, covering Shiro’s hand with his own and closed his eyes. “That’s who you are.”

 “Just like I know you’ll never let this go, it’s who you are,” Shiro answered, his voice gentle.

 They stood there, just breathing in and out. Their scents intertwined with that of the night flowers and if there was one thing that Keith was willing to give the gods credit for, it was for creating all of this. For creating this universe, this world, Shiro.

 For Shiro, always.

 A whistling sound carried through the night air and Keith reluctantly pulled away. Scanning the night sky, he could just barely make out the shape of a glowing, white dot approaching them through the air. The white tiger was returning. And with it, Allura.

 “She’s back,” Shiro said, watching as the dot came closer and closer. “I guess we’ll have our answer soon”

 “Yeah.” Keith sighed. One way or another, this was the end of it all. He clasped Shiro’s hand tightly.

 As the dot came closer and closer, Keith could start making out the white tiger’s shape and the faint form of Allura on top. Her shoulders were slumped slightly, the way she always got when she thought she was alone and everything was just too much.

 Bad news, then.

 Keith hated it when he was right.

 When she was close enough to make out her expression, Allura straightened up. Shoulders rolled back, lips pursed, she gave them a solemn nod as her partner soared through the air past them. “We leave at daybreak,” she said.

 No further details were needed. Shiro and Keith bowed slightly as she soared past to her quarters.

 “I guess this is it,” Shiro stated, his expression heavy. He watched as she landed on her balcony and dismounted quickly. When the princess disappeared hurriedly into her quarters, he added, “It ended badly.”

 “Obviously,” Keith snorted derisively. “It was Lotor. There’s no other way it could have ended.”

 “You never know,” Shiro replied half-heartedly. He stared at her empty balcony once more before turning around. “I should check on her.”

 Keith glanced at him. Shiro’s expression was weary and Keith suddenly realized just how much his lover had been banking on this discussion.

 Shiro didn’t move. “She’s probably not taking it well.”

 It wasn’t like Shiro was taking it any better, but for once Keith silenced his caustic tongue. There was a war tomorrow. One or the other or even both of them could die. It was a last night, few hours really at this point.

 The mango juice was still on Shiro’s chest, a dried sticky mess.

 “I should go,” Shiro repeated tiredly.

 “You should,” Keith agreed, taking Shiro’s hand.

 “Huh?” Shiro looked at him in surprise, not expecting this response at all.

 “She’ll need your advice,” Keith continued, gently leading Shiro back into their quarters.

 “I…” Shiro blinked, not sure how to respond. “Yes.”

 “And you have to look your best.” Ignoring his lover’s questioning stare, Keith headed toward the blankets and pillows that made up their bed. Silently, he yanked Shiro down, pushing him until he lay flat on his back. Without a moment’s pause, he straddled Shiro.

 “Keith.” Shiro stared up at him, bewildered. “What are you doing?”

 “Cleaning you up.” Keith leaned forward, a smirk on his face as he kissed Shiro’s lips. “Can’t let you see the princess all messy like this.” He licked Shiro’s chin, the mango juice sweet on his tongue. “Coran’d throw a fit.”

 If they were going to die tomorrow, Keith was going to savour tonight. The gods owed him this much, at least.

#voltron #sheith #shiro #keith #shiro x keith #allura #fanfic

[etherithical]

Pidge Whump Scenarios (UPDATED: Seasons 1-4)

Please do not read this if you faint of heart. I do not want to ruin your life through my cursed Whump scenarios😅😈

Just some ideas if you have writer’s block or want to evolve some of these things for my (or your own/other peoples’) BTHB prompts! I kept them vague so you could add your own things. Most of them are AUs, are Pidge focused (y’all know me), and are placed in the order of the episodes.

Disclaimer: Many of these ideas are heavily inspired by some other amazing Pidge Whump writers out there. While I tried my hardest to keep ideas original and creative, be warned that some stray very close to what is already out there.

Whumpers: -Law Enforcement (considering the prior to Voltron prompt)

-School bullies, gangsters, blackmailers, pretty much any human that sucks and uses Pidge as their punching bag

-Commander Sendak

-Lieutenant Haxus

-Bounty Hunters, although who would want to injure their precious cargo? -Subcommander Ylvik (Note: Lead Galra on Shay’s Balmera. He is not seen on screen, but mentioned when Prorok states that he has command of said Galra’s fleets)

-Commander Prorok

-Macidus and those other Druid creeps

-Chief Information Officer Plytox (Not seen, mentioned)

-Zarkon? (Note: Considering he is more of the kill, no prisoners type of guy, you’ll have to tread carefully with this one. He should have a reason to keep her alive other than “Hey I like torturing young children cuz I’m a creeeeep!”

-Haggar (Note: Another one you should be careful with. While there are a TON of Whump fanfics with her, I don’t see her as really that sadistic. I mean, she interrogates prisoners, but that’s for the Empire’s villainous plans rather than her own personal enjoyment. Again, you’ll need a reason other than she wants to have fun.

-Commander Branko (Commander on Olkarion)

-Unilu traders?

-The Warden from Escape from Beta Traz

-Lotor

-Lotor’s Generals (I think it would be cool to see Narti as the Whumper. Kinda creepy since she can’t see or talks, so she’s just hurting Pidge and saying nothing the entire time)

-Commander Hira and the evil Alteans from the Alternate Universe

-Lambonite Scavengers (Seen in The Legend Begins)

-Evil Matt...? 😏

-Bounty Hunter from Reunion

-Evil AU version of Pidge, resentful of our beautiful girl’s happier life.

-Commander Throk

-General Raht

-Ladnok or Trugg (female Whumpers are 👌)

Scenarios/Prompts:

1. Pidge’s secret about being a girl comes forth before the Blue Lion is found. You can play this idea a bit: Maybe Pidge is arrested, or maybe Iverson doesn’t want to tell the truth about Kerberos, so he takes matters into his own hands? It’s up to you

2. Not a specific episode, but Pidge is made into a Robeast?

3. Fall of the Castle of Lions/Return to the Balmera. Pidge fails to save the Castle of Lions from Sendak. This one could go in several unique ways depending on personal choice. Here’s some ideas if you need some inspiration.

-Haxus defeats Pidge, but instead of killing her, he tortures or maims her.

-Keith and Allura are unable to get in on time, and Sendak has Pidge.

-Sendak convinces Pidge to turn herself into him.

4. Rolo, Nyma, and Beezer take a certain little Green Paladin with them instead of (or along with) the Blue Lion. Hunk is infuriated at the rest of the team for being too trusting, and by doing so letting the Bounty Hunters escape with their friend.

5. Pidge is caught in a rockfall in Return to the Balmera. (Note: Subcommander Ylvik is the name given of the lead Galra on the Balmera, though he is not seen on screen)

6. Pidge catches onto the infected Alfor’s plan. Unfortunately, he gets to her before she can tell the others…

7. Macidus finds Pidge, Lance, and Hunk and takes her with him to Central Command. Now we have both a Paladin and a princess captured! YAY!

8. Voltron is defeated in The Black Paladin and Pidge is the only Paladin left alive. Zarkon chooses to keep her alive (Why? As a pet? To entertain his soldiers? Because one of his subordinates insisted?). Maybe Thace could be the caretaker, sneaking in food and medicine when no one is looking?

9. An idea for Across the Universe: Pidge is injured on her landing on the trash nebula. Nevertheless, she must manage to build the satellite, with a little help from the Green Lion and the trash floofs, of course!

10. Greening the Cube. Pidge is captured during the mission and the Commander (no name given) either makes her his slave, or, due to her unbelievably strong connection to the world around her, experiments on her.

11. In Eye of the Storm, Pidge is hit by one of the lasers in the teludav. While she survives, the hit causes severe damage to her body that can’t be easily fixed, or not at all.

12. Pidge and the Green Lion fall into the acid in The Ark of Taujeer. This one is a good option for Plance, since Lance and Pidge were working together to sew together the planet’s crust.

13. Pidge is captured in Space Mall and sold as a slave by a group of Unilu.

14. There already are some Escape from Beta Traz whump scenarios out there, so this one was a bit of a challenge. One idea is that the Warden catches Pidge while she is hiding under his desk, and forces Lance and Shiro to face an ultimatum: leave Slav, a vital part of the plan to defeat Zarkon with him (and Laika, too!), or leave Pidge, their friend and the Green Paladin, at his mercy.

Another idea is that everyone gets caught. Because Pidge was pretty much the one conducting the mission from the Control Center (and through that, causing all the trouble), the Warden beats her up.

15. Not tied to an episode, but let’s imagine for a moment that for whatever reason, team Voltron believes that Pidge is half-Galra rather than Keith. Pidge, already reeling from the false disbelief, experiences Allura’s racism, which grows increasingly detrimental to her confidence. And, Keith, who knows he is Galra, is unsure whether to tell everyone. I don’t see him as the “I’m afraid she’ll act the same way toward me as she is with Pidge” kind of guy, so you’ll have to get a little creative. Either way, once the truth comes out, Allura is terribly guilty and Pidge is furious at Keith for not saying anything while she suffered in silence.

16.Pidge is hit by the laser-eyed monsters… well, um, lasers in Stayin’ Alive.

17. The plan in The Best Laid Plans and Blackout fails. This one is almost identical to the The Black Paladin idea, except later in the show. I like this one a bit better as the hatred for the Paladins is higher, seen as they managed to get as far as they did, with the downside of losing Thace as caretaker.

18. What if… In Red Paladin, Voltron for some reason was doubtful about the attack of Puig, so Pidge offered to go in by herself (since the Green Lion can turn invisible). While Lotor and the gang expected evidence that there ‘is no Voltron without the Black Lion,’ taking Pidge to interrogate her is an easy alternative. Or, if this one doesn’t excite you, he can capture her when Voltron was set up (since the other Lions and their lack of experience flying leaves for an easy capture on Lotor’s part).

19. Fairly similar to 18. Lotor’s plan in The Hunted to flush out the Lions and capture them one by one mostly or completely succeeds. Either way, Pidge and possibly a few more of the Paladins are captured.

20. In Hole in the Sky, The Alteans attach some sort of alternate version of the Hoktril to Pidge, one that leaves her with free will but the inability to do anything but what the Alteans want. Sort of as a punishment for trying to mess up their plans. This could be a part of a larger plot: Where Commander Hira manages to cross through the wormhole and begins to take over the universe. Maybe an enormous war between the alternate reality Alteans and the Galra Empire could start. Or else this could happen to Pidge when the others are trying to escape and she gets caught and left behind.

21. While The Legend Begins doesn’t give me an AU, an interesting idea came to mind. We know that the original Paladins of Voltron fought evil before the Galra took over the universe. At the beginning of the episode they are fighting Lambonite scavengers. What if 10,000 in the future, they or some other ancient menace came back to exact revenge on the Paladins. And while they can’t hurt dead people, torturing their successors is an easy second best.

22. Let me just spill my Reunion ideas here. For just some general angst, you could just have Matt be dead. Imagine Pidge has been gone for vargas, so the Paladins go and search for her, only to find her literally hugging onto a gravestone, her eyes wide, and when they try to move her she is reluctant to leave her brother’s side and unresponsive when they try to talk to her. She constantly holds on, it doesn’t seem like she recognizes (or cares about) her friends beside her, and Shiro has to drag her out so they can leave. Another option, a darker one, is that the Bounty Hunter wins and takes Pidge and Matt to the Galra. A fun idea to play with, if you ask me. And if you’re willing to go even darker, making Matt evil and having him actually hurt (or… torture) his sister is an idea I’ve played with for the longest time.

23. The Galra catch on to the Paladins’ in The Voltron Show and the ‘propaganda’ it’s spreading. Zarkon or some other Galran in power organizes an attack during one of the performances, when the Paladins are vulnerable. Most of the Paladins manage to escape but Pidge is captured. Or the performances from the Voltron Show create enemies… and people who should definitely be avoided for each Paladin. Pidge is captured off guard by a stalker who wants to make her ‘his dog.’ (If you write this I would rather it not be NSFW. You can be you but please use your own ideas for that)

24. Pidge and Hunk fail to disable the Communications Station in Begin the Blitz. Because of their failure, the Voltron Coalition takes serious losses, and Pidge is brutally beaten as punishment while Hunk is forced to watch. Another one is because they lost Lotor as a bargaining chip, Ezor, Zethrid, and Acxa capture Pidge in order to reenter the ranks of the Galra Empire.

25. Somehow, Pidge is the only survivor in the entire Coalition after the massive explosion in A New Defender. The Galra choose to keep her alive as a prisoner of war… and for some fun. And alternative to this is that Pidge survives and manages to escape the Galra, but is a fugitive of the Galra Empire and constantly in peril of being found… and paying the price

Feel free to use these or change these however you like! I honestly don’t care how you use them; the purpose of this is to inspire you, not hold you back! I’ll update it once I’ve finished rewatching seasons 5-6.

You can request me to do my own ideas for my BTHB card, although I would like to see some of your own personal improvements/additions as well!

#voltron #vld #voltron: legendary defender #pidge #pidge holt #pidge gunderson #pidge whump #pidge whump prompts #pidge whump scenarios #whump #whump prompts #voltron whump prompts #voltron seasons 1 2 3 and 4 #whump-prompts #UPDATED #still hurting my kids... #so yeah

[goldgalaxytea-fanfics]

Forget me not

Rating:  Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen, M/M

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Relationship: Keith Kogane x Lance McClain

Characters: Lance, Lance’s family,  Unnamed generic doctors, Original Therapist character, Keith, Shiro, Hunk, Pidge | Katie Holt

Additional Tags:  Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Memory Loss, Amnesia, Healing, Therapy, Crying, Recovered Memories, Hugs, group hug, Kissing, kissing while crying, Boys Kissing, Langst

Words: 955

Summary:

Lance returned home after he'd been missing for months, except he had no memories of where he had been, or anything before his disappearance for that matter. Though when he slept, his dreams were full of colorful lions, space, and people in colored armor that seemed oddly familiar...

Notes:

I wrote the rough draft for this about a year or two ago and finally edited it last night cuz no matter how many years pass I'll always love Voltron🥺 

It had been a few weeks since Lance had “returned”. At least, that's what everyone told him. His family, his therapist and everyone else he supposedly knew all said the same thing. He'd been attending some kind of space school when one night he just vanished into thin air. But it wasn't just him, two other kids that also attended the school were missing as well. There was no trace of any of them anywhere up until a few months ago when Lance had shown up out of nowhere in his bedroom. At least, everyone told him it was his bedroom. He doesn't remember ever seeing it before. The posters on his walls displayed movies he never watched. The photos beside his bed showed him with people he never met before. The clothes in his closet held outfits he never bought. Nothing in there meant anything to him. Someone could tell him it wasn't his room and he'd believe them without a second thought.

His family, or at least the people who said they were his family, were happy to see him when he appeared. They heard loud noises coming from “his room” and had rushed up to see what the commotion was. They had all stood frozen in shock when they found him stumbling about "his room", confused about where he was. They had all hugged him and cried, but he screamed and yelled. He didn't know who those people were. They thought it was a joke at first, tried laughing it off as some prank he was playing. But as the moments passed and he continued to stare at them in fear, the hard truth finally set in. They had been heartbroken when they learned that he truly didn't remember anything. So they explained. 

They told him about themselves and about his life before he “vanished”. He listened to every word, every story, but a few minutes later it disappeared from his mind like a puddle on a sunny day. Once again he was surrounded by complete strangers and so he started to panic all over again. His "family’s” hearts broke even more. They kept explaining everything to him as they took him to see “someone who would help”. They had doctors look at his brain and what they found baffled everyone. The X-rays showed hundreds of lines all over his brain, skull and neck. There had been a severe amount of blunt force trauma to his head. The Frankenstein monster like healed seams suggested his head was cracked open like an egg.

Yet they had no idea what exactly had caused it nor how he had been able to physically heal from it. The amount of force needed to injure his brain that terribly should've killed him. Or if he was lucky it would've put him on the verge of death. Even then no human technology could've helped in time, he would've died within minutes from the wounds. There’s no way Lance should be alive right now, yet here he was…

That left his “family” even more confused. Where exactly had he gone? What had he done to injure himself so badly? How did he manage to survive an injury that was guaranteed to end him? Their questions were all left unanswered, for the only person able to answer them didn't even know.

They then learned that there wasn't a surgery they could do to help with his memory. There was nothing physical they could fix and magically make better. If his mind was going to heal it would have to do it on its own. The doctor said there was a small chance that with time Lance would be able to retain memories again, and an even smaller chance that he'd remember his old memories. That made his “family” sad, but they were at least happy there was a possibility of getting “their Lance” back. But Lance didn't know what to think of everything going on around him when he woke up on a cold metal table. He was surrounded by people crying their hearts out, scary looking metal tools and people in white coats observing his every move. He didn't know what this place was, or who those people were.

Lance started to scream.

☆☆☆☆

As time went on, Lance started retaining memories. By some miracle he seemed to be recovering. It started with his name, Lance. Then he was able to remember where he was, his house. And then he was able to gradually remember his family, all their names and who they were to him. After that he was slowly able to remember the stories they told him about them, himself and his life before the accident. 

Lance was also regularly going to a therapist (the doctors had suggested it, saying it could help him). He was even able to eventually remember her. She was a woman somewhere in her late twenties with long brown hair styled into a messy bun. Her outfit changed everyday, but her bright red glasses were always the same. Her name was Lilly. Wait, that wasn't right. Lilu. Her name was Lilu. Lance paused, trying his best to remember. That wasn't her name, it was a nickname. The woman said it'd be easier to remember and it was less formal than calling her by her last name. Surprisingly though, the first thing that Lance remembered about her wasn't her name. It was her glasses, or more specifically her red glasses. That was the only thing he was able to remember about her for quite awhile. He'd just refer to her as Red. But that hadn't felt...right. For some reason he felt like the name belonged to someone, or something, else. When he first told his therapist about it she figured the color red must be in some way important to him. Possibly it was the color of someone close or important to him. But Lance didn't know who or what the color was connected to. And that made him upset, yet he didn't even know why 

★☆☆☆

As he got better, he started to have strange dreams. He never remembered them when he woke up, except for a few bits and pieces. Space, lions and people in some kind of colored armor. The one that stood out the most to him was the person in red. Lance didn't know who they were or what they looked like, but he'd wake up feeling like he was forgetting something important. This left him frustrated. He was tired of not being able to remember stuff, even if it was just a dream. 

His dreams continued and it was always the same story. Space, lions, those people, waking up and barely remembering the dream, the feeling that he forgot something important, that person in red… Lance was getting tired of it. He desperately wished that something would change. Eventually, he got his wish.

It had been exactly a year since Lance had returned. Nothing about the day felt different, just a normal Saturday. He woke up to his alarm, his therapist appointment was early today. But when he awoke he didn't scream in frustration like he usually did. Instead he sat there, eyes and mouth wide open in shock. His dream had been different that night. He remembered it, he remembered all of the details, including what the people looked like. Except he didn't know their names. He was upset about that fact, but that didn't stop a large grin from spreading across his face. He was finally able to remember the dream that had been eluding him for almost half a year. Lance jumped out of bed and quickly got dressed, excited to go tell his therapist about what had happened. Lance hoped that this meant he was getting better. He didn't realize it also meant other things...

★★☆☆

He burst into his therapist’s room, excitement bouncing off of him in waves. The door slammed into the wall with a loud BANG. Lilu didn't seem to mind though, she just looked up from the book she was reading (something about Person Jackie and the Olympics? Lance was too excited to really read the title) and smiles at him. 

“You sure seem excited this morning, Lance. What's up?”

Lance grinned. 

“I remembered my dream!”

Lilu set down her book as Lance walked over and got comfy in the chair in front of her desk. 

“Really? That's good, Lance!”

The woman reached into her desk and pulled out a notebook and a pencil. She opened the book and then glanced at Lance, smiling softly. 

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

Lance smiled and nodded.

“So it takes place in space. There's giant colorful lions and they fight a bad guy who's trying to take over the universe.”

His name is Zarkon

Lilu nodded, making notes about what Lance said. 

“Except they aren't actual lions, they're robots. And there's people that fly them. And when they combine together, they make one giant badass robot!”

It's called Voltron

Lilu glanced up at him. 

“Who were the pilots?”

Lance paused for a moment, thinking. 

“There's four of them.”

There's five

“There's three guys and a girl.”

You're forgetting someone

“The leader, he wears black armor and he's very muscular. And he has a robotic arm that's a weapon. How cool is that? His weapon is the ultimate bitch slap!”

This earned him a laugh from Lilu. She silenced herself and gestured for him to continue. 

“He's also the oldest and he acts like he's the dad of the others. He's really amazing! He makes the best leader. Oh! And he pilots the black lion!”

Lilu nodded, “Do you know his name?”

Lance’s face scrunched up. Trying to remember, but finding nothing. His head started to hurt. 

“No…”

Yes

“The only name I can think of is space dad.”

His name is Shiro

Lance stopped trying to remember the name and the pain slowly faded away.

“Then there's this big guy in yellow armor. But he's the good kind of big, like he would give amazing hugs! He's also hands down the best cook ever! He's a really nice dude! He has a big heart. He pilots the yellow lion!”

Lilu wrote some things down in the notebook. 

“Are you able to remember his name?”

Lance's head began to hurt again. 

“No, I can't…”

His name is Hunk

Lance stopped trying to remember.

“Then there's this small girl with short light brown hair, big round glass and green armor. She may be tiny, but she's mighty! You don't want to mess with her. I know from experi-” Lance stopped suddenly, gripping his head in pain.

You know from experience

Lilu put down her pencil, concerned about the boy in front of her. 

“Lance? Lance, are you okay?”

No he's not, he doesn't remember!

Lance stopped thinking and the pain slowly eased away. Lance let go of his head and smiled nervously. 

“Yeah… I'm fine… Anyway, she's super smart and good with technology! And she pilots the green lion!”

Lilu glanced over at him, still concerned about the man before her, but let him continue.

“Her name was K- wait no it's-”

Pidge

Once again his face scrunched up in pain, but he couldn't remember. Lance sighed and stopped.

“And then there's this guy who has red armor-”

Lance's chest hurt.

“-and a mullet. A mullet, can you believe it? But-”

Lance's eyes burned.

“-it looked good on him. He piloted the red Lion. He was my-”

Boyfriend

A choked scream burst from Lance as his face contorted in pain again, but this time it was different. His head wasn't the only thing that hurt, so did his heart. He gasped, struggling to make the pain go away.

Before he knew it there were arms wrapped around him, and without thinking Lance muttered a name he didn't know or understand.

“Keith…”

I'm here, Lance!

Lilu pulled away, her face full of concern. She held out some tissues to Lance. He just stared at her, confused. She put the tissues in his hand.

“Lance, you're crying…”

He reached up and touched his cheek. Sure enough, there were tears. He was crying, and he didn't know why...

“Lance-”

Lance!

Lance jumped, startled from his thoughts. He looked at her, eyes blank, mind racing.

“-who's Keith?”

His boyfriend!

Lance struggled against the avalanche of pain.

“I...don't know….”

You do know!

Lance cried harder, the pain getting too intense.

Lance…

Lance!

Please, you have to remember!

★★★☆

“Please, you have to remember!” He raised his fist, about to slam it into the side of the building.​ “You have to-”

The man’s cry was cut short. He stood there, unable to move, but his mind racing. His red armor shined brightly in the sun.

“Keith…”

He met the gaze of the man in Black armor and glared at him, but then he noticed his face. It was sad, and his eyes were wet. With a start, Keith realized so was his. Shiro cleared his throat.

“I'm sorry. I know you miss him and you're hurting. We all understand​ how you feel…”

Keith let his gaze wander to the other two standing with them. Hunk and Pidge had streams of tears running down both of their faces. Keith choked on a sob as he let his arm fall limp. Shiro released his grip on the Red Paladin's arm. Keith collapsed, sobs shaking his entire body. Shiro caught him before he hit the ground. The older man held him tight as he clung to him.

“Keith… I'm sorry, I really am… but we need to go. He doesn't remember us, we might make things worse for his mind…”

Keith’s sadness quickly turned to anger, an old defense habit of his. He knew it wasn't good for him, but right now he didn't care. He forcefully pulled himself out of Shiro’s embrace.

“How can you say that?!” Keith snarled, barely able to see anything through his tears. “How can you give up on him?! He's starting to remember! He's remembering who he is!! Who we all are!!! How could you just give up on him…”

The end of Keith's yelling turned into a whisper. He blinked the tears out of his eyes, finally able to see clearly again. Shiro was crying just as hard as he was. Keith glanced at Pidge and Hunk, both sobbing as they held onto each other. Keith screamed, his voice strained and pained as he kicked the side of the building. His foot throbbed in pain, but he didn't care at the moment. Keith took deep breaths and stared at the ground. He couldn't meet anyone's eyes.

“I'm… sorry. I shouldn't have gotten mad or yelled I just… it hurts so much I just… I just can't…” Keith trailed off, still refusing to meet their gazes. He saw Shiro approach but didn't move. The older boy put a hand on his shoulder.

“Keith… it's alright. You're upset, I understand what you're feeling… I want him back too, more than anything… but, we can't. We tried our best but he just… he doesn't remember… I'm sorry…” Shiro tried his best to reassure him as he pulled him into another hug. Keith gladly returned it, eyes closing as he tried his best to calm down.

It was a nice moment, until he felt a new pair of eyes on him. Instantly his eyes flew open, worried someone had spotted them. When he found the source his eyes widened, hope daring to raise inside of him again. A few feet away, a pair of bright blue eyes met his.

★★★★

Lance didn't know what came over him. One minute he was doubled over in pain in his therapist's room, and the next thing he knows the pain is gone and he's staring at the people from his dream. He didn't remember hearing screaming from outside, he didn't remember Lilu asking him where he was going, he didn't remember anything about following the strangely familiar voices, but he did remember the people that stood before him. Silent tears flooded his face as he finally remembered everything.

He remembered running away from the Garrison and ending up in space. He remembered Blue, his lion. He remembered becoming the Blue Paladin of Voltron. Along with his friends, the other Paladins. He remembered every fight, every mission, every injury. He remembered how he forgot.

A mission they thought was over, ruined by a surprise blast from a barely conscious galra guard. Keith had been distracted, too busy kissing Lance in celebration to notice. As they pulled back, Lance had seen the blast a second too late. He couldn't push Keith out of the line of fire in time so he switched places with him. The blast destroyed his jetpack and sent him flying over the edge of a steep fall. He had landed head first, skull cracking on impact. The other paladins had managed to get Lance into a healing pod just in time to save his life, but they couldn't save his memories. He had awoken and panicked, not knowing anything at all. But no matter how many times they explained things to him, it would simply vanish from his mind a few minutes later. It had been a hard decision, but they were left with no choice. He was in no state to fight and they weren't able to look after him until he got better. If he got better… So with teary eyes they took him back to his family on Earth. Lance sobbed, how could he forget his family, his friends, his boyfriend?

A hand gently wiped his tears away. Startled, Lance's bright blue eyes meet violet ones.

"Keith!" Lance grabbed the black haired man's face and pulled it to his, smashing their lips together in a messy kiss. Keith jolted in surprise before trying to return it, his broken sobs making it difficult. The brunette pulled away first. "I-"

"Please tell me you remember…" Keith whispered. Words quiet, as if he spoke louder it would cause the man before him to disappear once again. Lance gave a small peck to his cheek.

"I remember everything. I missed you guys, even if I couldn't remember you till now." He said with a smile. Next thing he knew, Lance was being crushed by four pairs of arms covered in suits of armor. No one could tell who's limbs or tears were who's as the five just held each other and cried, so happy to finally be reunited.

"We missed you too, Lance."

Notes:

Fun fact! This was based on a short story I wrote in middle school about a Homestuck fan session involving my friends lol

#klance #klance fanfic #klance fanfiction #keith x lance #keith x lance fanfic #keith x lance fanfiction #lance x keith #lance x keith fanfic #lance x keith fanfiction #keith kogane x lance mcclain #keith kogane x lance mcclain fanfic #keith kogane x lance mcclain fanfiction #keith kogane #lance mcclain #vld #vld fanfic #vld fanfiction #voltron legendary defender #voltron legendary defender fanfic #voltron legendary defender fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #writer

[demiboydemon]

Keitor Month Day Twenty-Two: Library

Notes: Thanks to @lilflowerpot for letting me use some of their headcanons about Galra anatomy and culture for this fic. Also this features Kuron, not Shiro, but Lotor doesn’t know that. #notmyshiro

Lotor took a deep breath to calm himself. Coran had told him that the castle had a library, and that the library was on the left of this floor. What Coran hadn’t told him was how many doors were on this floor to begin with.

Lotor had already wandered into a room with a kaltenecker, a mistake he did not wish to repeat.

‘Maybe this is the library?’ He thought, opening the door. He was pleased to find that this was decidedly a library, but unpleased to see that the paladins were all gathered in the library, around a blazing fireplace.

Princess Allura was sitting next to the black paladin, Shiro. The green paladin, Pidge, typed on an old computer next to the yellow paladin, who Lotor was pretty sure was named Chunk.

Lance was sitting upside down, swinging his feet back in forth in the air. Not coincidentally, no one was sitting next to him.

“He’s just so damn stubborn.” Lance groaned. “It’s not like we wanted him to go and join a secret Galra army!”

“You know Keith.” Princess Allura sighed, “He always does what he feels is best. Never mind what others think.”

“I’m just surprised he took so long to come back,” Chunk said. “He won’t be back for the intel sharing thing until later tonight. I’m making this weird Altean recipe that seems similar to mac and cheese to celebrate. I hope he stays for dinner.”

Lotor was about to ask what ‘mac’ was when it occurred to him that the paladins didn’t know he was there. After a moment of consideration, he decided to see how long it took them to notice he was there without him saying anything as a way to test their observation skills.

“He probably won’t. He never joins in group activities unless it’s training.” Pidge said. “He just stands to the side with his arms crossed all emo and watches.”

“He doesn’t listen to anybody but Shiro.”

“Not even that, lately. Whenever I reprimand him during training he just ignores me,” Shiro complained, shaking his head.

“Are you really that dense?” Lotor chimed in, no longer able to contain his internal irritation at the team’s ignorance.

Everyone in the room jumped up when Lotor spoke.

The princess was the first to recover from the shock. “Excuse me?”

“Well,” Lotor explained, sauntering toward the group. “Either you’re terribly stupid or you’re purposefully judging Keith unfairly.”

“What do you mean?” The green Paladin piped up from their place on a couch. “Judging him unfairly? He straight up ignores Shiro.”

Lotor kept himself from rolling his eyes. “So at least you’re not being cruel, I suppose. Galra, and Keith by extent, will ignore you while being scolded as a sign of submission.”

“Submission?” Shiro asked, “But he’s ignoring me. He’s being disrespectful and sulky. Just like back at the Garrison.”

“Galra are different than humans, socially. I assume that the former red paladin, despite his mixed lineage, is the same. What you see as him being quote-unquote ‘sulky’ is him acknowledging your dominance and accepting the reprimand. By turning his back and looking away he’s telling you he does not wish to defy you. In human terms, it’s closer to an apology than a sulk. Not that you deserve the apology, based on your judgement of him.”

No one said anything for a long moment.

“Oh.” Pidge eventually spoke, “What about the other things?”

Lotor stride over to and sat down next to them. “Other misconstrued behaviors? Well, I assume you’ve misunderstood many of the former paladin’s actions.”

“Why do you assume that?” Lance demanded, looking about as defensive as possible for someone sitting upside down.

“Isn’t it obvious? There’s a reason he left your team and joined the Blade of Mamora.”

Everyone around Lotor grew outraged.

“Hey!” Chunk said, “Keith left for the Blade to find his mom!”

“Don’t assume good know things about Keith that we do not!” The princess yelled at the same time.

“Keith left because he was being stubborn!” Lance yelled a moment later, the same time as Pidge.

“He just wanted to be with other Galra!”

“I find it interesting that you all take such a defensive stance for being completely in the right. Although you are correct in saying I don’t know Keith as you do,” Lotor admitted, “I do what what it’s like to be a hybrid. To be forced into one box when you belong in two.”

“You’re not half human.” Shiro said.

Lotor mentally rubbed his temples, wishing that thinking about it would be enough to ward off his headache. How could the paladins of Voltron, the supposed saviors of the universe (a universe containing so many alien species,) know so little about the people in said universe.

He supposed that the Galra Empire hadn’t known much about hybrids either, but Lotor had, for some reason, expected Voltron to be less ignorant. Especially since they had a Galra hybrid within their own number.

“You are aware that there are more than just Galra-Human hybrids, no?” Lotor said, “I myself am half Altean.”

“You’re what?” Princess Allura all but screamed, shooting up from her seat.

“You’re Altean?” Pidge stopped typing.

“No way you’re Altean!” Lance stopped kicking his legs.

“What is it with you all and shouting things all at the same time?” Lotor grimaced, making a conscious effort not to cover his ears. “Yes, I am half Altean. My mother was Empress Honerva.”

“Your mother was Honerva? As in the scientist who experimented on Diabazol?” Allura asked.

“Indeed.”

Lotor could practically see the gears turning in Princess Allura’s head as she spoke. “I thought Coran and I were the only ones.”

‘If any of you had ever willingly had a civil conversation with me,’ Lotor thought, ‘You would know about all the Alteans.’

“If you’re Altean, why didn’t you tell us earlier?” Lance asked, obviously suspicious.

‘I would have told you,’ Lotor thought, ‘Had you only asked.’

“It’s common knowledge,” Lotor responded instead, “I thought you knew. And I’d remind you to at least pretend to trust me, for the sake of this alliance.”

“Can we get back to the matter at hand?” Chunk said, “We were talking about Keith. Lotor said he did Galra stuff.”

“Yeah,” Pidge said, “What do you mean about ‘misconstrued behaviors?’”

“Well,” Lotor began again, “I believe you were groaning about Keith never participating in activities, but standing to the side. He does this not because he would rather not take part, but so he can have all of you in his sights to protect you from potential threats. For lack of better phrase, he is keeping look out.”

“So... he’s not being a jerk?” Lance asked, resuming his vexatious kicking.

Lotor sighed. “Obviously not. You know, you really should learn more about different species if you wish to be a good advocate for all the universe.”

“What about when he gets all emo and ignores us?” Lance asked, “Since we’re asking questions about the things we hate about Keith. He always make me feel like I’m not even worth the effort it takes to argue.”

Lotor sighed. ‘I suppose I’m the expert on this.’

“Similarly to your misunderstanding about Shiro, Keith isn’t disrespecting you. By ‘getting all emo’ as you put it, he is attempting to de-escalate the conflict.”

“But how would it de-escalate conflict? It’s kinda dismissive in human culture to cross his arms and turn his head all snoody.” Pidge said, computer keys clacking loudly. Lotor wondered if they were taking notes of what he was saying, or if they were simply multitasking. Or perhaps they weren’t paying attention at all, which would explain how they kept asking such redundant questions.

“Crossing his arms makes him smaller, and turning his head, thus exposing his throat, is a sign of trust and loyalty.”

Lotor sat there at least another varga answering questions, some of which’s answers were almost too simple.

“Galra are excessively social creatures. Keith’s emotions bleed out in his every movement.” Lotor said, “It’s not his fault humans only pick up on the aggressive part.”

The paladins all looked to each other, looking for signs that they were somehow in the right. When they found none, everyone looked back to Lotor.

“So you’re saying that Keith is lonely and needs a hug?” Chunk asked.

Lotor sighed. “That wasn’t what I was saying, but I suppose it’s not incorrect. Keith is terribly touch starved.”

“I feel awful,” Princess Allura said. “We know so little about the Galra. I didn’t think our ignorance would affect Keith, since he was raised on Earth. But I suppose I was mistaken.”

Shiro put his hand on the princess’s shoulder. “We didn’t know. We’ll read up on Galra body language and then it’ll be fine.”

Chunk pulled a tablet from his vest. “Keith’s here! Let’s go give that touch starved buddy a hug!”

The paladins ran off, leaving Lotor alone in the library. He smiled to himself. “Oh, beautiful Keith. I do hope he gets the love he deserves.”

@keitor-month-2020

#keitor month 2020 #keitor #we have the power of keitor and satan on our side #lotor vld #kuron vld #keith vld #lance vld #pidge vld #hunk vld #allura vld #vld #voltron #fanfiction

[voyager-into-the-unknown]

The Dumb One

By PlanceGardener21 on AO3

Lance allowed Red to fly on autopilot as the Paladins soared through the void on their long journey home. He leaned back in his pilot’s chair, listening to his teammates’ comm chatter, but saying nothing. Allura was having a discussion with Pidge and Hunk about quintessence conversion efficiency and the necessity of allowing the lions to recharge. They would have to find a habitable planet to land on soon. Keith and Allura had some ideas about which one would be suitable for their needs. Pidge made some quick calculations which she sent to Black Lion, and Keith adjusted their route towards Earth, which they apparently weren’t going to reach anytime in the near future.

Lance sighed. What could he contribute to this conversation anyway? It was like they had forgotten he was even there. He thought about their recent encounter with the mysterious alien entity known to them only as Bob. The dumb one, Lance thought. That’s what he called me, and that’s who I am. Everyone seems to agree on that. He closed his eyes. He just wanted this war to be over. He missed Earth. He missed his family. He could feel the moisture welling up beneath his eyelids. He just wanted to go home.

“Lance!” Hunk practically shouted over his comm. “Are you with us, buddy? You’ve been really quiet lately.”

“Sorry. I must have been napping for awhile.”

“Are you sure you’re awake back there?” Keith asked. Red, the normally the fastest of the lions, had drifted to the rear of their formation.

“Keep up, Lonce,” Allura chided. “You don’t want to get left behind.” After all this time she still pronounced his name incorrectly. At first he thought it was cute, but now it was beginning to get on his nerves every time she said it. Lance pulled a face that he was glad the princess could not see.

That’s just great, he thought. Now, I’m the slow one, too.

“Lance?” Pidge’s voice was more gentle than usual for some reason. “Would you like to play Killbot in tandem with me? It would be a great way to pass the time.”

“How can I play when I’m over here? The game console is with you, Pidge.”

“I’ve downloaded the game’s code into one of Green’s auxiliary computers. I can send a copy of the program to one of Red’s auxiliaries and broadcast a signal link that will allow us to play together in real time. It’ll be fun.”

Lance was impressed. “That must have been a lot of work for you. Why did you go to so much trouble?”

Pidge hesitated. “Well...you did go through a lot to help me get the game in the first place. And even though it’s fun to play alone, I’ve always thought that it’s even more fun to play Killbot with you.”

Lance smiled crookedly in spite of the gloomy mood he had been in a few moments before. “Well, what are you waiting for? Send me the program!” He then grinned broadly in anticipation of another gaming session with Pidge. Somehow, She managed to bring him out of his foul mood with just a few words. He noticed that she did that a lot lately.

“Ugh, can you two put all of your gaming talk on a private channel.” Allura sounded annoyed.

“Will do!” Pidge replied cheerfully. There was a brief burst of static, and then he heard Pidge’s voice on a different channel. “Lance, you there?” He activated his viewscreen.

“Your favorite Paladin’s right here, Pidgey,” he said with a smirk while pointing finger guns at her. “I’m cuter than a yelmor, and I smell better than one too!” He really didn’t know what made him say that, but it made her giggle, so it must have been the right thing to say. It may have been his imagination, but he could have sworn that Pidge blushed a little as she smiled at him.

She typed quickly, then pressed a button. “Sending now. Let me know when it’s finished downloading to your auxiliary terminal. It will take several minutes.”

“Thanks for doing all this for me, Pidge. I really missed gaming with you.”

“l missed you too,” Pidge declared absentmindedly as she studied one of her data screens. “And it was the least I could do for you after what happened on board the pirate ship.”

“What do you mean?”

“Zethrid and Ezor were gleeful about the idea of torturing me, but you wouldn’t let them take me. Even though you were restrained, you fought to defend me, to keep me safe. What you did was selfless, reckless, and very brave. For the longest time I just wanted to say...” Pidge’s voice cracked. Her eyes were shining. “Thank you for that.”

Lance’s mouth fell open in stunned silence. After a long pause, he softly murmured, “No problem.” He watched as she wiped her eyes quickly and swallowed. Lance stammered, “I...uh...I really didn’t have time to think. I just reacted. Someone I care about was in danger, and something inside of me just...snapped. I had to protect you. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I hadn’t done something. Pidge, if they had taken you, if they had hurt you, I—“

She gave him a watery smile. “But they didn’t hurt me. Ezor beat you up instead.” Tears streamed down Pidge’s cheeks, and she wiped them away with the heel of one hand. “If Coran, Acxa, and the mice hadn’t arrived to rescue us, no telling what they might have done to you.”

“It’s all right. I only had a few bruises. I’m fine, really. And if I had to do it all over again, I would.” His face suddenly felt very warm.

She looked at him in astonishment, and then smiled shyly. She was definitely blushing this time, and looking at him with what could only be described as admiration. Selfless, she had called him. Brave.

“I guess you’re my hero, then.” The look she gave him was the softest he had ever seen from her. He was speechless.

It had occurred to him, and not for the first time either, that Pidge was growing up. She was taller now, her hair was longer, the subtle curves of her slight figure had become more obvious recently. There was no way she could pass for a young boy anymore. She’s too pretty to be a boy, he thought, and then suddenly felt warm all over. Where had that thought come from? Pretty. Delicate. Graceful. Brilliant. Sweet. Courageous. Determined. She was all of those things and so much more. And she saw him as a hero. He was her hero.

Hero...How many times had he hoped that he might be regarded as a hero by some attractive young woman? How much time had he spent in idle daydreaming about rescuing a fair damsel in distress who would fall in love with him? How long had he fantasized that one day a girl would look at him the way Katie Holt was looking at him at this very moment? Well, it was time to be really brave then. He looked back at her and said aloud what he had been meaning to tell her for the longest time.

“You—you’re my hero too, you know. You saved me. Remember when Bob put me in that vat of acid?”

“Don’t remind me. That arrogant little creep could have killed you, Lance. I was furious!”

“Yeah, I am not a fan of that guy either. I was so nervous that I couldn’t think straight. Every time I got an answer wrong I felt like I was letting the team down, and I could never forgive myself if we lost because of my stupidity.”

“You’re not stupid, Lance. Don’t ever call yourself that.”

“Why not? Everyone knows that I’m the dumb one. Bob kept saying it over and over, and he’s some kind of ancient being with godlike knowledge and power, so it must be true.”

“That is absolute nonsense. Bob doesn’t know what he’s talking about. And you’re not dumb! I can prove it to you.”

“Good luck with that,” he said skeptically.

“Are you familiar with Howard Gardener’s Theory of Multiple Intelligences?”

“No. Wait, multiple? Are you saying that there is more than one way to be smart?”

“That’s exactly what I am saying. Even before we became Paladins, I hacked the Garrison’s computers several times when I was searching for Matt and Dad. I saved nearly everything I could find that was classified, including data about Shiro, who was missing too, and Keith because of his connection to Shiro. I researched you and Hunk also, since the three of us were training together as a flight crew. I wanted to know everything there is to know about you two. I made a dossier on each member of our team.”

“Yeah, you told us. I mean, normal people do scary stuff like that all the time.” He rolled his eyes.

She glared at him. “Lance...”

“I’m just saying! Look, you got angry at Hunk for being nosy when he tried to get a peek at your diary. In a way, this is even worse!”

“I’m sorry! I was desperate to find my family, okay? And I wanted to know more about you and Hunk. I wanted to know if I could trust you. I entered the Garrison illegally, under a false identity, and sooner or later one of you would figure out that Pidge Gunderson was an alias. If Iverson found out that I was really Sam Holt’s daughter...”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry too. I know you were probably in a constant state of anxiety back then. I honestly thought there was something very weird going on with you all the time, even though I was too dense to figure out that you weren’t really a boy.”

She paused, looking thoughtful for a moment, remembering their time together as cadets. “You kept trying to be friends with me, and I kept pushing you away. I felt terrible about that, you know. I really wanted to be friends, but I was afraid you and Hunk would figure out who I really was.”

“It’s alright, Pidge. I understand why you did it. And I hope you noticed that we didn’t give up on you.”

“I know. You and Hunk were the first real friends I’ve ever had.” She smiled again, her eyes shining.

He smiled back at her. “You and Hunk are like, my favorite people in the entire universe, okay? You’re both so brilliant I often wonder why either of you would want an idiot like me around, unless it’s for comic relief.”

“Lance! Stop that! I already told you, you are not dumb, so stop saying it.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop. What was it that you were saying about multiple intelligences?”

“I have all of your files from our days at the Garrison: standardized test scores, pilot trainee stats, physical fitness data, psych profile, and MI survey results, as well as everyone else’s. We both scored pretty high in Visual/Spatial Intelligence.”

“You have to in order to be a pilot trainee.”

“And to be so great at video games. It’s also necessary to be a skilled sharpshooter,” she grinned at him. “I may be a genius in Logical/Mathematical, but your score in Bodily/Kinesthetic Intelligence is much higher than mine. You also scored really high in Linguistic, Musical, and especially Interpersonal Intellligences. That last one is my weakest area.”

“Wait a tic, are you saying that I’m smarter than you in some areas?!”

“Yes, without a doubt. The data is right here. I can send it to you...”

“No, I...” Lance looked shy all of a sudden. “It’s enough just to know that you think I’m not dumb. I mean, you’re one of the most intelligent people I have ever met, not to mention that you’re one of the people I love most in the entire universe, so your opinion means everything to me. I guess what I am trying to say is...thank you.”

Wait, did he just say love? Out loud?! Oh no, she heard that. That’s why she isn’t saying anything. Idiot. There was an awkward silence between them.

The computer console chimed softly, signaling the download was finished.

“You’re welcome, Lance,” she said carefully. “And I think you should know that even though you are dense as a neutron star about some things, you are brilliant as a supernova in many other ways.” She paused again. “I guess that’s why I love you so much, you Goofball.” She said all of this with a dazzling smile that made his heart beat faster.

Lance’s heart was racing for quite some time, and he could not stop smiling for the next varga or so. He and Pidge became absorbed in excitement of the video game, but in the back of his mind Pidge’s words reverberated through the cavern of his memory, echoing again and again without diminishing in intensity: Selfless. Brave. Hero. You’re not dumb. I love you.

I love you...I love you...I love you. His mind replayed those words over and over as they battled digital monsters. With each victory he felt more confident, more sure of himself. He whooped with unbridled joy when their teamwork took down one foe after another.

He loved her. He knew that now, and he had already wasted so much precious time flirting with girls who really didn’t matter to him. He vowed he wouldn’t do that anymore. They were fighting in an interstellar war that had been going on for thousands of years before they were even born. Who knew how much time they had left? Days, months, years, a lifetime?

A lifetime. He realized at that moment that he could spend a lifetime talking or gaming or just growing old with Pidge. He wanted that, if they survived this endless war. He wanted her.

When they finally landed on the planet that Keith and Allura were talking about earlier, he might be able to walk around with Pidge for a bit and enjoy the fresh air of a planet with a breathable atmosphere. He would try to hold her hand, of course. And, maybe, if he could find a place to be alone with her, he could tell her face to face how he really felt about her. He wondered if she would let him steal a kiss...

“Team, look alive!” Keith’s voice over the main comm channel broke Lance’s concentration. Pidge paused their game. “There’s a renegade Galra battlegroup straight ahead. Incoming!” Galra fighters swarmed around Keith, Allura, and Hunk like a hive of angry hornets.

Quiznak! Well, it was time to put that Visual/Spatial Bodily/Kinesthetic Intelligence to use. Red soared ahead with Green right behind him and Lance opened fire on the fighter drone who was tailing Black Lion. It burst in an explosion of color and light in front of him.

“Nice shooting!” Hunk exclaimed.

“Way to go, Sharpshooter!” Pidge cheered. “That was a genius move.” Was she teasing him?

Lance grinned as he bullseyed another fighter.

#plance #pidge #lance #katie holt #lance mcclain #vld #plance fanfiction #voltron

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten Twice Stupid prt 90

90

“Whoop. Hold up. I’ve lost my chicken fillet again”

“That’s because you keep playing with them”

Sighing at Allura, Lance didn’t know how people controlled their boobs. The fake silicone insert in his bra kept trying to escape off to the side every chance it got

“I’m not trying to play with them, they’re the ones playing with me”

Allura giggled, slipping her arm around his and taking him by the hand

“Just leave them alone. It’ll be alright once we’re sitting down”

“You’re enjoying this far too much”

“Maybe a little. Now please don’t trip”

Having come up to Platt again on the Tuesday, Lance caught up with Allura. He’d wanted to go home that Monday night, so they’d arranged to go shopping together the next day, at smaller shopping centre. Explaining he didn’t know what to wear, Allura delighted in the idea of dressing him up. They could have been twins by the end of it... or somewhat related due to fashion sense. Lance was wearing a long brown wig, brown contacts, and possibly the worst bra ever invented beneath his red dress... that he hadn’t wanted to wear at all. He was a guy... He’d wanted to look manly and shit. Maybe androgynous if he could pull it off? Allura fully jumped on board a complete change in look, Lance’s feet were now crammed into gold high heeled shoes and a dress that aired his junk with each step. His black tiny lace short covered junk that he wasn’t allowed to wear boxers over. At least his bum was covered. One strong breeze and he’d be done for indecent exposure. With the plunging front of the red dress, the bra he had to wear was weirdly shaped tripping down in kind of a U shape, as if the designer had never seen a bra before or didn’t know how the hell they functioned. He’d also been waxed, trimmed, plucked, and “pierced”. Forget laying in the ground for three months, this was the most uncomfortable he’d ever been. The damn fake gold septum piercing was annoying, he kept going cross eyed trying to look at it.

Allura, on the other hand was gorgeous. Her normal long loose white ringlets swapped for a wig very similar to Lance’s. Dressed in a black and red pinstripe skirted suit, she dripped refinement and class. Her accessories all gold, a tasteful dainty little wristwatch on her left wrist, small ruby drop earrings, a gold clutch, and brown contact lenses like Lance’s. None of their friends would have recognised the pair of them... The only one maybe recognisable was Keith, who Lance was trying his hardest not to look at.

Keith... It should be illegal to ooze sex appeal like his boyfriend was. Dressed like the bad boy everyone’s parents warned them about, he looked so damn good in those leather pants that Lance wanted to send him home to change. Muzzled, and on lead, Keith stayed half a step behind Lance and Allura. His boyfriend seemed to be in a mood, his eyes had gone wide at Lance’s ensemble, but that’d been it. He hadn’t commented. They most he’d talked was as Lance adjusted his muzzle and collar to make sure Keith was as comfortable as possible. God only knew how much Lance wanted Keith to bend him over the closest counter and pull his hair... Having a hot boyfriend was hard. Lance knew he didn’t look atrocious as he was. His moves kind of jolted thanks to the stilettos he couldn’t quite operate. On the plus side, if things went south, he was sure his shoes were sharp enough to murder someone touching his boyfriend. He pulled off looking like a girl, which should be a win, and Coran had doused him in perfume to help the natural sweetness in his scent.

Heading over to the bar, the vampire behind the counter had no issues with his teeth and ego hanging out for the world to see. Lance felt nothing for him, which was nice. There were so many scents that something had stuck up his nose and now he worried he was going to pop a semi thanks to a stranger

“Haven’t seen you two around...”

Lance showed his teeth, reminding himself he was supposed to let go of his ego

“We don’t usually like to take our pet out to play, he doesn’t play well with others”

The vampire nodded

“Harder and harder to find a good pet these days. In the market for a new one?”

“Reminding him how lucky he is to be our pet”

“Sometimes they need to be taught the good old fashioned way. What are you drinking?”

“Two Rivata Cassa Rossa. One half and half with A positive. Nothing for the pet”

The vampire nodded, Lance would have preferred to watch the drinks poured, but he didn’t intend on drinking them anyway

“Alright. Take a seat, they’ll be brought over”

Allura picked a booth close to the door so they could people watch, Lance pulling Keith into his lap, possessively resting his hand on the top of Keith’s head. He hated having to talk about Keith that way. Sliding his free hand down, he rested it over Keith’s inner thigh, clearly staking this claim over his boyfriend

“This is nicer than I imagined”

The club wasn’t what Lance imagined either. It kind of reminded him of the speakeasys you’d see in films, other than the electronic music and strobe lighting over dance-floor. Vampire and pets danced, some feeding in their pet as they did. Some other vampires had left their pets to sit on the ground and await their return, a couple of pets sat huddled together in one or two booths. Lance kind of wanted to channel Keith’s bad boy energy and free the pets. Though most pets didn’t have anything in their name or a way to survive without their masters. It was shit. They were fucking people who deserved better. Fucking vampires.

“It’s not what I expected. Do we have any idea what we’re here for?”

Allura shook her head. Stupid Lotor could have given them a heads up

“No. You know, I can’t remember the last time I was in a place like this”

“Does that mean you want to dance?”

Allura giggled, then sobered

“Not quite yet. I’m not sure we should leave our pet alone”

Everyone was listening to everyone else. That’s how these things worked

“If he behaves himself, I might allow him to accompany us. He needs to learn some manners first”

Keith huffed, Lance wished he could take the muzzle off so they could talk properly. Feeling eyes on him, he leaned in, nipping lightly at the top of Keith’s ear, hand sliding closer to Keith’s junk. Keith was his. He felt like he was degrading him, but he had to make sure everyone knew he wasn’t sharing

“I’m sorry”

Whispering it right next to Keith’s ear, he hoped his boyfriend heard. He’d felt so damn stupid about breaking down in Coran’s office that he’d only really talked to Keith in group chat. Matt had tried perking him up when he’d come home, but Lance took himself and his wallowing up to his room, replaying the day in an attempt to reassure himself that Keith hadn’t become anyone’s target. As their drinks were placed down in front of them, Lance broke rules. Other pets had their muzzles loosened, and Keith shouldn’t be punished thanks to their fucked up society. Loosening the front buckles of the muzzle, his boyfriend sucked in a shaky breath, not sure what it was about

“Master?”

A shudder ran through Lance. Keith had to call him that, and his ego approved too much

“You’re my pet. If anyone objects I will remind them I am in control here... plus, it’s stuffy”

“A bit...”

Keith couldn’t talk freely and it sucked. Allura picked up her glass of red wine, grimacing as she took a sip

“I think I’ve got yours instead”

“Swap them over then. I really should have had the first sip, you know”

Allura quirked an eyebrow, moving deliberately as she swapped wine glasses

“Ego?”

“No. Just better at dealing with it if it’s spiked...”

“Ah”

Pretty much. Allura was fae but he didn’t know how that worked. If anything was in there he would be able to taste it. Pulling Keith’s hood up, Lance then moved to lift his glass, his arm around his boyfriend’s waist

“I guess we wait now”

“I’d say so. I wonder what’s going to happen”

When nothing happened after the first half hour, Lance got bored. Allura was doing a good job hiding her boredom, much better than him and Keith. Keith was all squirmy in his lap

“Do you want to sit beside me instead? Or on the floor?”

“It’s hot, master”

“Laura, would you please get our pet a bottle of water? Number two is thirsty”

Allura nodded, sliding from the booth. “Laura” adapted from “‘Lura”. He was “Lana” adapted from Lance... They weren’t terribly creative with names, but easy names were easy to remember. He wasn’t risking Keith by calling him anything close to Keith... and he was a pet... so he was allowed to refer to Keith in such a way... his stupid ego was enjoying itself more than he was. And Keith really didn’t have to keep squirming the way he did. He was basically right up against Lance’s junk... and Lance’s junk knew it

“Sit next to me”

Keith slid from his lap, Lance moving the split in his dress to act like he had some modesty left. Returning with the bottle of water, Allura nearly messed up by going to hand it to Keith. Taking the bottle, Lance twisted the cap off, taking the first mouthful. It didn’t taste tainted. Taking a second mouthful, he pushed his lips against Keith’s, Keith hesitant before accepting, drinking down the offered water. Other vampires and their pets were watching, Lance pulling back to take a second sip, before pushing his lips back against Keith’s. Kissing Keith like this wasn’t common in the club. Someone would have kicked up a fuss if it didn’t risk losing face

“More?”

Keith shook his head, Allura looked ready to gush over them being cute

“In that case you can come dance with us”

Lance got lost in the feeling on the dance floor. He’d loved to dance. He hadn’t had reason to in so long, and it wasn’t something he often talked about, plus he was generally feeling too old and modern music was horrific. Going out to human clubs was better, where he’d dance stupidly with Hunk and Pidge and it was totally fine because they were all as bad as each other and it didn’t matter if he tripped over his own feet. Dancing with Allura, Allura was stiff but she tried. Dance with Keith... Lance wanted to smack him with a piece of wood and tell him to move. Putting his boyfriend’s hands on his hips, he leaned back into Keith’s touch, Allura slinging her arms over their shoulders, leaving him sandwiched between the pair of them, Keith nosing at his neck and Lance hoping his hands wouldn’t wander from his hips.

*

They were still dancing, thanks to half a dozen trips to the bar, when they finally found out what Lotor had sent them there for. Moving from rubbing up against Keith, they’d moved to dancing in a group. Keith had been groped, the vampire snarled at by Lance, fangs showing and nails extending as he let his ego flow. Pulling Keith against him, Lance wrapped his hand around the collar. He knew his scent was coming through the stink of the perfume, because Keith’s hands had been all over his body once his boyfriend finally loosened up. Dancing in a group cooled those feelings, Lance listening to the chatter around them as he alternated between dancing with Keith, and dancing with Allura, and laughing over Allura trying to dance with Keith. Territory stuff and other things he didn’t care for. There was some fighting in the lower ranks. Some of the upper ranks were having trouble keeping face with Lotor around. A lot of general dislike for man. Talk about werewolves causing issues. All this gossip was what Lance thought they were there for... Until Sendak entered the club.

Sendak didn’t do subtle. His scent dropped Lance’s knees out from under him. Within the space of a few moments he’d gone form spinning a laughing Allura, to falling into Keith’s arms. He wasn’t the only one affected. A few other vampires dropped, pets pulled down with them. Other vampires flared their ego. Lance’s ego felt like a pulse. A distinct thudding through his body. Lowering his head in submission, the heel of Lance’s right stiletto snapped, as Keith tried to stand him up, leaving him kneeling on the dance floor. Sendak seemed impossibly massive. Towering so tall he seemed to touch the ceiling. Dressed in a crisp black suit, he wore fur cloak that was fresh out a fantasy movie fastening at the base of his neck. The fur was real, a mottled of greys, blacks and browns tumbling down to Sendak’s booted feet. The vampire didn’t even look the direction of the dance floor as he crossed the space between the front door and a booth towards the back on the right side of the club. Holy fucking shit was his aura strong. Lance instantly sure he was the oldest vampire he’d ever met, or come across. What the fuck was he doing here?!? No one would be game enough to cross him. They all felt like ants under a microscope with Sendak being the heated ray of light threatening to burn them alive if they wandered into his path. Clenching his jaw, the amount of pressure Lance used was hurting his teeth. He was fucking kneeling like a bitch for Sendak.

Shaking her head, Allura seemed to shake herself free of the oppressive atmosphere, before moving to take Lance by the arm, pulling him up to stand properly. Both Allura and Keith were trying to get his attention, but Lance couldn’t focus. Sendak scared the ever living absolute fuck out of him. If he was this bad, he couldn’t begin to imagine Zarkon. Blood hung on the air, dancing threw the air like dust particles, following Sendak’s path. Folding himself to sit, the vampire sat with a hunch, the only sign of weakness he’d shown. This was a man used to taking orders from someone “higher” than him.

Slowly things like the music and the shifting lights finally began to come back to him. His heart beat thudding louder than everything else, and would be for some time. The music might as well be a whisper for all it was worth. How the hell did the Blades think they could kill Sendak? He’d be able to tear a wolf apart with his bare hands... Keith wouldn’t stand a chance. It’d be like him at the hands of Nyma and Rolo. Keith would be the little kid who wasn’t nothing but a bit of strings free fun. Tapping his face, Allura tried to draw his attention, but Lance had no attention left to be drawn. He felt so fucking scared. His body seemed to be getting colder. He couldn’t stand. He couldn’t feel Keith against him... even the pain in his feet had fled in the face of Sendak. Cupping his face in her hands, warmth crept across his skin from Allura’s palms as Lance shivered violently

“We’re leaving. Pet, help your master”

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose

[poor-sickies]

Working on some more requests now but this came out I am sorry  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

*

burning

“Put him down! Get me the disinfectant!”

“Right here, Coran!”

Lance stands still, staring, almost in a haze, as he hears the voices around him blurring into distant screams.

Fifteen minutes ago, he had known to pick Keith up and run to his lion when he saw him on the floor, nearly unconscious, with his chest armour covered in that strange, glowy substance.

Keith’s chest plate was now pretty much eaten away, and it’s not even the corrosive liquid that scares Lance the most - it’s the way Keith wheezed, struggling to breathe, and it’s hard to tell if it was from the pain or from some side effect of it.

Lance had gone limp like he is now after Hunk took Keith off his arms, to carry him to the infirmary. Climbing down his lion’s ramp, it had been easy for Hunk to see Lance was way too distraught.

But now, at the infirmary, Lance can’t seem to be able to get closer to the bed Keith is in, where Coran is quickly cutting away at the remnants of the balck undersuit, showing off the red blisters burnt into keith’s chest.

“Oh man - I - I can’t-”

“Step away, then - Allura!”

He sees Allura step in from behind the cabinets, holding bandages and some white containers, and going to Coran’s side.

“Right here, Coran.”

They’re ripping Keith’s black undersuit all the way to his hips, and Allura moves to hold his legs down.

Keith is still out of it, eyes opening and closing, and trembling with pain.

A warm hand touches Lance’s shoulder.

“Hey, man.”

It’s Hunk, but his voice is tired, strained. Lance shivers.

“I’m gonna take a little break, yeah? Let’s go outside, they don’t need us here, and you probably don’t wanna see-”

“AAAARGH-”

Keith is thrashing on the table, now wide awake, but Allura and Coran hold him down firmly, while Coran dabs away at the blisters with the disinfectant.

“It’s okay, Keith. We’re almost done,” Coran tries to reassure, wiping away the corosive substance from Keith’s chest. “I’m sorry, lad, I know it hurts-”

Keith’s eyes are wide open, and if he was struggling to breathe before, it’s a hundred times worse now. He’s crying openly, sobbing, trying to free his arms from Coran’s graps to hold his own chest, but with no avail.

Lance stumbles closer, despite Hunk’s efforts to keep him away. Kneeling beside the bed, he holds Keith’s right hand, and rubs the inside of his wrist affectionately.

“It’s gonna be okay, Keith. I’m here, just hold on.”

*

Coran stays true to his promise, and it doesn’t take much longer for the toxic substance to be cleaned away.

Unfortunately, Keith doesn’t take very long to pass out, both from pain and exhaustion.

The substance, Coran says, had completely eaten through Keith’s chest plate, and a big chunk of the undersuit, and then went through skin. The blisters and burns will be painful, and would have to heal a little before Keith can go in the cryopod.

“He’ll probably wake up with a bit of a headache as well, but hopefully the burns won’t get infected,” Coran explains, gently tucking a blanket around Keith’s legs.

The rest of the team steps outside, to take a shower and change, as recommended, so that there would be absolutely no remains of the liquid. But Lance is still sitting on the floor next to the bed, unmoving.

“Come on, dude,” Hunk pulls him up, “you heard Coran. We gotta shower. The quicker you do it, the quicker you can be here for him.”

Lance nods, and walks away with Hunk’s help. That is, before he completely breaks down in Hunk’s arms.

*

Admittedly, Lance does feel a bit better after a shower.

Hunk tells him that they had moved Keith to his own bed, and that he seemed to be stable enough.

Seeing Keith in his room makes Lance feel a little less anxious, but it’s still hard to see him like this. He seems asleep rather than unconscious, which is at least a small victory, but still looks too small and fragile, and Lance keeps imagining the red blisters in his chest-

At least now there are clean bandages wrapped around his torso, but some of the burning still peeks out, spreading to his collarbones.

Lance kicks off his slippers and lies down next to him, careful not to touch Keith, and lets himself rest a little.

*

“Hng- ugh-”

Lance opens his eyes and turn to the side.

“Keith?”

Keith is half propped up on his elbow, eyes squeezed shut in a grimace as he clutches his chest.

“Hey, hey, calm down, don’t move too much,” Lance says, placing a hand on Keith’s back and gently guiding him back down.

Keith groans. “The acid…?”

“Yeah. Got you in the chest, and you gotta let it heal for a couple days before cryo healing.”

Keith closes his eyes, and lets himself lean against Lance, who puts an arm around him to stroke his hair.

“How are you feeling?” Lance asks, finally, with a soft voice.

“It hurts,” Keith admits, and his voice cracks a little, “feels like my chest is burning. My head hurts too.”

“I’m sorry,” Lance says. He’s always a bit thrown off when Keith is this honest with him about how he’s really feeling. It’s good, because it’s something he’ s been trying to get Keith to work on, but still worries him, because it means Keith has no energy whatsoever to pretend it’s not bothering him.

“I can go check if Coran has something-”

“No,” Keith interrupts, and grabs at Lance’s arm weakly, “no, don’t go. Just stay with me.”

“O-kay,” Lance answers, a little surprised. “Okay, I’ll stay. I won’t leave.”

Keith buries his head into Lance’s shoulder and nods, letting Lance pet his hair softly. Lance chuckles a little, somewhat amused by Keith’s sudden want for affection.

Once again, he wishes Keith straightforwardnes had come in a more pleasant situation. Right now, he’s just hurting and craving physical contact, so Lance vows to give it to him.

“Damn, you must be feeling really terrible,” he comments when Keith grabs onto his t-shirt too. He doesn’t answer, and keeps breathing against Lance’s neck, not as quietly as Lance would like. “Hey, just try to get some sleep. I know you’re in a lot of pain, and you need to rest. I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise.”

Keith sniffles against Lance’s shoulder, but nods quietly, and lets Lance’s touch lull him to sleep.

#vld #keith #lance #klance #injury #burns #toxic gas thing #tears #caretaking #fanfic #a writes #m

[alubanana]

Aftermath

For @gentronlegendaryfriendships

Day 7: Long-Distance Friendship I “I love you.”

Characters: Keith, Shiro, Kosmo and Krolia

Read on AO3! 

Watching a team of doctors pull Keith’s prone body from the wreckage of the Black Lion was quite possibly the most horrifying thing Shiro had ever seen.

Keith was so still. Head lolling in the arms of those who carried him, his helmet missing and a thick smear of red across his forehead and down his face. Shiro had spent the following frantic hours as the Paladins were retrieved from their Lions demanding answers, pressing everyone he knew of about the status of his team. No one answered him.

So, instead, Shiro sat in the waiting room for the hospital, bouncing his leg and just waiting. Waiting with his breath held for something to go wrong, for the doctors to approach him with that solemn look. God, what if the injury was worse than Shiro thought? What if Keith’s skull had been fractured? What if-

“Captain Shirogane?”

Shiro’s head whipped up to stare at the doctor standing in front of him. She held her clipboard close to her chest and her lips were pursed, but she didn’t look as forlorn as Shiro had been dreading. Weight eased off his shoulders.

“Yes?” He said thickly.

“Your teammates are all in stable condition,” she said. “Their injuries are severe, but after a bit of time they’ll make a full recovery.”

“Thank God,” Shiro said. He bowed his head, his eyes feeling a lot wetter than they had previously. “Thank God.”

When telling this story later, Shiro would like to recount it with a little more grace. About how he drew himself up to his full height and demanded to see his teammates and how he certainly did not release a high-pitched keen that made heads turn to look, or that he absolutely didn’t start to cry.

But he totally did.

-

In the days following, Shiro made a point to visit each one of his teammates - conscious or not - and ensure their wellbeing for himself. Lance was nursing a dislocated shoulder, Hunk’s leg had been broken, Allura was disoriented and in pain from a hit to her head, but otherwise alright, and Pidge had managed to both break her ankle and slice open her arm. Keith, however, was rarely conscious and when he was, he was disoriented from his terrible concussion.

At the very least, Shiro thought, brushing Keith’s bangs from his eyes to get a look under his bandages, the cut on his forehead was healing up nicely. It had been bad enough to warrant stitches, but it was starting to look a lot less red.

In the corner, Krolia stood leaning against the wall with Kosmo curled at her feet. She kept her eyes on the heart monitor at Keith’s bedside, silently counting the beats. In his seat, Shiro leaned back with a sigh, checking his watch. He had to be back at the Garrison in about a half-hour, but that was fine. He still had plenty of time before he actually had to leave.

It was Krolia who finally broke the silence. “I suppose I have to thank you, don’t I?”

Shiro lifted an eyebrow. “For what?”

“Taking care of him when I couldn’t,” Krolia nodded at Keith. “He wouldn’t be the man he is today if not for you. So...thank you.”

Shiro’s mouth opened and closed. He couldn’t figure out what to say in response to that. In all honesty, he didn’t feel as though he’d done anything. All he’d seen in Keith was a troubled kid who needed a home - a family - and the rest was Keith working to better himself on his own. All Shiro had really done was to give him a chance. Something far too many people had failed to do.

“You’re welcome,” Shiro murmured, unable to say anything else. Krolia smiled and leaned down to scratch Kosmo. His enormous tail thumped happily against the floor. “He’s been through a lot,” Shiro added without thinking.

Krolia paused mid-scratch. “I know. The Quantum Abyss showed me a lot of it. If I ever see any of his foster parents again…” she bared her fangs, leaving the threat unfinished. Shiro couldn’t help but agree with her sentiment.

“You and me both,” he muttered. He glanced back at Keith.

Krolia sighed and stepped around Kosmo to head for the door. “I’m going to go get some of the brown stuff that keeps you humans awake.”

“Coffee?” Shiro tried and failed to hide his amused grin.

“Yes, that,” Krolia said. “Do you want anything?”  

“No,” Shiro shook his head. “Thank you, though.”

Krolia nodded and left the room. Kosmo took one look at the door shutting behind her and reacted, stretching and teleporting to the foot of Keith’s bed like Krolia had made it very clear he wasn’t supposed to. Shiro gave the wolf a dry look, but he just gave Shiro a goofy dog grin and wagged his tail. Immediately, Shiro’s resolve to tell him off faltered.

“Fine,” he muttered. “But only until Krolia comes back. Understood?” He had no idea if Kosmo understood or not, but he chose to think the wolf did when he yipped and made himself comfortable on the bed.

Piled on at least three pillows, Keith groaned softly, slowly blinking awake. Awkwardly, he shifted his hand to lift his bandage-clad arm and block out the light from the window that was shining directly into his eyes.

“Hey, buddy,” Shiro said, keeping his voice soft. Keith turned his head lethargically to face Shiro and a little smile spread across his face.

“’iro,” he said wisely.

“Good to see you, too,” Shiro hummed. “How are you feeling since you last woke up?” Keith made a face and did a slow see-saw with the hand still raised to blot out the sun. Shiro sighed, “the same, huh?”

“Mhm,” Keith said. “How’re...the others?”

“Better,” Shiro said. “Pidge regained consciousness yesterday. Matt’s been entertaining her with a dramatic recreation of all of his adventures in space. Lance and his family reunited again and his nieces and nephews seemed very happy to see he was okay. And-”

“Whoa, hey-” Keith moved his arm to press his finger against Shiro’s lips. “Too...too fast. Slow down. Can’t...concentrate.”

“Right, sorry,” Shiro murmured. His eyebrows knitted. “Do you want me to leave so you can go back to sleep?”

“Stay,” Keith’s eyes turned pleading.

Shiro checked his watch. He had to leave soon but he could care less if he was a bit late to a meeting he didn’t want to attend to begin with.

“Okay,” he agreed. “But only until Krolia comes back.”

“Mom?” Keith turned to look at the corner his mother had been occupying for the past few days. “Where is she? And-” he looked down at the foot of the bed, at his enormous slumbering space wolf. “Kosmo-” he dragged the name out. “You’re not supposed to be there.”

“Krolia’s just getting some coffee,” Shiro reassured him, lips quirking into an amused smile at the sight of Keith trying to push Kosmo out of the bed with his feet. “Extra espresso, I’m guessing, since coffee apparently doesn’t work as well on Galra as it does humans.”

Keith murmured something and gave up on his brief war with Kosmo. He turned his head to face Shiro, blinking slowly. His pupils were horribly dilated. Shiro’s heart lurched in sympathy and he stood to go close the blinds across the window. As he did so, he could hear Keith shifting in the bed to watch him. 

“Hey, Shiro?” Keith called.

“Hm?”

“Love you. Don’t feel like...I tell you that enough.”

Shiro’s hands froze in place on the blinds. For one terrible moment, he’d heard Keith’s voice rasp out those same words with a hot knife pressing closer and closer to his face.

Keith continued, unaware that anything was amiss. “You gave me a second chance. Took me under your wing. Made me a part of your family. Y’know?”

“Yeah, Keith. I know,” Shiro turned around, banishing the last of the bad memories and turned to smile at Keith still lying on the bed, disoriented. “I love you too, buddy.”

Keith smiled widely. It was the biggest one Shiro had ever seen on his face.

“’m glad,” he murmured.

“Get some rest, Keith,” Shiro murmured, already taking notice of Keith’s fluttering eyelids. “I’ll be here when you wake up again. I promise.”

“Mmm,” said Keith. He let his eyelids fall shut a moment later. Within seconds, he’d fallen back asleep.

The door opened with a quiet hiss. Krolia stepped back in with a steaming styrofoam cup in her hands. Kosmo reacted instantly, teleporting back to his spot in the corner, but from the sharp look Krolia shot the wolf, he’d not gone unnoticed.

“I’m back,” she said, crossing the room. “Did he wake-” she cut herself off. “Are you crying?”

Shiro stiffened. His flesh hand flew to his face where it had become suspiciously wet. He wiped at his eyes with his sleeve, shocked by just how many tears he’d managed to shed.

Concerned, Krolia crossed the room and set her cup down on Keith’s bedside table. She peered up into Shiro’s face, frowning.

“You don’t appear injured,” she murmured. “What happened?”

“Nothing I’m fine. I just-” Shiro drew in a deep, shuddering inhale. “You’ve got a great son. You know that?”

“I know,” Krolia’s expression softened. “And he’s got an equally incredible brother.”

Shiro beamed.

#voltron #chocodoesthewriting #keith #shiro #krolia #gentronweek #prompt: i love you

[kitten-keith]

When you Sleep

I don’t like this title either. Or even this fic very much. like I really LOVE parts of it? But the whole fic? MEh. Whatever maybe someone else will enjoy it.

Also it’s got some themes from previous fics like Touch starved Keith, and Cargo Pilot “behind the scenes” canon compliance. But like primarily soft IMO. It’s just... primarily soft.. NSFW-y for a minor blowjob when Keith loses all sense hahaaaa (Meaning I did, I lost all sense, don’t mind me.) Despite the title, surprisingly /not/ a lot of Somni cause they mostly just cuddle a lot. And like. Keith was mostly asleep for that one bit so. meh. Uhhh what else.

4544 words. Klance pre season 2.

Lance gets a little touchy with Keith during a sleep over that starts... things.

Have fun.

---

It starts easy, when the Paladins have all gone to sleep during a team bonding exercise in the wilderness of a planet whose name Lance had trouble pronouncing. He wasn’t sure how he got stuck sleeping between Hunk and Keith but when he stretches his arm out into the empty space on his left, he is too tired to realize just how close he is to the red Paladin.

It’s his waking up before the others that inevitably leads to his downfall.

Or if he was feeling particularly irresponsible, he supposed he could blame the softness of Keith’s cheek or the little crinkle of his brows that made it impossible to pull his hand away.

As it stood, when Lance woke up first to find that Keith had somehow coiled around his arm with his cheek in his open palm, he really couldn’t help it.

When his thumb rubbed over the skin and Keith leaned into him… when he made the most delicious little noise and his whole body squirmed a little closer…

It all gave Lance a terrible idea and frankly he didn’t want it.

Well— he wanted it, but he knew it wasn’t even a slightly good idea and least of all with Keith, so he tried to pull away.

And that was when Keith opened his eyes.

His mouth seemed to say Lance’s name, but no sound came out.

Instead there was only a soft sigh and the very slow tightening of Keith’s grip on Lance’s wrist.

Lance’s heart beat wildly in his chest at the small motion, realizing they were so close he could make out the shine in Keith’s eyes.

“What are you—?”

“Sorry it just… felt nice…” Keith’s eyelids slipped down part way, obscuring them from Lance’s view, “Felt really… good.”

Lance took a breath. Shaky, unsure. The others were still very much asleep but who knew for how long.

This was already a highly compromising position for the two of them to be in and now Keith was telling him he liked it? And not letting go?

At the silence Keith seemed to get a little less brave and his grip lessened.

Lance felt a coldness seep into where his hands had initially held contact. He didn’t think he liked it.

“I’m sorry, you did that by accident…didn’t you? F-forget I said anything.” Keith’s eyes darted up for a second before he looked back down and rolled over turning his back to Lance again. But that one second had been enough.

So, the position had been a little telling. So what?

He scooched over just enough that when he put his hand out to softly run up and down Keith’s side, he was comfortable and could easily make it look like he was mid-stretch if someone woke up and saw.

Keith jumped at the initial contact, small but noticeable thanks to his hand on his body, but in the silence and barely morning light he seemed to melt under his fingers.

By the time Shiro woke up, Lance had settled for carefully playing with the ends of Keith’s hair, something far less damning than a hand on his waist, and their morning started without a hitch.

They didn’t talk about it.

—-

It just becomes this thing that they do, migrating toward each other during easy or vulnerable moments.

Lance realizes quickly that the reason Keith is so receptive is because he’s starved of physical affections. He leans into every touch from every one of his teammates, Lance isn’t special.

Well. Not like that anyway.

Lance is special because he knows, and he provides Keith with a comfort none of the others even realize he needs.

Lance is special because, unlike when Shiro will pat his shoulders or when Pidge will lean into his side, Keith knows Lance’s touches are deliberate. And Lance is special because the night Keith falls asleep on the couch in the rec room— what happens there is purely for Lance.

 It had been weeks already. Small touches stretching on forever, warmth settling under skin. Lance’s favorite thing to do at this point is to graze his palm over the small of Keith’s back, feel him arch just the smallest bit, curving in a way that might keep his hand right there. But Lance always pulls away because the point is to graze not to settle. If Keith wants more, he has to say it.

 Lance is waiting for him to say it.

 And it’s from the rec room couch that he does.

 Lance sees that familiar tuft of black hair and casually lets his hand trail through it as he walks by the couch to turn off the television set Hunk must have left running when he left his movie companion for whatever dire feat of engineering had been required of him.

When he walks back Keith’s eyes are still shut but his lips have parted just enough to look so so inviting.

But Lance won’t. It’s not an invitation if Keith doesn’t say it is. And even though Lance has had the thoughts, the thoughts he spent so many years pushing down at the sight of those indigo eyes, acting on them beyond the touches Keith had already asked for was not on the agenda.

 So as much as those lips may have said to him, Lance steadfastly refused.

Or at least...conditionally refused.

Because he truly can’t help softly placing his hand on Keith’s cheek, his thumb sliding gently over his bottom lip, feeling the change in texture. Keith let him touch like this, so this much was fine.

If anyone were to walk in it would not be fine anymore, but thankfully most of the castle inhabitants had retired to their own chambers for the evening. They should be okay. Lance should be okay to fawn over the man who did such things to his heart…

 Not those feelings. Don’t think about those feelings.

 As Lance resigns himself, pulling his hand away, Keith opens his eyes.

Once again, his throat is dry when he tries to say his name so it’s inaudible, but Lance is starting to memorize the motion; the shape his lips make around his name, he loves it.

A tiny sliver of pink tongue slides over Keith’s lips and Lance prides himself in not freezing up over it, “Morning, Samurai.”

“Morning— it’s not, is it?” Keith mumbles out, his voice returning groggily.

Lance kneels down in front of the couch and smiles cheekily, “Nah, you’re just the loser who passed out during the Altean equivalent of the parent trap. You should probably find your own bed before it is morning though.”

Keith mumbles something inaudible then, Lance watches his lips move with a quirked eyebrow but can’t catch it, whatever it is, it isn’t his name.

 Keith stretches and sits up, his legs coming down off the couch to land beside Lance’s.

“Uh... were you…?” Keith’s hand is raised as he presses his finger tips to his lips.

Lance feels the heat start to build in his face, but he knows he did nothing wrong, so he says as much, “I didn’t kiss you if that’s what you’re thinking.”

 “R-right…” Keith looks back down.

Lance is silent and considers standing again. At this angle he has a nice view of Keith’s collar peeking out of his shirt and he wants things he knows he still shouldn’t think about.

But then Keith speaks again, “Did you… think about it?”

Lance is quiet.

“...b-because you could… if you wanted to… I wouldn’t be mad…”

Lance is silent because he’s not sure he’s hearing Keith correctly over the pounding of his heart and the blood rushing through his ears.

“W-while you were asleep...?”

Keith’s face lights up red so fast Lance almost can’t stand it. His view of his collar lets him watch the blush disappear into his shirt and god Lance wants to see his bare chest heat up with his face in this way.

He wants…

Keith is staring at the ground and his chest is heaving slightly in his own panic, “I just— I mean— I like waking up to your hands on me it feels really— I’m not trying to be weird or anything it’s just that you— uh...fuck.”

Keith deflated into the couch and Lance can’t help but chuckle even with his own nerves buzzing erratically under his skin, “figured you reacted a little strongly… I don’t mind Keith but shouldn’t a first kiss…” Lance allows himself to trail off because he wants to stick his foot in his mouth at the term.

First kiss.

First as in first of many.

And what was he doing trying to give more meaning to a kiss with a guy who simply had a preference for his hands in his sleep there weren’t any—

“First kiss…?”

Lance feels like he’s vibrating he’s so angry with himself he’s so sure he ruined everything—

“Guess you’re right…” Keith’s voice is suddenly so much steadier. Like logic has finally returned to his sleep hazed mind and he’s ready to clarify for Lance that they’re nothing and should keep it that way.

Except he doesn’t. Instead he leans forward with one carefully placed hand tilting Lance’s face toward him and he lets their lips come together softly. It’s so unlike the red paladin and yet so like him all at once Lance doesn’t know what to do for a long moment. And that long moment takes up all the time of their lips pressed together, and the hesitation clearly weighs on Keith because he already has an apology slipping past his lips and Lance isn’t here for it.

He lurches forward and smashes their lips together, it’s uncoordinated and confusing but Keith melts under him and his mouth opens against Lance’s tongue and suddenly he can taste him. He can taste Keith and he can feel him all around him as his arms wrap around his neck and pull him in closer. Keith’s tongue massages his and wills noises out of Lance he’d never thought he’d make before. It’s exhilarating and mind numbing all at once and Lance may or may not climb onto the couch where they spend the rest of the night tangled together kissing the life out of each other until they both fall asleep.

 And thus, came the shift.

Because when Lance wakes up it’s to Keith’s lips on his neck pressing simple soft kisses. It’s to Keith’s arms around his waist holding him so so close. It’s to the minute rolls of Keith’s hips against his, rubbing their morning wood together in a way that makes Lance’s head spin.

“F-fuck..!” Lance groans and Keith stops instantly like some spell was broken.

“Oh—oh my god Lance I’m so sorry I— “

It’s more of a stretch than anything else but the motion of Lance’s body against Keith’s rubs them together harshly and Keith breathes in rapidly through his nose in a panic.

“This is seriously a thing for you isn’t it…some kind of fetish?” Lance mumbles sleepily, sure to keep his voice as amused as possible, show Keith that he’s not mad.

For added measure he pushes his hips forward just a bit more and watches Keith’s eyes roll back in his head as he tries to chase the feeling, his fingers digging into Lance’s sides as he clings to him.

“L-lance I—”

“It’s either that or you were asleep subconsciously reaching out to me in your dreams, so which—”

The full body blush is back, and Keith’s eyes shut tight and he buries his face into Lance’s chest and Lance honestly can’t believe it.

He can’t believe it he can’t believe it he can’t—

His heart is thumping around so fucking hard.

“W-were you really…”

“I didn’t mean to! You just— I—” his voice is muffled by Lance’s shirt and Lance feels like he is simultaneously dying and thriving all at once.

“Were you dreaming about me…?”

Keith’s lips move but he can’t hear what he says.

An alarm goes off through the castle and the conversation needs to be placed on hold.

—-

Lance almost dies on the mission. They’d passed a planet that was clearly under attack and had suited up to defend it. There were civilian families to protect that weren’t quick enough to find shelter. Maybe Lance should have been more careful.

Still, while he doesn’t need a pod Pidge smacks him over the head the second he emerges from the blue lion.

Shiro says nothing though he looks like he can argue. Hunk pulls him into a full embrace talking very loudly in short phrases that sound like he’s chastising a dog: “don’t you ever do that again!”

Allura breathes a sigh of relief upon seeing him all in one piece, asking him to please be more careful. Coran congratulates him for saving the family but quietly warns him that glory only feels good if you’re alive to feel.

Keith tosses his helmet to the ground sometime between Pidge’s smack and Hunk’s hug, he buries his face in his hands while Allura speaks, and he’s out of the hangar well before Coran is done.

 Lance is fine. Broke a bit of a nervous sweat when that cannon fire was conveniently knocked off course. But he’s fine, the civilians were fine, the Galra retreated and everything was okay.

 He doesn’t see Keith except for a passing glance into the training room as Shiro exits. He considers going inside, asking Keith to talk, either about why he was so upset or maybe even travel back to that nice happy place they’d been while on the couch together. But he decides against it. Keith will come to him when he’s ready, he’s sure of it.

 A few weeks pass. Keith is still receptive to touch. Even occasionally initiates it by brushing their hands together or leaning his head down against his shoulder when no one is looking. But they don’t talk.

 Before they are supposed to go on separate missions, Lance to go find some brilliant prisoner, Keith to find materials for their teluduv, Keith finally pulls him aside.

Or rather, it’s as they’re both exiting their rooms that Keith suddenly gets this light in his eyes and turns, abruptly pushing Lance right back into his room and shutting the door behind him.

 “Uh—yes Kei-mmph!”

Keith’s lips are on his again, and he realizes how much he missed it from the one night that felt so long ago.

But they were supposed to be leaving. They hadn’t even gotten into their armors and Allura was still in a bad mood from having to work with Galra. Hell, finding out Keith was one too still hadn’t blown over.

“Keith—mm—ah!”

Keith walks him right up to the bed and shoves him down, quickly climbing on top of him to straddle his hips and reattach to those lips.

They had to go. He loves every feeling of Keith’s body against his, but they had to go.

He tries to grab him, push him off, but his brain never finishes its command because it got as far as “grab him” and his body refused to let go. His fingers dig into Keith’s hips and it makes him moan into Lance’s mouth in a way that excites Lance way too much.

He lays back, taking Keith with him, enjoying his warmth and his weight as he presses down. Lance isn’t sure what got into him, but he wishes it could have happened sooner, before they’d been assigned these missions they were now probably going to be late for.

“Keith—babe, they’re gonna come looking for us…” Lance finally managed to croak out as Keith moves to his neck. When Keith bites into the juncture at his shoulder and collarbone Lance cries out loudly, eyes rolling back as Keith already massages over the bite with his tongue, his hands tugging at Lance’s pants.

“Doors locked.” Keith explains simply, he bites him again, and Lance can feel himself hardening against all his better judgment.

Keith’s hand undoes his button and zipper and in mere seconds his hand is moving.

Lance is melting and panting and so bloody confused.

“Keith, we haven’t— Keith— hah— Keith seriously!?”

The red Paladin freezes before circling back up to Lance’s face, his eyes are hard, determined, and Lance’s body is suddenly so tightly strung staring into those eyes with his hand on his cock he doesn’t know what to do.

The hand tightens, Lance whimpers, and Keith leans in towards his ear, kissing his earlobe lightly as he says, “I need you to cum for me, Lance.”

Lance breathes deep and Keith’s hand slides up his shaft, only then allowing him to realize Keith isn’t wearing his gloves. Keith’s hands are so soft and smooth, always protected under those tacky things, and they feel so good.

“W-why…?” Lance hazards to say out loud. Keith chuckles in his ear and Lance is positive he felt his dick twitch at the sound.

“Because I need you to know what you’re coming back to… maybe…” his hand slides over his head, smearing precum and making Lance grit his teeth to keep from groaning.

“Maybe knowing will keep you from doing any stupid stunts this time around…”

Keith’s hand is slick as it rubs over his head and up and down his shaft, slowly raising in speed.

“K-Keith you don’t have to— mnn..!— you could have just— hah fuck Keith— it feels…”

Keith shrugged as he slid down Lance’s body, the implication very much clear.

“Sure, I guess with you something simple and cheesy and romantic would have worked… but this is more fun and if I’m being honest, I panicked.” He chuckles again and leans his head down to kiss Lance’s hip.

Lance smacks himself in the forehead, “a panicked hand job, definitely how I wanted us to go.”

“Well I mean,” Keith nuzzles his side and Lance’s breath catches, “Spur of the moment decision Lance, yeah. But… I’m definitely not panicking right now. Should have done this ages ago…”

He turns his head to get right up close and personal with Lance’s member and Lance releases a tiny shriek of embarrassment that quickly shifts into something deeper as Keith’s tongue comes out to press flat over the curve of his dick.

And then Keith is moaning, and Lance is overheating because Keith is so unbelievably hot and his tongue feels so good.

“Keith, please...!”

“You taste great, Lance.” He says it with a smile and Lance can’t fucking breathe!

“Now let me make you cum so you come running right back to me.”

Keith’s lips come down over the head of Lance’s cock and Lance can’t help but buck his hips.

“Really—really couldn’t just— SAY—Nnn! Keith...!”

His mouth was hot, really hot, like warm hot not sexy hot but also sexy hot and Jesus— Jesus did Lance mention he’d never gotten a blow job before?

Like there’s been some hand stuff and some like. Cuddling that got a little heated before (hell, that time on the couch wasn’t that long ago was it?)

But Keith coming at him like this— too much too much too—

“Keith— f-ahh— “

Keith’s hand moved down under his shaft to massage his balls as he increased his speed, spit trailing down to make everything feel way too—

“Hnn! C-cuming! I’m cumming! Keith you have to— “

Keith sucks harder and his tongue swirls around his head and Lance looks down just in time to see his smirk.

He has just enough time to think, “sexy fucker.” Before whiting out.

By the time he comes back to his senses Keith has white seeping out of the corner of his lips and he is still sucking and massaging his cock, like he wants every last drop of his cum and Lance feels his soul ascending.

Only to plummet back down as someone bangs on the door, “Lance! What are you doing in there?! The door is locked! You best get your butt down to the hangar in the next five dobashes or so help me!”

The voice sounds further away toward the end, to the point they can barely make out Allura’s going: “and where the quiznak is KEITH?!”

 Keith finally lifts up, visibly swallows and licks his lips.

“Alright. Now you can go on your mission… knowing you have to come back and return the favor, or you’ll be officially labeled a selfish lover.”

Keith hops off the bed like he isn’t ignoring his own erection pushing on his leggings and Lance is dumbfounded.

“S-self—selfish?!”

Keith chuckles while Lance pulls up his pants, “I’ll have you know if we had more time I’d— “

“You’ll just have to show me when we get back.” Keith scoops his gloves up off the floor where he’d apparently tossed them at some point.

“For the love of god, Keith, what even brought this on?!”

Keith pauses at the door, sighs deeply, and turns back around.

“I was mad. I was really mad. That I’d finally gotten up the nerve to kiss you and I almost lost you the next fucking morning. So. I was mad. And I decided I didn’t want to—to... but now… I’m a freaking Galra, Lance. And we’re fighting a war. And I’m not— we’re not… maybe we don’t have a lot of time and I was wasting it by being... angry.”

He walks back up to Lance and kisses him so hard he ends up on his back again. Lance nearly chokes because he doesn’t have the chance to catch his breath and he refuses to be the one to pull away.

It makes his moan come out faster, louder, a little more desperate and maybe Keith hears it and worries because he pulls off then. He kisses Lance’s cheeks and his nose while he catches his breath and he breathe in too.

“Bonus, I really, really wanted to kiss you. And I wasn’t going to wait another minute to do it.”

Lance feels his chest swell a little at that, having gotten enough breath in his lungs he grabs Keith by the back of the neck and pulls him in for another kiss.

It’s quicker, and softer. Lance has the moment to register his own taste on Keith’s tongue before he remembers Allura’s warning.

“I still think you’re nuts. Who jumps straight to blowjobs— “

Keith huffs another laugh. “Who cums after like five minutes— “

“YOU SIR do not get to judge me! You pounced on me! I was not prepared!” Lance kisses him again before he can rebuttal and when Keith is sighing, his lips looking soft and wet and bruised and perfect, he rolls his eyes and grazes his hand over his cheek.

“You wait though. I have to prove myself when we get back now. Cause you’re freaking nuts.”

Keith laughs so hard he’s still chuckling when his suit is on.

It takes a dark look from Allura for him to stop. Lance doesn’t like it. So, he suggests a kiss for luck, realizes that he and Keith haven’t exactly gone public yet and immediately turns to Allura because— well no one would think that was weird right?

He was protecting Keith’s privacy!

It was a joke!

He didn’t think she’d actually do it—

The minor heart attack he had when he felt something against his lips that was so very not Keith should have been punishment enough. Finding out it was a mouse?? Even worse!

 But ya know. Go figure, you get a blowjob from the guy you’re kind of falling in love with and then joke about kissing a girl in front of him— yeah okay he probably deserves Keith’s fury when they return to their rooms after the mission. When Keith keeps his head lowered and tries to keep a pace ahead of him at all times, make it to his room first.

And when he does and Lance reaches out to brush the small of his back, test the waters, he feels Keith pull away for the first time since it all started, and his door shuts behind him.

So yeah. Yeah okay he deserved that.

—

 It’s also why later that evening comes as such a shock.

He hadn’t had the energy to go through his usual skin care routine. Struggling against the obsessive thoughts to let himself into Keith’s room and curl up beside him, explain what had happened in his ridiculous brain to think that was a good idea. Not even to make good on their little agreement he just wanted to forget how awful it felt to watch him pull away!

And Keith didn’t want to waste time being angry. He’s just said that. He’d just said that!

And then Lance had to go and make him angry.

Stupid.

Stupid.

He should get out of bed right this second and apologize. Keith would forgive him once he understood, once he knew Lance was serious and absolutely wasn’t taking advantage of him— which. Should probably mean Lance shouldn’t let himself into Keith’s room while he’s asleep. Because Keith is so soft when he sleeps and they both know how he is and—

Okay new plan. Getting up early, waiting patiently outside Keith’s door for the red Paladin to come out for his morning training, and then apologizing. With everyone fully awake and not inclined to be distracted.

Yeah.

Solid plan.

 When it feels like he’s just finally gotten to sleep, having been anxious and worried all night, something warm comes to lean against his side.

He’s tired, and it’s comfortable, and he doesn’t know if he slept through his door opening and closing or if the presence just materialized out of thin air, but he isn’t complaining.

He thinks he may have mumbled Keith’s name.

He probably did.

He knows he did. Because he knows it’s Keith’s face pressing into his neck and breathing him in. He knows its Keith’s hair brushing his cheeks and he knows it’s his hands pulling him close.

 Lance softly wraps the arm not bound by the covers and Keith’s weight around him, still a little apprehensive that he might pull away again. That this might actually be a dream and it’ll all go away when he opens his eyes.

He doesn’t risk it, but the pressure remains.

“Goodnight…” Keith mumbles finally, he sounds put out, like he’d struggled to come to this conclusion, but Lance doesn’t mind.

Just whispers his name again with a contented sigh and kisses the top of his head.

 In the morning, when Keith wakes up first with an angry little growl and straddles Lance’s waist to ask what the fuck he was thinking Lance does his best to keep his brain on track.

And when Keith inevitably accepts his groveling and kisses him softly, (“this one’s actually for luck.”) Lance feels all the tension ease from his bones before flipping Keith onto his back and cuddling into him.

“And whenever you wanna collect on your side of things just uh. You let me know, yeah, babe?”

Keith laughed and wrapped his arms around Lance’s head, “yeah right... maybe later.”

#Idk what I'm doing anymore #klance #bottom!keith #because I'll never write bottom lance I''m sorry #I mean maybe switch #but nah okay #top lance #top!lance #how do I tag without getting flagged though?? #ugh whatever #fluff and smut #mostly fluff #mostly lance loving all over Keith and being dumb #and Keith trying really hard not to be angry about things #send help idk