#i mean you could not go into any voltron space without seeing it

[autisticlancemcclain]

For all that Keith easily sees the strength in others, he struggles to accept just how much value he holds. He’s not like Lance, of course — Lance sees the good in every person he meets because as much as he hates to admit it, he’s gullible. But Keith looks at every person he meets and easily identifies their strength. Sometimes it’s with fondness, sometimes with wariness, but he is completely certain that everyone in the universe has a value to them.

He, however, struggles to see how he is valued by others.

It’s not that he thinks he’s useless. He knows he isn’t. He knows he’s skilled. But Lance has always observed Keith in any way he could, and that didn’t stop when they got married. Lance knows his husband can’t quite understand why he is loved as much as he is. He’s happy to explain why he values everyone else, from earnestly explaining to Allura that she’s the spirit of Voltron and fondly telling Lance to leave the math to Pidge — he loves metaphors, that husband of Lance’s, because heaven forbid he just says what he wants to say — but vehemently denies that he might be held in just as high regard.

But Lance knows. Quietly, proved over and over again through the years, he knows that Keith is who people turn to when they need someone. Keith is reliable, he’s dependable, he’s strong — a little tactless, sure, but when you’re scared and vulnerable and you don’t know what to do or who to rely on? You turn to Keith. Lance did it himself, years and years ago, when there were five lions and six paladins and he didn’t know where to go from there. The war may be behind them, but that didn’t stop their team from needing their leader.

1. Pidge

Lance really starts to clue in when Keith’s phone goes off, late at night, when they’re cuddling and watching a movie (but mostly cuddling).

“Sorry,” Keith mutters sheepishly. Lance just rolls his eyes fondly and digs around for the remote to pause the movie (he is not going to have Keith talk over Legally Blonde. That’s a sin). Remote search or no, though, Lance refuses to move even one inch away from his own personal space heater, so he feels it when said personal space heater tenses up.

Here we go.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Just — don’t hang up. I’m coming, okay?”

Keith puts his hand over the base of his phone, looking at Lance urgently.

“It’s Pidge.”

“Is she okay? Does she need Voltron?”

“Not all of us,” he says, hushed. “She’s just — she messed around in the wrong server and got herself arrested in the Delrn quadrant. She needs someone to go get her.”

Lance exhales, shoulders slumping. That’s not — that’s not good, obviously, but after years of Pidge needs help meaning Pidge is being ambushed by dozens of armed soldiers, it’s a lot less scary.

“You need my help?”

Keith shakes his head. “No, you stay here. I’ve got it. It shouldn’t take too long. Don’t wait up though, okay?”

He presses a kiss to Lance’s cheek before untangling himself from the blankets, walking over to the front door and sliding on his boots.

“I’m coming now, Pidge, okay? Keep on, I’ll transfer your line to my ship in a minute.”

“Text me when she’s safe,” Lance calls as Keith unlocks the door.

“Will do.” He shoots a rueful smile in Lance’s direction. “Sorry for ditching movie night.”

Lance shakes his head fondly, waving him away. “Go, Oh Mighty Black Paladin. I’ll see you when you get home.”

Keith grins at him one more time before he ducks into the garage, locking the door behind him. Lance sighs, turning off the T.V. and folding the blanket, heading over to the kitchen to make himself a coffee. He won’t be able to sleep until he knows Pidge is home safe, anyway. (And, he’ll be honest, there’s a snowball’s chance in hell that he’ll be able to sleep without Keith’s constant snores.)

By the time Keith gets home, Lance has finished three (3) coffees and has sewn the lining of the current project he’s working on. It’s something like 4 in the morning, but Lance stopped looking at the clock a couple hours ago.

“I thought I told you not to wait up,” Keith says, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to Lance’s lips.

“Mm,” Lance mumbles, grabbing Keith’s shirt and keeping him right where he is (pressed close close closely to Lance, where Lance has selfishly and unashamedly decided he belongs). “Can’t sleep without you. I’ve unfortunately fallen victim to your conditioning, Pavlov.”

Keith snorts, kissing him one last time before fully scooping him up in his arms.

Lance, whipped as he is, does not protest.

“I think you’re maybe just in love with me,” he says, smirking.

Lance pretends to think about it. “I dunno. There’s this really hot guy, maybe you’ve heard of him. Leader of Voltron? Ex-Blade? He’s got this dreamy mullet. I kind of have a thing for him.”

Keith rolls his eyes, fully throwing him on the bed and crawling in after him, ignoring Lance’s indignant yelp.

“He sounds like a dork,” he says drily.

Lance grins. “He is.”

“Whatever, you butthead. Get over here so we can sleep.”

Without a moment of hesitation, Lance flops into Keith’s open arms, snaking his arms around his husband’s waist and tangling their legs together. He holds him closely, head over his heart, listening to it beat.

“Pidge okay?” he asks softly.

Keith hums, running his hands through Lance’s hair. “Yeah. Pretending to be less shaken up than she is. She got cocky and got caught and it freaked her out, so she started running her mouth. You know her.”

Lance laughs quietly. Sounds like Pidge.

“But it wasn’t that big of a deal. I went to the station and talked them out of pressing charges for spying. She’s banned from the quadrant for life, but nothing else. Dunno why she called me to help. Coran probably would have been more helpful.”

Privately, Lance thinks he knows exactly why Pidge called Keith. Why, when she was scared and alone and knew she had fucked up, she immediately called the one person who would drop everything to make sure she’s okay. Who has done it for her before and will do it again. Who respects her as a grown woman, now, who doesn’t need his guidance, but who will never stop providing his support.

“Bet she thought the big bad Black Paladin would win her some intimidation points,” he says instead, because he knows his husband isn’t yet ready to hear it.

They’ll get there.

2. Hunk

It’s not that Keith gets these calls often. Hell, definitely no more than once every five or six months. Few and far between, really. Staggered enough that the pattern might skip most people’s notice.

But Lance knows better.

So when Keith’s phone rings — and of course it actually rings, because Keith is the only person Lance knows who never, ever turns his ringer off, because even though he might not realise it he is constantly ready to help and would never put himself in a position where he can’t — in the middle of their mortgage meeting with the bank, Lance ducks his head to hide his smile.

He figured that might happen.

“Fuck,” Keith mutters, digging around in his pocket. “Sorry. I have to take this.”

The bank teller — a very serious-looking woman in her late sixties — does not look amused. She mutters something about professionalism.

Lance does her a favour and does not point out that Keith is one of five reasons that Earth is not currently a pile of space dust, and she should perhaps provide some lenience.

“Keith?” comes a nervous, teary voice from Keith’s phone (the bank teller’s office is real small, and there’s no room for privacy).

“Yeah, Hunk. You okay?”

“Um, sorry to bother you. You’re probably busy. But, uh. My car broke down? I tried fixing it myself but I don’t have the parts I need, and triple A says they can’t send a tow because of all the snow, and I’m wearing a coat but I don’t really want to be here for hours so —“

“Hunk,” Keith interrupts, “breathe, buddy.”

Hunk does, deep and noisy enough to be heard through the phone.

(Lance thinks back to the first time he can remember that Hunk’s anxiety made itself known around Keith. He remembers seeing Keith, eighteen and still bitter and unsure but desperate to be part of a family, with wide panicked eyes and stuttering advice about ‘not worrying about it’, trying to calm Hunk down to no avail. It’s certainly something, he’s thinks, that Keith can now calm Hunk effortlessly through the phone.)

“I’m leaving now to come pick you up. We’ll come back later to get your car, yeah?”

“I don’t want to put you out —“

“Hunk,” Keith says firmly, “chill out. Or, er, don’t, I guess, since that’s the problem. Um, stay in your car so you’ll stay warm. I’ll be there soon. Okay?”

“…Okay.”

Keith hangs up, and looks apologetically at Lance.

“I’m sorry, babe, I know this is important —”

Lance squeezes his hand. “Go. I got this.”

Keith quickly gets up from the stuffy chair, presses a kiss to Lance’s temple, and rushes out without a word.

The bank teller sniffs. “High demand, your husband. Can’t even make time for one appointment. That doesn’t inspire confidence, you know.”

“Family emergency, ma’am,” Lance says with great amusement. “Besides, we’re nearly finished. I’ll make sure to relay everything you say to him when he gets home.”

Lance decides to walk home after the meeting, since Keith has their car. It’s nice. Despite the mishap, the meeting had gone rather smoothly, and there’s no reason why they shouldn’t get approved for their mortgage within the week. That’ll keep things going nicely. Lance will miss their quiet little apartment, but he’s excited for what they’re going to build together next.

Besides, he thinks, when Keith gets home several hours later with a sheepish Hunk in tow, it’ll be nice to have a couple guest bedrooms.

He’s sure they’ll need them.

3. Romelle

The ring of the doorbell makes them both panic.

“Is that the social worker?”

“She’s not supposed to be here for another hour,” Lance hisses, three steps away from freaking out. Keith is not far behind him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Can we ignore it?”

“No, we can’t ignore it! It’s a home visit! We need to be home!”

“Fuck! Okay! I’m gonna answer the door, fix your hair!”

Lance does, frantically trying to pat it down so it doesn’t look like he’s been nervously running his hands through it for four hours (he has) or that he just had sex (he hasn’t). (Well. Not since this morning.)

“Here, let me —” Lance practically melts at Keith’s touch, his gentle hands through the knots in Lance’s un-straightened hair, even though it’s certainly not a new sensation.

But he always appreciates Keith’s hands on him.

“We’ll be okay,” Keith says, dropping a kiss on Lance’s forehead before stepping away. “I mean, if we fail we can just be assholes and pull the saviours-of-the-universe card, right?”

Lance flicks him on the forehead, unable to fight back a smile. “We’re supposed to be responsible now, Mullet.”

Keith grins, curling one hand in Lance’s and one around the doorknob. “Whatever you say, Kogane. You ready?”

Lance nods, squeezing Keith’s hand.

They’ve got this.

“Hi,” says someone who is decidedly not the social worker, looking at them nervously from their front door.

Keith and Lance blink at her, and then each other, shocked.

Well. At least this is better than Mrs. Kreft coming early, at least.

“Romelle? What are you doing here?”

The Altean’s face crumples, and she throws herself at Keith.

“I don’t know what I’m doing with my life,” she wails.

Lance sighs fondly, shaking his head.

He should have known.

“I’ll call Mrs. Kreft,” Lance says as Keith guides the sobbing woman to their couch. Keith nods gratefully, then turns his attention back to Romelle, so Lance heads to the kitchen to give them some privacy.

He quickly dials the social worker’s number, resting his hip on the counter and fiddling with a random pen he found.

“Lance! I’m about to leave for your place now. Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” he reassures. “Keith’s sister popped by unexpectedly, though. She’ll probably stay for a couple weeks. I was wondering if you could maybe do one of our character evaluations at the same time as the home visit? Two birds with one stone, you know.”

If there’s one thing Lance is good at, it’s rolling with the punches. He’ll handle this.

“You caught me at a good time, then,” Mrs. Kreft says jovially. “I’ll get the right paperwork. Is Keith’s sister prepared for the interview process? She’s not really meant to rehearse or anything — she’s supposed to provide an honest and timely assessment of your caregiving abilities — but it would be best if she knew it was coming.”

“I’ll make sure to brief her. Thank you, Mrs. Kreft. We really appreciate it.”

“Of course, Lance. I’m rooting for you two. I’ll see you in about forty-five minutes.”

“Alright, thanks. Bye.”

Keith walks in to the kitchen just as she hangs up.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes,” Lance says, reaching over to rest his hand on the side of Keith’s neck. He rubs his thumb over the tense muscles there, tracing over his clenched jaw and pursed lips. “I handled it, baby. She’s going to do a character interview with Romelle at the same time, so this worked out.”

Keith sighs in relief, tilting forward to rest his head on Lance’s shoulder. Lance shifts so he’s comfortable, running his hands through Keith’s hair.

“Oh, thank God.”

Lance hums. “Told you it would be fine.”

“I know. It’s just — I feel like every time we try and do something for our future, something happens and you end up picking up my mess on your own. We’re about to — we’re trying to be parents, Lance. I want us to be on equal grounds.”

“Hey.” Lance tugs gently on his husband’s hair. “Look at me.”

Keith does, looking down at him with a furrowed brow and frustrated pout. Lance reaches up to smooth the line between his eyebrows.

“Do you think I walked into this unprepared?” he asks sternly. “I know you, sweetheart. I knew exactly what I signed up for when I agreed to be your right hand. Do you think that stopped when the war was won? Do you think I didn’t know that were were going to be doing this leading schtick our whole lives? I knew who you were when I married you, baby. This is not a surprise. You’re not leaving me to clean up after you. We’re a team, cielo. And sometimes a team means I stay home and hold the fort while you’re picking up our dumbass friends from a holding cell, or calling the social worker as you make sure everything’s okay. Okay?”

Keith exhales, pressing his forehead to Lance’s.

“Okay. Thank you, Lance. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Lance presses a quick kiss to his lips before stepping away, grabbing a box of tissues and filling up a glass of water. “Okay, Samurai. Fill me in. What’s up with Romelle?”

“She’s worried she’s got no future. She’s been kind of drifting around between New Altea and the Rebels and the Blades, doesn’t feel like she fits in anywhere.”

“So she’s going through the emo Keith phase,” Lance teases.

Keith scowls. “Whatever. Technically.”

“She came to the right place, then. Your earnestly awkward life-coach ass will have her fixed up in no time.”

“You’re mean to me,” Keith says, pouting.

Lance laughs, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Mhm, and you’d be lost without me. Let’s go make sure you’re sister is okay.”

Intermission

To Lance’s relief, there are no interruptions on the most important day of their lives — the day everything they’ve been slowly working for comes together. The day their family grows to four — two kids, siblings, lives uprooted by the war — there are no interruptions. No one calls, no one shows up unexpectedly, no one needs their help.

It’s just them, terrified and elated at the front door, meeting Mason and Keevah for the first time.

Keith is the first to react. He squeezes Lance’s hands three times in quick succession then lets go, sitting criss-cross-applesauce on the floor, eye-level with Mason. He looks at Keith warily, untrusting.

It makes Lance’s heart ache, for this little boy who had the worst thing that could ever happen to a kid happen to him while the entire planet was falling apart, who has learned to be jaded and icy to every adult he’s met, who only barely remembers what it’s like to live in a loving home.

“Hi,” Mason says eventually.

Keith smiles slightly. “I’m Keith. My husband’s name is Lance.” Lance waves. Mason glances at him, but does not wave back. “We have a room prepared for you and your sister.”

Mason blinks, surprised. “Me and Keevah?”

Lance smiles, finally losing the battle with his tears. (He’s doing everything he can to keep the smile on his face, keep himself from openly sobbing. He keeps imagining himself in Mason’s position, losing his parents before he could talk properly and suddenly desperate to stay with your infant sister. It’s heartbreaking. He already aches for this kid, and he barely knows him.)

(Yet.)

“Yes,” he says, voice cracking. “We figured that would make the transition easier.”

Mason hesitates a moment. Lance can see the emotions warring on his face — to trust, or not to trust — and he can hear Keith’s breathing shift, slightly, like he’s remembering feeling those exact same emotions himself, years and years ago, stepping into Shiro’s apartment for the first time and wondering if it’s worth it to hope.

“Okay,” Mason says eventually. He tugs on Keevah’s hand, wrapped tightly around her big brother’s finger, other thumb in her mouth as she stares at Keith and Lance with blatant curiosity. “Let’s go, Keevah. It’s late. Time for bed.”

Lance moves to guide them to their new room, but Keith stands, placing a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“It’s the first door on your left,” he tells them. Mason nods once and walks off, superhero suitcase rolling behind him. (They hadn’t known if Mason liked superheroes, or Keevah, but Keith had been adamant that they buy a set of luggage before signing all the paperwork, quietly confiding that the worst thing about moving to a new home growing up was packing all your shit in a garbage bag, like that was all it was worth. Lance was quick to agree.)

“They’ll need time to adjust,” Keith murmurs. “I always hated the fosters that were too overbearing.”

Lance sniffles, nodding. “Good point.”

Keith’s smile is soft as he reaches over to brush the tears from Lance’s cheeks, bending down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Everything will work out,” he murmurs. “Promise.”

The surety of his husband’s voice makes him smile. Keith’s strength is unwavering.

“I know. I trust you.”

4. Allura

By the time the fourth call comes, half a year later, Keith is starting to catch on. He’s in the middle of shoving their last duffel bag into the trunk when his phone rings, and his sigh is so heavy that Lance can hear it from the driver’s seat. He hides a smile in his hand.

Keith’s phone is connected to the car’s bluetooth, so Lance turns down the volume — high enough that he can hear, but low enough that Mason and Keevah, who are playing patty cake in the back seat, can’t.

“Allura? Everything okay?” Despite his exasperation, his voice is calm.

For a whole fifteen seconds the other end is silent, long enough that Lance would almost think that the Queen of New Altea had simply butt dialed them were it not for the faintest sounds of heavy, stressed breathing. Then Allura blurts out: “I can’t do this anymore.”

There’s another moment of silence as Keith processes that.

“Do what?” he asks hesitantly. He slides into the passenger seat, buckling up and flashing a small smile at Lance. Lance shoots him a thumbs up in acknowledgment, glancing in the rearview to make sure the kids are buckled too, before peeling out of the driveway, setting route for his parent’s house.

“Do this!” Allura cries, tears audible in her voice. “I’m — I’m quiznaking everything up! I can’t — I’m not fit to be a leader, Keith! I’m not you, I’m not Shiro, and I’m certainly not my father, and I am going to lead my entire people and our planet into a flaming pile of Weblum dung! I am the worst queen to ever be coronated! I’m a mistake!” She sobs, so loud the audio crackles with it. Lance exchanges a worried look with his husband.

He’s never heard Allura so upset — not even when they were facing the end of the universe and none of them had a hail mary to fall back on.

“You’re not a mistake, Allura.” Keith’s voice is quiet, but firm, full of undeniable conviction. He leaves absolutely no room for doubt. “Don’t insult my friend that way.”

Allura chokes on another sob over the phone. For a while there are no words, just the sound of her cries, long enough that Lance feels his own heart start to hurt and chin start to tremble. He hates hearing his friends — his family — suffering.

“I don’t know what to do,” Allura chokes out. “I’m not — every choice I make is the wrong one.”

Keith reaches over and plucks one of Lance’s hands off the steering wheel, gripping it tightly. He doesn’t even seem to notice he’s done it, staring thoughtfully at his phone, like he needed to borrow Lance’s strength for a minute. He hates hearing any of them in pain, too.

Lance squeezes tightly, happy to lend it.

“What happened?”

It’s hard to make out everything she’s saying, intergalactic calls already so staticky on top of her emotions making her accent thicker than usual, but the gist is pretty obvious. Allura has been queen for half a decade, now, a little more — the honeymoon phase, so to speak, is starting to wear off. No longer are all her people just relieved to be out from Lotor’s tyranny — like with any nation, tension has arisen, and Allura is struggling to handle it all on her own. She can’t please everybody, and it’s beyond disheartening to have so many people, who were once completely happy with her and her leadership, frustrated with her.

Keith lets her vent until she finally stops for a moment to breathe. He takes a moment to gather himself, frowning deeply.

“I don’t understand why all of this is resting on your shoulders,” he says carefully.

There’s a pause.

“…Pardon?”

“You seem to be the only one putting out every single fire that’s popping up,” Keith repeats. “Where’s Coran? Or the rest of your council?”

This time the pause is much longer.

Guiltier.

“I don’t want to burden them.”

Keith sighs, but it’s not disappointed. It’s exasperated. Concerned, more than anything. Despite himself, Lance smiles; it’s the exact same sigh Lance would often heave when Keith was trying to do everything by himself, in his earliest Black Paladin days. It’s beyond a little amusing to hear it from the other end.

“Allura, that is their job. They are paid to take some of that burden from you, dude. Quite a lot of it, in fact.”

“Still,” Allura says stubbornly. “It’s not — I’m the queen. ‘Heavy is the head that wears the crown’, as you humans say.”

Keith’s indigo eyes brighten. Lance groans, barely resisting the urge to slam his head on the steering wheel — he recognises that look. That’s his husband’s I just thought of an applicable metaphor look.

Keith gleefully ignores him, bolstering right on.

“And what happens if the head is too heavy, ‘Llura?”

Lance groans louder, so Allura can hear this time. It startles a laugh out of her, which brings a smile to Lance’s face and a scowl to Keith’s.

“…You topple right over,” Allura admits begrudgingly.

Keith nods, inordinately pleased with himself. “Exactly.”

“You’re infuriating,” Allura informs him. She blows her nose. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“Well, good thing that doesn’t happen often,” Lance chimes in, because the opportunity was right there and the whole point of marriage is that he has the opportunity to mock Keith until they both finally bite it.

Allura laughs as Keith glares at him. Lance smiles primly.

“I cannot believe you two,” Keith mutters to himself. Lance kisses the tips of his fingers with an exaggerated mwah noise and presses the fingers to Keith’s forehead. Much to his own chagrin, no doubt, the action makes his lips twitch up into a smile.

“Thank you, Keith,” Allura says. “You too, Lance. I — appreciate it. And you.”

The softness bleeds back into Keith’s expression. Sap. “Of course, Allura. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

He’s quiet for a moment after she hangs up, contemplative.

“Isn’t it strange that she called me for — for leadership advice?” he questions finally, turning to face Lance. “I mean, I stumbled through every day as leader. Shiro was more of a natural. Hell, you’re better with pep talks, Mr. The Black Lion Chose You And I Trust It’s Judgement.”

The set up is there. Lance could spell it out for him now, gently explain what he’s observed over the years, what he knows to be true — Keith, even though he refuses to admit it or even let himself notice, is the cornerstone of their family, the one who grew up with so much change so constantly that he learned to find steadiness in himself.

But that’s a longer conversation. That’s a quiet conversation, for when Lance can give his husband his full attention, when they can face each other and be honest and work through the inevitable pain of Keith accepting that as truth. Not when Lance is driving, and their kids are in the back, very obviously listening in at this point.

“Oh, come on, Fearless Leader,” Lance teases. “She knew she needed a nice, cheesy metaphor to set her head on straight, isn’t it obvious?”

Keith scoffs, smacking him on the bicep. “Jerk.”

Lance gasps loudly, clutching the bicep dramatically.

“Mason! Keevah! Did you see what your evil, evil daddy did to me?! To your beloved Papa! Oh, how I am wounded! Betrayed! By the love of my life, my dearest husband, the man to whom I have pledged my heart —”

The kids giggle, Keith rolling his eyes so hard it has to hurt him.

Lance smiles to himself. Now’s not the right time, but they’ll get there — soon.

5. Sylvio

The truth finally starts to cement itself in Keith’s head by the fifth phone call.

Lance groans as his husband’s ringtone drags him from his sleep, glaring at the man who sleeps peacefully right through it. He smacks him with a pillow, waking him with a startled “Wha—?” and then hands him his phone.

“Hello?” Keith asks groggily, sitting up — dragging Lance, who was laying on his chest, up with him, much to his chagrin — and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

There’s a beat of silence, then a timid: “Tio Keith?”

Both of them shoot up in alarm. Lance hasn’t heard his nephew sound so close to tears since he was much younger.

“It’s three in the morning, kiddo,” Keith says, looking at Lance as if to ask what’s going on?. Lance shrugs, gesturing at the phone — find out!

“I fucked up,” Sylvio says in a small voice, and then he bursts into tears. Keith leaps out of bed immediately, frantically looking for some pants. Lance grabs them and tosses them to him, watching in concern.

“Woah — Sylvio — slow down, I can’t —”

But Sylvio keeps rambling, in a mix of Spanish and English so muddled that even Lance has no idea what he’s saying.

“Just please come get me,” he cries, the first clear words in minutes.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, kiddo. Where are you?”

Sylvio rattles off an address, and Keith nods. “I’m coming, okay? Keep your phone on you.”

Sylvio says something in affirmation, then keeps crying, muttering to himself. Keith covers the phone with one hand, he other tugging on some socks. He looks at Lance in panic.

“Why is he calling me?”

Lance shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“You should go,” Keith says nervously. “He’s your nephew, you —”

“He’s your nephew too,” Lance interrupts quietly. “You know that. Plus, he called you, cielo. You’re the one he needs right now.”

Keith doesn’t look any more reassured. In fact he looks more desperate and confused by the second. “Maybe we should both go.”

Lance is already shaking his head before he finishes his sentence. “Keevah’s sick, baby. One of us has to stay home in case she gets worse, or throws up.” He slides off the bed, padding over to Keith and cupping his face gently. “Go, Keith. Bring him back, we’ll talk to him then, okay? I’ll wait up. Luis and Lisa aren’t far from here, it won’t take you more than twenty minutes both ways.”

“Right.” Keith takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. When he opens them again, most of the panic is gone, replaced with the same determination he always has when things get a little dicey and hopeless. “I’ll be back in a bit,” he says, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to Lance’s lips. Lance holds him there for a moment, trying to press a little bit more of his love into it than usual.

“I’ll be here.”

+1. Keith

A little less than an hour later, Lance hears their car pull into the driveway. He tugs his robe around him tightly, hurrying to open the door.

“Hey,” Keith says, kissing him quickly and then moving to let Sylvio come through. His face is creased in worry. Sylvio walks in after, silently, shoulders hunched and eyes puffy, face streaked with tears. Lance closes and locks the door behind him, reaching up to hug his nephew tightly.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

Sylvio sniffles, face crumpling. He leans into Lance’s embrace, face to his neck, and Lance feels his face get wet with tears again. “Hi, Tio.” His voice cracks.

Lance guides them both to the living room, setting them down on the couch.

“I’ll grab some tea,” Keith murmurs.

Lance hums at him, leaning back onto the cushions and stroking Sylvio’s hair as he cries. Keith is back shortly, setting three mugs on the coffee table and sitting on Sylvio’s other side, arm over the back of the couch. He’s silent for a while, waiting for the kid’s cries to peter out.

“What happened?” he asks, once Sylvio has finally calmed down a bit.

“Dad and I have been fighting a lot,” he says quietly. Lance winces. He’s heard from Lisa and Luis, of course, but he would have figured it out even if he hadn’t — Sylvio has called Luis ‘Papa’ every day of his life, since he was a little boy. He’s only called Luis ‘Dad’ when he’s furious, when he’s deliberately trying to hurt Luis, when both of them can barely stand to be in the same room as each other.

Lance rubs his shoulder. “What happened?”

Sylvio’s chin trembles, and another tear drips down his cheek. “He never — no one I bring home is ever good enough. Nadia can bring home whomever she wants and it’s never a problem, but when I do it, suddenly he has a million faults and he’s bad for me or too old for me or just a shitbag.” He makes a noise of frustration. “He treats me like a baby, like I’m incapable of of making a fucking decision for myself.”

As subtly as he can, Lance exchanges a look with Keith. This is not the first time this situation has been brought up, by more than one person. Sylvio calls Lance to complain about his parents on a semi-regular basis, and both Luis and Lisa have confided in him on more than one occasion.

The problem is, Sylvio is…kind of in the wrong, here.

Privately, when they try and make light of the situation, they joke that Sylvio has the Lance taste — that is, garbage. Before Keith, Lance was very good at falling for people who were either really bad for him, bad in general, didn’t like him, or treated him like shit. A good portion of that came from his own insecurity and cripplingly low self-esteem, and Sylvio is no exception.

Every guy he has brought home has been, to Luis’ credit, not good enough. Once it was someone who made fun of Sylvio every other sentence, once it was a guy who was three times his age, once someone who was clearly using Sylvio as a rebound… Luis saw it, but he was incapable of handling it in any way other than outright banning Sylvio from seeing whomever the loser of the month was, which went about as well as you would think.

It’s been an ongoing problem.

“I’m sorry you guys are fighting,” Lance says, because it’s truly not his place to try and parent Sylvio. He’s tried to guide both his brother and his nephew into the right direction, but neither listen. “I’m glad you called us first, though. That was the safest thing for you to do.”

Sylvio bites his lip. Keith shakes his head slightly.

Lance’s face drops. “Oh, Sylvio…”

His nephew’s face crumples. “I thought the party would be a good distraction,” he whispers. “I didn’t think — he’s supposed to love me, why did he —” Sylvio interrupts himself with a sob. Lance holds him tightly again. He’s not sure exactly what happened, and he won’t know until he can ask, but he can make a pretty good assumption.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Let it out.”

Sylvio cries on his shoulder for a while longer, long past when he runs out of tears, just dry-sobbing until his whole body shakes and his eyes must be burning. Lance holds him through it, and Keith keeps a steady hand on his back.

“Daddy?” comes a small voice, at least a half hour later. All three of them crane their necks towards the sound, seeing Keevah, eyes watery, standing in the low light of the kitchen with her stuffed lion clutched in her hand. “I threw up.”

Keith gets up immediately. “Oh, c’mere, sweetie.” He scoops her up, her head resting on his shoulder, then turns toward Lance. “I’ll put her back to bed, you get Sylvio to bed?”

Lance nods, and Keith heads back to her and Mason’s bedroom. Lance stands, gently pulling his nephew to his feet, guiding him to the guest room.

Once he’s got the bed turned down and Sylvio in some of Keith’s old pj’s, he tucks him into bed like he’s nine instead of nineteen, kissing him gently on the forehead.

“I’ll call your parents to let them know you’re safe, okay?” Sylvio nods, half asleep. “Sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

By the time Lance hits the lights, he’s out. Lance watches him for a moment, smiling sadly.

He’ll figure it out. Lance did, when he was nineteen, even though it sucked.

He pads over to his and Keith’s bedroom, exhausted, but knowing that he won’t be sleeping for a while. Keith is already there, pulling off his vomit-stained shirt — poor Keevah — and pulling on a fresh one.

“She okay?” Lance murmurs, crawling under the covers and into Keith’s open arms. Keith nods, tightening his hold and pressing a kiss to Lance’s hair.

“Yeah. Fell asleep halfway through her bath.”

“Poor thing.”

Keith is silent for a while, fingertips tracing circles on Lance’s lower back, but he’s nowhere near falling asleep. He’s tense as a live wire, and Lance can feel his heart pound where their chests are pressed together.

“I don’t understand,” he says eventually. His voice is so quiet Lance can barely hear him.

Lance doesn’t need him to specify. “I do.”

The mindless shapes Keith is tracing shift to something more deliberate, tapping, seeking comfort rather than mindless fidgeting.

“…Explain it to me?”

Lance shifts slightly, so he’s still in Keith’s hold but there’s a bit of space between them, so he can look Keith in the face.

“People trust you, Keith. There’s nothing to explain.” He leans in and presses a kiss to Keith’s neck, the hollow of his throat — not to instigate anything, but to touch, to press his lips somewhere vulnerable and say I am watching out for you. “You are so deliberate, my love. So devoted. Everyone knows it, even if they don’t realise it outright.”

Keith’s breathing is laboured. “I’m not what they think I am,” he says, voice wrecked. Lance presses another kiss right on his adam’s apple, to his trachea, to the underside of his jaw, to his chin.

“You are more than you think you are.”

“I’m not. I’m not.” Lance kisses right under his ear, and he tastes salt, from where a tear finally escaped and trailed down his cheekbone. “I’m a mess, Lance. Nothing about me is stable. Why do they rely on me?”

“I rely on you.”

“That’s different. We’re — you’re my husband. We rely on each other.”

Lance pauses for a second, gathering his thoughts, considering his angle. How can he explain the fundamental truth about Keith Kogane that is so obvious to everyone who knows him? That is the clearest part of him?

“When Pidge wanted to run from Voltron and find her family, who convinced her to stay?”

Keith is silent.

“When Shiro had flashbacks of his year of torture and couldn’t tell reality from nightmare, who sat with him until he could breath again?”

Keith’s chin trembles.

“When the Blades were out of ideas and out of luck, who changed everything?”

His breathing gets heavier. “Lance —”

Lance ignores him, barrelling on. “When Hunk’s panic attacks got so bad he was convinced he was having a heart attack, who squeezed his hand until he could breath again?”

Keith sobs. “Lance, that’s not —”

Lance reaches up to gently wipe the tears, staring at his husband until he finally looks back, until indigo meets brown and he knows that Keith is finally getting it.

“Who,” he asks quietly, determined, “was it that I came to, when there were five lions and six paladins? Who stepped down for me?”

Keith laughs wetly. “I gave you the worst pep talk in the world,” he protests, but Lance can finally hear the acceptance in his voice. He smiles.

“And yet.”

“And yet,” Keith agrees. He ducks down and kisses Lance soundly, hands cupping his face, lips moving like he’s trying to fuse himself to Lance.

“Thank you. For knowing and watching and waiting for me.”

“Always,” Lance murmurs, pressing their foreheads together. “Always, my star.”

#I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THE MOTIVATION TO FINISH THIS FOR 5 MONTHS #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #established klance #domestic klance #married klance #parents klance #keith & pidge #keith & hunk #keith & romelle #keith & allura #keith & lance’s family #tall keith #brown-eyed lance #hurt/comfort #longpost #fic #my writing #observant lance #devoted keith #keith is good with kids #post canon

[corvus--rex]

This got a pretty "meh" response on the bird app. Let's see how it does here. This is parts 1 & 2 as of right now

~~~

pt 1

Ever think that the tight clothes, gloves, tiny jacket that does absolutely nothing are because Keith believes he doesn't deserve care, comfort, softness? Lance hadn't, until he really noticed Keith's body language for the first time after the Blade trials. The tightly crossed arms, how he kept himself separated from everyone else even when in the same room, how he always looked ready to bolt at the slightest whisper. He kept everyone at arm's length, reinforcing that distance with sharp-tongued jabs and insults.

It got so much worse after Shiro disappeared. Keith's normally prickly at best exterior had been dipped in venom and no one could stop him from disappearing for hours in Red, scouring space for any sign of his missing brother. Lance couldn't even begin to articulate the relief he felt when it came time to have Black pick a new paladin. He didn't want Keith to be forced into a role he was in no fit state to be in and had already decided that he wanted it to be himself instead. Keith may be an asshole, but Lance cared about that asshole.

Lance reluctantly sat in the pilot's seat, running reverent fingertips over the controls. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, the silence of the cockpit holding the weight of a tomb until he finally let out a shaky breath.

"Hey, Black. I-I know you probably don't want me, but it's only me and Keith left, and I know what Shiro said about him leading the team if anything happened, but…I don't think he can do it, and I know I'm not the best option, but I'd rather it be me than him. He needs time to come back from this. He needs to be taken care of for once, and if this is only way I can do that, if it means I have to lead the team, I'll do it. I know I'm not as smart as Pidge or Hunk, but I'm stubborn as fuck and I'll get there. Just, please, let me take this on so he doesn't have to."

If the silence had been heavy before, now it was oppressive. Slowly, the weight became pressure, a focused pressure in the back of his mind, silence growing into a whisper. A soft purr rolled through the cockpit as the controls flared to life, filling the space with an ultraviolet glow.

Lance released the breath he'd been holding all at once. "Thanks. I'll give it my best."

He tried to get up, but Black's mental presence pushed him back down, the projected image feeling more real than illusory. He recognized the mechanical angelic wings from when Shiro had last flown the lion, but then the image shifted, a fully formed Voltron taking up his field of vision with similar but much larger wings. The feeling he got from Black was one of reassurance and a hint of things to come. With another soft rumble, the mental pressure dissipated, and Lance stood, Blacks head lowering as he walked down the ramp to the collective shouts and cheers from the team.

Lance couldn't help but notice one voice missing. Keith stood leaning against the wall but instead of the closed-off posture he almost always adopted, his arms hung limply at his sides, the shock on his face overshadowed by the tears of pure relief threatening to spill over. Lance shot him a small smile, one that said 'it's ok, I got you'. Keith understood, shooting one back in thanks as he wiped the tears away and slipped out without anyone else noticing. Lance watched him go, a realization just as startling as Black accepting him as his paladin hitting with the force of that very lion.

'Oh,'

Lance thought,

'Oh shit.'

He could barely hear the rest of the team over his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

'I think I'm falling in love with him.'

-~-

pt 2

Lance tried to make the adjustment period as smooth as possible, but they were all dealing with Shiro's loss, all grieving in their own way, although none quite like Keith. He tried to accommodate him as much as possible - Lance knew too well the pain of losing family - but he still needed to run the team through drills, both on the training deck and in space, forming Voltron again and again until he was confident they could do it in the heat of battle, especially with Allura flying Blue.

Outside of training, Lance was having a harder time keeping his newly realized feelings in check. Keith was more closed off than he'd been in a while, so Lance kept an eye on him as best he could, inviting Keith to game and movie nights in the lounge, including him in more conversations during mealtimes, but never pushing, and always respecting the answers he got.

Keith had actually started to relax a bit, accepting invitations when he was up to it sitting alongside the team but not always participating in whatever they were doing that night, letting himself get drawn into conversations even if he wasn't actively adding anything, just listening. Lance was starting to think they were making progress, both as a team and with their healing process, until Thayserix.

They'd lost Lotor in the gas giant, and Lance had to watch as Red took off beyond the shortened range of Black's sensors. He knew Keith couldn't possibly hope to track Lotor through the gas, and landed on a nearby mineral structure to wait.

He couldn't contact the team, and there was nothing to see within visual range, so he was left with only his own thoughts. Lance thought about how he was handling leading the team - he was honestly a little surprised they'd accepted him as Black Paladin, but when Lance brought it up just after training one day Allura had said that Black chose him for a reason, just as all the lions had chosen their Paladins. Both Hunk and Pidge told him that they had been friends for a while, far longer than they'd been in space, he'd been their pilot back when they were a flight crew at the Garrison, and while he may have been a little unhinged, they trusted him then and they still did. Coran echoed all of their sentiments, adding that he understood how hard it was to push forward while so far from home and that he was genuinely proud of Lance for continuing on in spite of everything. Lance nearly broke down in front of the whole team, instead accepting one of Coran's patented Dad Hugs™.

What Keith had said surprised him. He'd gotten pulled into what became the group hug with Coran on Lance's other side, and when they broke apart, he'd said quietly, for Lance only, "Shiro trusted you. He'd be happy it was you to fly Black. I trust you too. Black picked you and I'm happy he did. You're a better leader than I could be."

The soft, /shy/ look on Keith's face made Lance's brain short-circuit. He scrambled to come up with something, anything, even remotely coherent as he watched Keith walk out with the rest of the team.

The only thought that came to mind was 'How dare he be that cute?' Lance froze. 'Oh I am so fucked.'

#my writing #threadfic import #keith kogane #lance mcclain #keith x lance #klance #preklance #Black Paladin Lance #s.2+ rewrite?? I guess?? #idfk #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender

[the-kittens-of-vol-tron]

hi this is my third time trying to get back into VLD and honestly i think this time my juICES ARE FL O WING

soooo, my ao3 is nightingale231

and i was wondering if you could write any kind of,,, langst with smitten pining lance and specifically thinking keith deserves better?

[or mom friend lance tbh]

Your wish is my command (also I'll gift this to you on A03 :3)

I really debated between making this established klance and in the talking stage so I did a mix of both

-----

Lance felt like he was on cloud nine, his lips pressed against his formal rival. It was over as quick as it happened, Keith pulling away, his face matching the color on his armor.

"Don't you ever do that again." Keith looked him up and down, seeming to check him for any injuries.

"I will if it means you'll kiss me."

Keith rolled his eyes, "I can't kiss you if you're dead because you tried to sacrifice yourself for me."

"I tried to sacrifice myself for Voltron actually. Little self-centered there Keith," Lance poked his forehead.

Keith grabbed his wrist, "I like you too much to have you die on me."

Lance felt his face burn. The kiss should have been enough reason for him to realize Keith liked him back but hearing him say it made his knees weak.

Keith kissed him again, ignoring the rest of the team finally making their way into the Blue lion hanger. Lance kissed him back eagerly, trying to ignore the voice in the back of his head telling him he wasn't worth it.

---

He and Keith didn't immediately start dating, but they became joined at the hip. Their arguments died down into nothing, just slight bickering once in a while. You couldn't have one without the other. Everyone's bonds for Voltron became stronger. The team was running better than ever.

"You awake?" Keith whispered in the dark of the room.

Lance moved slightly, being mindful of the boy next to him, "yeah."

"Can't sleep?"

"You're the one to talk."

Keith chuckled in the dark, "I'm just lost in thought."

"What about?"

"How much I like this guy I know."

Lance smiled, more to himself than to the other boy. No matter how many times Keith implied his feelings towards him, he still found himself flustered. "What would you tell this mystery guy."

"That I like him a lot, and he makes me happy and I like being around him."

Lance felt the other boy's lips pressed against his cheek.

"And I was wondering if he would be interested in being my boyfriend."

Lance thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest; he wondered if Keith could hear it. His chest swam with a mix of emotions, tightening a bit as the feeling. He liked Keith, he liked him more than he could put into words. But he was just Lance. He was a nobody compared to Keith.

If they didn't end up in space together Keith wouldn't have known who he was, let alone have feelings for him. He knew he wasn't the best person for Keith.

"Did you fall asleep?" Keith's voice had a hint of disappointment to it.

"No, sorry just thinking."

"About what I asked?"

"Yeah...um." He couldn't faintly see Keith's outline in the dark.

"You don't have to say yes." Keith began to lean back to lie down.

"I didn't say no."

"So...?"

"Yes, I would love to be your boyfriend."

Keith propped himself back up, quickly finding Lance's lips. Lips kissed him back, trying to will his brain to shut up.

---

They had been dating for almost two months, and Lance was absolutely smitten with Keith in every way possible. Dating Keith was better than he could have ever imagined. Keith was soft when it was just the two of them. He was completely different than when they were with the team. He let his guard down, relaxed more, he whispered sweet things in his ears. Lance couldn't believe that Keith wanted to be with him. That Keith chose him.

The unfortunate part about being with Keith, someone who Shiro (y'know the best pilot in the Garrison) mentored, someone who was at the top of his class at the Garrison, someone who was good at everything he did; Lance couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't worthy of him.

Lance knew he had a place in Voltron but lately, he had been questioning his status as the right leg of Voltron. He just didn't feel like he contributing to the team in a valuable way. In a way that no one else could.

And sometimes, even when Lance just wanted to simply spend time with his boyfriend, his brain picked apart every reason why he wasn't enough for Keith. Why Keith should find someone better.

He kept his thoughts to himself, making sure he didn't worry his boyfriend or the team. He could push through these thoughts.

"Lance? You spaced out there."

He blinked at the voice, pulling himself out of the dissociative state he found himself in. "We are in space so."

"Ha good one Lance!" Hunk replied.

Shiro gave him a slight frown, "you okay?"

Lance nodded, "yeah sorry. Just lost in thought."

"Okay. We were just discussing the mission."

Lance looked up at the hologram, "looks good to me."

"Okay. Then this is the idea we're going with. Get some rest everyone." Shiro dismissed the team and everyone dispersed.

"You want to watch a movie?" Keith stood in front of his boyfriend, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Yeah...yeah a movie sounds good. You pick though." He stood from his chair, letting his boyfriend take his hand and drag him towards his bedroom.

"You're not even paying attention." Keith poked his cheek.

"I am, I swear."

"Who's Gazel?"

"....She's the main character?"

"No one in this movie is named Gazel. Something is on your mind. You can tell me."

Lance stared at his boyfriend, for a brief movement he thought about spilling his guts to him. Telling him all his insecurities. He opened his mouth, "I love you."

Keith's face fell into a surprised expression before he smiled, "I love you too."

---

Sleep began to escape from Lance. No matter how much he tried he found himself tossing and turning throughout the night. His anxiety would rip any peace he managed to hold in his grasp.

Which is how he found himself sitting on the observatory desk, a blanket wrapped around him. He watched the stars dance around in his vision, his eyes burning no matter how many times he blinked. All he wanted to do was sleep.

"Babe? What are you doing in here?"

He closed his eyes, he knew Keith would eventually stumble upon him. "Hey." He didn't even have the energy to turn and face him.

Keith softly walked over to him, sitting down next to him. "You weren't in bed."

"Couldn't sleep."

"You couldn't sleep the past couple of nights...or last couple of weeks."

Lance took a deep breath, "yeah."

"What's been on your mind?"

"Oh, stupid things. Nothing you need to worry about mullet."

"Lance...we've talked about you lying to me."

"It's not a lie."

"I don't think it's stupid."

"You don't even know what it is."

"True, but anything that bothers you is not stupid."

Lance pulled his knees closer to his chest, he knew this was a dumb argument to have with his boyfriend. "I just...I think... never mind let's just go back to bed."

"No, what were you going to say?" Keith leaned into his side slightly. "I won't be mad at whatever you have to say."

"Okay...I think you deserve better."

"What do you mean?" Keith's voice was hesitant as if he was thinking of the worst-case scenario of Lance's words.

"I think you deserve better. I don't think I'm good for you...or that I live up to what you need."

"What do you think I need?"

"Someone who can hold a candle to you. You're like...one of the best pilots in the word, you are a great swordsman, everything you do is just...good. And then I'm beside you just not contributing."

"You don't think you contribute?"

"Not really. You could have anyone in the world and you chose me? Something doesn't add up."

"I chose you because I love you."

"But if we didn't end up here," Lance gestured to the Castle, "you wouldn't know me. You wouldn't love me. I wouldn't exist to you."

Keith didn't respond for a couple of moments, his eyes scanning the stars. "You're right. I wouldn't know you. Or Hunk or Pidge. I would still be living in the shack, going crazy over the Blue lion. And I probably wouldn't be in a relationship either."

Lance didn't respond, he didn't know what to say. Keith wasn't wrong.

"I chose you Lance because I like you. You make me happy, you are someone I feel drawn to. And you're the team sharpshooter; you can come up with plans on the fly and hold the team together even if you don't realize it. Without you, we wouldn't be Voltron."

"I guess."

"Babe, look at me."

Lance turned his body to meet his boyfriend's eyes. Keith reached up and gently touched his cheek. "I love you. I love you more than I can put into words. You are everything I want and more. You amaze me every day and you will continue to amaze me. This anxiety is just anxiety. Not the truth."

"I'm worried you're going to find someone else." He closed his eyes, "someone better than me."

"Lance the only person I'm looking for is a witness for when we get married."

"I think that's for future Keith and Lance."

"And I'm excited for them to get to that point."

Lance leaned forward and connected their lips softly, this time he shushed his anxiety.

-----

I hope you liked it :3

Thank you <33333

#langst #klangst #klance #keith is a loving boyfriend #keith is good with words #lance is insecure #no beta #my writing #long post #posted on a03 #gifted on a03 #lance #lance vld #lance voltron #lance mcclain #keith #keith vld #keith voltron #keith kogane #established klance #thank you <3

[seldomscilence16]

Whumptober day 29:

"I only sink deeper the deeper I think."

Scented candles | troubled past resurfacing | "What happened to me?"

Fandom: Voltron

Prompts used: all

Oof so this ones a little rough, but it was what I could come up with. Yell at me if you will :)

TW for implied abuse, injuries, blood mentions but not major.

…

The candle is oddly shaped- though he couldn't tell you what he thought it was supposed to be shaped like- and sat innocently in the center of the dining table. It was a gift, for some reason, and Lance felt like it was a test of some kind. It wouldn't be first.

Lance doesn't lite it, not today, he'll wait until HE says it's okay. Just to be safe.

The candle is lit, HE is gone again, and Lance has just awoken, the smell is new and fills the space so fully it's suffocating. He feels a headache building and turns to bury his face in his pillow.

/

"Leandro! Don't go too far! Pequeño bribón, Lancito!" The voice is worried but fond. (Little rascal)

"I'm fine mama! I'm gonna-" a shriek, cuts off the sentence, blurred view of tumbling down a rocky hill.

"LEANDRO!"

Something snaps, and pain erupts up his arm, there's blood- his arm?

/

Lance wakes from the light doze confused, a phantom ache in his arm. He sits up, cautiously dragging his sleeve up, he stares like he'd never seen it before, and wonders if he had. Scars litter the tan skin, old and newer, healing bruises doing little to hide them.

He presses on one-

/

The boy beside him holds his arm tenderly beneath cool sink water,

"Hermano, it's not that big a deal, I burn myself all the time, so do you!"

"But I burned you! I didn't-"

"Didn't mean to? I know, I was in the way and the pan was bigger than I thought. Give me a cookie and we're all good."

/

He gasps, the teen burned into his eyelids. His heart aches and his head pounds, as he tries to place where he knows him from. He'd looked like Lance, not like HIM, or the weird people on TV, he looked like Lance-

Human.

He had been human, like Lance. Lance was a human, who knew other humans at some point. He stumbles to his feet, dizzy as he makes his way to the bathroom, he splashes water on his face and meets his own eyes in the mirror. One Brown, one Blue.

/

"Think the team will notice, beautiful?"

Perhaps, if they can look up for a moment.

"Ha! You are not wrong there… maybe I can find contacts, switch back and forth and see who notices first…"

Amusing, they do claim to be observant.

The mocking in her mental voice makes Lance chuckle again.

"Don't worry Blue, I'll always appreciate you even if they don't."

And I you.

/

He stumbles back, hands in his hair as his head seems fit to burst with how harshly it pounds-

/

Cub, breathe.

"I shouldn't be c-cold. Why is it s-so c-c-cold?"

I have raised the temperature, you are within the safety of my walls, I will not let any harm come.

"R-red, why m-me? W-why is i-it always m-me?"

I wish I knew cub… you do not deserve it. I am here.

/

Blue, Red, voices, presences in his mind, how could he forget about two whole presences in his MIND! What is going on?!

He struggles to dress himself, the clothes ill fitting- HE likes them loose- but he manages, he doesn't have shoes- he doesn't leave this place- but the cloth on his feet resembles socks. SOCKS how did he forget what SOCKS were!? He slides into the main part of the building, his eyes fall on the candle and the purple flame-

/

Seventh wheel.

Too many paladins.

Leave the math to Pidge.

Not now Lance!

I told you to stay out of this!

Lance! Don't ever scare me like that again!

Lance, I'm sure you can find something to do without getting into trouble hm?

Mighty paladin, fallen before my feet, mine I shall make you, my quite the feat!

/

"What happened to me?" He's curled up on the floor, tears tracking down his face.

His heart thumps heavily in his chest, longing for something, he needs to get out of here. He had a life before this- however complicated it seemed- but if he stayed, he may not have a life after.

The Alien that had been parading around here, talking about some life they had together, making up quiznaking BS about life long mates, was a phonier phony than he thought.

Lance had not lost his memory in some weird accident, it had been on purpose! Maybe…. he still didn't know, but HE would be back eventually, and HE would surely be mad again. Lance needed a way out.

"Alright memories… I only sink deeper the deeper I think. So chill out for a minute, bueno? Bueno…"

He drags himself over to the table, snuffing the candle-

/

Burning.

Burned flesh.

It fills his nose.

Everything's bURNING!

HELP!

/

"Mierda!" Blood dribbles down his chin, lip sore and throbbing where teeth had bitten through skin.

Out. A way out. Come on Lance, you've been cleaning this place as long as you can remember- ha- there's gotta be a way out!

He starts with the front door; biometric lock, Lance can't find a panel to open.

The windows; thick, tinted, none openable, does not break with a chair, no ground in sight.

No back door. No laundry chute, no neighbors he can hear, no skylight, Garbage chut-

Garbage chute!

Disgusting, but his only option.

The thing is large, to fit the large bags he assumes, it does not smell, it seems pretty clean considering, but Lance can only assume what's at the bottom. Rotting food, alien bugs, an incinerator!? This could be a terrible idea.

But… it's his only one. He grabs the biggest knife from the kitchen, wraps it up to hopefully avoid stabbing himself, and stares at the chute. He sits in it awkwardly, his brain niggling on the idea of a 'slide' but Lance doubts this will be fun.

His scream is a squeaky breathy thing, to remain as quiet as possible and still release his terror as he goes down into the dark unknown. Falling for several long moments before a light appears and he slows his descent with protesting skin burning all the while.

His chest heaves as he stares at the opening, a pile of trash bags, no heat, he sends a prayer to whoever's listening, and falls.

.

.

.

He must look like a loonatic, running around as he is with no idea where he is or why. But he stops for no one, no rushing memories coming to him at anything he registers before him. He runs, he doesn't look back, everything aches, but he pushes, he's been through worse-

Gods he's been through worse.

He only slows as he reaches some sort of port, spaceships coming and going. He has no money, but he will be leaving this place, if it's the last thing he does.

He doesn't see the screen beside him light up with his face:

Missing:

Paladin of Voltron

*image*

"What happened to me?"

Tips or info sent to xxxxx

He doesn't look back.

#whumptober 2023 #no.29 #I only sink deeper the deeper I think #lyric #scented candles #troubled past resurfacing #what happened to me? #voltron legendary defender #fic #implied abuse #blood mentions #injuries #cliff hanger #angst #langst

[chibi-pix]

Chibi watches V3D 12

Another night of Voltron: The Third Dimension! Sorry for skipping last night, had an online get together to celebrate a friend's birthday and that was more important than Voltron. Anyway! Without further ado, here we go!

Listening and hearing the ethereal Alfor voice… does he have the same voice actor as Lotor? Does Tim Curry play him, too? Looking it up, I was right! There’s just something about Tim Curry’s voice that makes him easy to pinpoint at time, y’know?

WHOA WHOA WHOA WHOA! WHAT THE QUIZNAK!?!?!!? Alfor was telling a tale of how he faced a great foe, this guardian spoke to him, and looking into the eyes of a dragon, he left it in chains. Okay, back in Dracotron, it was was said of ancient magic being used but… Unless there are more dragons left in chains in the universe, could it be probable that ancient stories were wrong and Alfor trapped that dragon mech!? I mean, something about it feels amazingly right.

And there goes Alfor’s memorial. Ouch. Dudes, I get you’re pirates, but seriously, have you any respect for the dead? Oh great, now Haggar’s here. And counting on the Alfor ghost. Now that’s a witch with no respect for the dead. “Just think of me as your friendly ghostbuster.” I love the reference. But Haggar? Friendly you are not. And now I’m worried because this episode is called “Dark Heart”. Initially I thought she’d corrupt the others, but… she’s striking Alfor. Oh boy… “Your father once stole my heart.” Wait… what?! Haggar, did you once have a thing for Alfor?

“You were so dashing when you were young, Alfor.” Oh yeah. She definitely had a thing for Alfor. That’s something I didn’t expect. Oh…. She’s gonna put Alfor in a robeast. Hoo boy. Though. Haggar having her own memorial for Alfor. Lady? You are hung up on this man.

Oh hey! The lion claw returns! It’s nice to see it appear again. Makes it a bit more important and not just a plot device for one episode.

“Now me? I always follow orders.” Lance’s sassy tone. I love it.

Oh snap! Young Haggar!? Holy crow! I mean… She looks so nice! OH SHIT! She ended up being with Zarkon?! OH SHIT! Does that mean it’s possible in this version she’s Lotor’s mother?! Is this where VLD got the idea of Haggar (Honerva) being with Zarkon!?!?!?! But. I’mma be honest. I kinda like how young Haggar looks in this show more than she did when shown in Fleet of Doom.

Have you ever been so corrupted and pissed that you took one lion and smacked them with another lion? Robeast-Alfor apparently has. And. There’s something actually funny about that.

Almost fifteen minutes in and I wonder if they’re gonna use the lion claw to help cleanse Alfor’s heart and get him out of that robeast.

Oh hey, guardian voice. History repeats itself. HAH! I love Allura just shutting off her comms to ignore Keith. Oh hey, love and a gemstone from Alfor’s monument helped. I was wrong about the lion claw.

Oh snap, Voltron can take off their wings to create a sort of boomerang. Wowza.

I almost felt sorry for Haggar but… her vendetta against Arus because of the past making her so bitter…. Oh well. Also, Allura in a dress. That’s new. I kinda wish they’d let us have the others in other outfits, too.

Watching this show, I will be honest. Some things are just… off. But some of the space aesthetics? Beautiful. I just love space backgrounds. And the purple in this episode? Right up my alley!

Anyway, that's all for the night. Until next time!

#chibi watches #chibi watches v3d #voltron the third dimension #v3d #chibi writes #no one warned me that haggar was so beautiful before she was corrupted

[hilplusterrorss]

For the ask game: the Wizard of Oz! Failing that, Voltron (I think you liked these two?)

Ooo you're right i love both of these! Let's see

Favorite male character: the Tin Man, definitely! He's such a genuine and kindhearted character, ironically enough, and there's just something really compelling about existing in a state of dependence on your friends to keep you from basically being trapped in stasis (they have to oil his joints or he'll rust until he can't move)

Favorite female character: not that there's many to choose from in the original novel, i think Dorothy is my favorite of the ladies there :) it's easy to forget if you watch the movie the the character is actually like 12 since Judy Garland looked 16 at least, so in the movie she seems overly weepy and helpless, but for an actual child, not only does that make sense, but also her internal journey is more substantial

Least favorite character: if i was including The Land of Oz (book 2), it would without a doubt be Mr. H. M. Wogglebug, T. E., or General Jinjur, for an abundance of reasons, but in the original novel? This is actually a hard choice, but i guess I'll go with the Wicked Witch of the West. A little basic, but she's not as iconic as in the movie, honestly just a mean old woman who enslaves Dorothy and the Lion and torments the former in hopes of getting her shoes. She's genuinely just awful and nothing else.

Prettiest character: Glinda i guess

Funniest character: the Cowardly Lion :) he's more comical in the movie than the book (he was a decently prominent Broadway/vaudeville actor as well) but i just love him

Favorite season: n/a

Favorite episode: episode isn't the right word but i really like this one chapter in the book where the group passes through a village of people made of china. I like specifically what Dorothy learns from them about the world

Favorite romantic ship: Tin Man/Scarecrow for liffeeeeeeeee

Favorite family ship: the main four tbh. I love how close they grow to each other and take care of one another

Favorite friendship: hard to say. I really like, on an individual level, Dorothy's relationship with Scarecrow, as he was the first one she met on her own and despite not knowing much, was always eager to help her in any way he could

Worst ship: i would not like to think about all the different ships lol. There's not a lot there i don't think bc a lot of the characters are either too separate in age or don't fit well in the same space

#thanks!! #askbox #anon #the wizard of oz

[slothgiirl]

the medic (keith x reader)

17k. something weird’s going on with keith, like alien weird. as the team medic, you’re concerned.

“So he is avoiding me,” you muse aloud, grabbing one of the pink alien food biscuits that were Hank’s latest experiment. Though it had been hours since Voltron had taken out the Galra Empire’s presence on this Balmera, you’d only just seen the last of your patients. Altean medical equipment did wonders.

After a battle, you were hardly surprised to find Hank in the kitchen, grounding himself as he cooked. You were surprised to run into Keith.

“Yeah,” Hank nods, “Probably trying to avoid another dental exam.”

You flush bright red, “His teeth fell out! Sorry for being concerned.” Between you and Lance, you’d managed to get a look at Keith. A fist fight with some alien species that was cooperating with the Galra had not gone Keith’s way, knocking out two of his teeth.

Shiro, predictably, had waved it off and accepted Keith’s insane explanation that his teeth would grow back on their own without question: given his hand waving of the red paladin’s eyes glowing slightly in the dark, more than any human’s should (human eyes didn’t glow at all!). Hindsight was twenty twenty.

The yellow paladin shrugs as he mixes orange noodle-esque things in a bowl.

Team Voltron was full of strong personalities. Add in Lotor and his friends dropping in, there was always something going on.

Hank just wanted to unwind from spending the past few hours destroying heavy duty mining equipment without hurting the planet. “So how are the biscuits?”

You chew on one, still bothered by Keith. Maybe Hank was right and he was trying to hide something from your keen gaze. You hoped not. Knowing the red paladin, and after two years in space, you certainly did, he’d rather suffer in silence until there was no other option than get medical attention. Back on earth with needles and scalpels, you understood, but in the Castle of Lions…

“Kind of like a rice cracker,” you tell Hank helpfully. “In a good got snacks at H-Mart way, not the sad quaker oats rice snacks.”

“Oh H-Mart,” Hunk smiles, “they don’t have those in space. They do have salt though. Found that at the last market we went to.”

“As long as alien food doesn’t poison us,” you comment. It was lucky that hadn’t happened. It was alien food. But not one negative reaction which either made humans some of the most hardy species or you were just lucky.

“Yeah,” Hunk chuckles, “I’ve gotten pretty good at recognizing what’s edible and not. I know Pidge said there’s some books, but my Altean is pretty bad.”

“Languages are hard.”

“Wish there was a space version of google translate.”

“Hunk-”

“Yeah.”

“That’s genius!” You look at the yellow paladin, wondering how a universe with speech translators never thought to do the same for written language.

“I know,” Hunk smiles while popping another tray into the oven.

—————

Lance finishes painting your toenails. It was a rare day when there were no space battles or rebel meetings. “Pidge,” the blue paladin whines, “let me paint your-”

“Don’t even think about it!”

“It’s supposed to be team bonding night,” Lance counters.

“Lance,” Allaura frowns from where she’s sitting with Shiro, “the castle’s night cycle has not started.”

“Well we can change it,” he counters, “there’s no up or down in space. OR day or night.”

“You can paint my nails,” Hunk offers. “Won’t last long though between the cooking and the vents I’ve been cleaning. This is a 10,000 year old castle. No offence,” he glances at Allura.

“No offence at all. The battles have taken their toll and I’m sure Coran appreciates the help. He is only one man.” She lets out a sigh. The only other remaining Altean was a bittersweet subject for her.

Hunk kicks off his shoes. “My pleasure. Literally. This Castle is so cool. The artificial gravity alone!”

You watch the paint dry on your toes. Only your big toes had actual drawings on them, strange alien creatures you’d all encountered over your time in space. The others were clear with green and blue swirls. “You’re a good artist Lance.”

The blue paladin winks, “I’m a regular old Michaelangelo.”

You laugh, “of course you are.”

“And I’m not just good with a brush,” he wiggles his eyebrows, more boyish flirting than anything serious.

You roll your eyes.

Pidge throws a cushion at Lance. “Oh please like you’ve got past the first date!”

“I have! Vivian Tran from Calculus.”

“Can you focus on my nails,” Hunk asks, but Lance is busy waving the thin brush in hand as he argues with Pidge.

“And Atticus from Cantonese.”

“Didn’t you drop that class,” Hank asks.

“Well, the hindi teacher was way nicer and didn’t hate me. I was good at drawing the characters though.”

“Can you speak hindi,” you ask, having taken French for your language fulfillment.

“Eh-” Lance shrugs.

“Can you flirt in Hindi is the real question,” you ask with a grin.

“He can’t even flirt in English,” Pidge points out scathingly.

“Hey!”

“My nails Lance,” Hunk grumbles.

“Right. Right,” Lance focuses back on his task, going with a yellow that matches Shay. “What language did you take Shiro?”

“English.”

“How many dialects does Earth have,” Allura asks.

“A lot,” Shiro tells the alien princess. “The Garrison pushes being multilingual in its program. Most cadets were already bilingual to start with, generally covering major languages.”

“Ah.”

“Got bored of the training room,” Pidge asks Keith as he walks in, flopping down on an empty sofa.

“It timed out.”

“Sure,” Lance immediately starts, a dog with a bone, “not like you couldn’t beat it or anything.”  

“You can’t even get past level 9!” Keith growls back, sitting up with a jolt, skin still slick from sweat and his cheeks were flushed with exertion.

Lance gets up, puffing out his chest. Oh boy, here they go again. The rivalry thing they had going on got old fast to everyone around them. While it did push them to be better paladins, it was annoying to hear. “Oh like you’re any better.”

Hunk takes the brush from Lance, finishing off his last toe on his own.

“I am,” Keith bites back, a growl still audible from his chest.

“Only because you cheat!”

“It’s not cheating!”

“How is it not-” Lance stops, furrows his brow, then grins. “You got a little something there.” And like a thirteen year old, Lance points and laughs.

Keith frowns, his hand coming up to his cheek.

Sure enough, Lance was right. Keith had a couple of angry red blemishes on his cheek.

“You have adult acne,” Lance giggles, immature as ever. He was always able to find an angle to everything. It was what made him such an excellent strategist.

“It’s not adult acne!” Keith scowls, scratching at the blemishes.

“Its been three years,” Lance retorts smugly.

You frown. “No. It’s been like two.” You look over at Pidge to confirm, “Right?” You were like ninety percent sure you were twenty.

“Two and a half,” Pidge answers.

“Ha! You’re twenty! Adult-”

“I don’t have adult acne!”

They’d fought over more meaningless things before.

If it was two and a half years, maybe you were twenty one? You frown. How old would you be before you ever saw your family again?

Stashing that depressing thought away, you focus on Keith and the red marks on his cheek like a line coming down to his jaw. “It could be a rash,” you utter thoughtfully. Pidge and you had already encountered a very itchy plant before. “Or space ringworm-ring line?”

For the first time in days, Keith looks at you, meeting your gaze. “It’s not a rash!”

You lift your hands up, “okay. Okay. Geez.” When it came to Keith, you didn’t push too hard. He was too stubborn for it to work.

Lance, however, “hey, it’s okay Keith-buddy, just use toothpaste.”

“Toothpaste makes it worse,” Hunk counters. “Not great for your skin either.”

“It always worked for me,” Lance counters. “Or a clay skin mask.”

“Clay? You mean that green mud,” Keith clarifies.

“It’s clay!”

“Clay would work,” you agree with Lance. “Hey it could be like a spa day!”

“I could go for a spa,” Hunk nods.

Pidge shakes her head, “right. I’m going to try and see if I can get a signal back home.”

Shiro looks over at you, “do you really think it could be something serious?”

You shrug. “No clue.”

Keith huffs, “Just drop it,” he states dramatically, headed for the door. He was over being the center of attention.

“So face masks?”

You nod, “want to try it Allura?”

“I would love to try the clay mask,” she smiles brightly.

——————

Te-Osh’s rebels had sent for Voltron, less fighting than rebuilding.

While you were no paladin, you had spent the majority of the day helping Allura take stock and synthesizing medicine, everything from serums to numbing gels. Just your luck the machine had overheated and given out on the last batch. It was a pretty large machine.

You stick your head inside, waving off the smoke. With your nails, you pry open the hutch and take stock. You were no Pidge or Hunk, still unsure how the thing even worked, but it was clear it needed a new regulator and starter. “Plenty of those lying around,” you utter, scrunching your face at the awful burnt hair smell. Your finger finds the ventilator button on your wrist controls, and there-the smell gets sucked out of the room.

“Is this a bad time,” Keith asks behind you.

Startled, you bang your head on the mental. “Keith,” flushing hotly when you look back and realize you were ass up in front of him.

He doesn’t even notice, grimacing, hand rubbing his nose bridge.

“What’s wrong?” You hurry to wash your hands.

Keith sits down at one of the medbay tables. “My skull feels like it’s being cracked open,” he explains flatly.

You look him over closely, standing right in front of him. “Where exactly,” you ask, frowning when you notice the blemishes had grown to a full blown rash, hot angry skin peeling and cracking like twin marks down his cheeks. You should have pressed. What if it was a parasite? Keith was half galra.

It was easily forgotten given how human he looked. Sure, the signs were there: his unhuman night vision, more strength than he should have, good ears and nose, nails that had torn through metal, but it all faded into the background.

“Does it itch,” you ask, raising your hand, fingertips hovering over the marks on his cheeks.

“Yes,” Keith nods, averting his eyes from your gaze, “mostly it’s hot. And my sinuses…all the way down to my neck. Hurt.”

“Hm,” you turn, reaching for the medical scanner. There was no way you could ever go back to being a medical officer at the galaxy garrison. Earth’s technology was ancient in comparison. “Hold still.”

“Alright,” he says seriously. Keith holds his breath.

You look up at him, in his violet eyes, and smile before laughing. “Keith!”

“You said to hold still,” he points out sincerely, before the corners of his lips turn up. Keith was an expressive guy, his smile lit up his entire being, a lightness in his eyes that made you smile wider.

“Let’s try this again,” you giggle, clicking the scanner and aiming right at his rash first. “Pew.”

He rolls his eyes, snorting. “You too?”

“Mine’s the only right one,” you wink, then look over the reading.

“Not even close.” He scratches at his cheek listlessly.

Whatever reason he had for avoiding you had worked itself out. You’d missed his company.

“Oh yeah,” you challenge, “then what’s the sound?” The readings came up clear. Keith was in perfect health. So not a parasite…space allergies? Those wouldn’t come up on the scanner.

“What is it,” Keith asks, noticing your pensive expression.

“How’s your sense of smell? Stuffy nose?”

He looks up, then takes a deep breath, “now that you mention it…I can’t smell your soap anymore.”

“What?” This was news to you. “You can smell my soap?”

“And whatever planet we’ve been on,” Keith fidgets, blushing as he ducks his head, bangs falling over his eyes, “the soil. It’s all different. But I can’t right now.”

That was worrying. But if the scanner said nothing was wrong…you had to wait and see. It might clear up on its own. You’d give it a day or two.

“Nothing came up on the scanner,” you tell him, “so it should go away on its own. It might just be allergic to something out here.”  

He nods, accepting your diagnosis.

“Let me get the medicine.”

“Mhm.”

You pass him a tube of gel and add that to the list of medication you need to synthesize once you fix the machine. Then grab a weekly supply of pain tabs. “Here.”

Keith pops one in immediately.

“Let me know if it doesn’t clear up in two days,” you tell him.

“Worried?”

“Eh, I can always set Lance on you again,” you snort. Shiro was a pushover when it came to Keith. He was no help.

Keith laughs, looking a little more himself. “I could take him.”

“You could,” you agree, “but don’t tell him I said that.”

He tilts his head, smiling. “Coming? Shay got food for us.”

“I’ve got to fix this machine first.”

“Need help?”

“Might ask Hunk or Coran,” you admit.

“I could-”

“No,” you cut him off, placing your hand on his shoulder, “go eat and rest. That’s an order.”

Keith leans into you. “Are you going to write me a doctor’s note too,” he asks, his delivery always so earnest you had to do a double take to figure out if he was joking or not.

“If I have too,” you stick your nose in the air. “I’ll even send one to Zarkon.”

Keith laughs easily. “Why didn’t Lotor think of that.”

You snort. “I’m going to check your lymph nodes,” you tell him, taking a step towards him again. “That okay?”

Keith tilts his head back, “Go for it.”

“Wow,” you chuckle, “who are you and what did you do with Keith Kogane.” You brush his hair out of his face.

“What?”

“Remember when you broke your arm,” you point out, gently pressing your fingers over the side of his throat, feeling the swelled bean shaped lymph nodes under his ears, behind his jaw. “And said nothing for like a week?” It had been your first year at the Galaxy Garrison.

“It was only a sprain,” Keith grumbles.

“Still!” You laugh, “I’m glad you asked for help.” Because this was still Keith and you didn’t want him to think you were laughing at him.

“Mm,” he closes his eyes as you trail your fingers lower, making sure it wasn’t too bad.

The fact they were inflamed at all worried you. You had no clue what was the space equivalent of antihistamines.

Keith’s breath tickles your shoulder, deepening and evening out like he’d finally relaxed. That was most of your patients once you gave them answers and they knew they’d be getting care and treatment. You liked helping people.

You pull your fingers back, ever the consummate professional. It was like the ghost of your garrison advisor was hovering over your shoulder. “They’re not too swollen if you can still eat. Can you still chew?”

“Hm?”

Keith opens his eyes. His expression is glazed and feverish.

“Keith,” you utter, worried.

“Yeah?” His gaze is heavy as it meets yours.

Your skin warms up because he wouldn’t stop looking at you like that.

“Any jaw pain,” you ask, focusing on the task at hand. You bring your hand up to his forehead. He was warm.

Keith leans into your touch, “no.”

“Good.” You bite your lip. Could it be some weird galra thing? Wouldn’t it have come up? You feel your own forehead. He was for sure warmer.

You were going to have to corner Coran about it.

Keith lets his eyes fall shut again and honest to god purrs, leaning into you.

Add cornering Lotor to your list.

You don’t pull away, figuring it was harmless. Lance, Hunk, and Allura were more prone to random hugs. You were more than happy to indulge Keith as well. He already wasn’t feeling well.

You wrap your arms around the red paladin’s shoulders, hugging him, “I’m looking forward to a break from Coran’s post mission food goo once I get done with the machine.”

“Mm.”

He was completely out of it.

His breath tickles your cheek.

“Though I’m not sure there’ll be any left if I don’t go there? Maybe I should grab a plate and then come back here,” you ramble. Keith had never sought you out for comfort. It was touching that he trusted you now. You’d been friends with the others before, with Keith and Shiro and the Alteans, you had skipped right over friendship and gone right to family.

“Oh.”

You look behind you.

Te-Osh takes a step back, “forgive my intrusion. I was unaware-”

Keith snaps out of whatever was going on with him. Bolting off the exam table. “It’s fine. We’re done here.” He hunches his shoulders and beelines for the door.

You frown, still processing.

“I can come back,” Te-Osh tells you, glancing between you and the door Keith had just escaped through.

You shrug. “No. I’ve got time. What do you need?”

“If you’re sure?”

Nodding, you smile, “yeah, what can I help you with?”

———————

“Here is where we will focus the blunt of the attack on. Keith, Lance, engage the fighters. Hunk,” Shiro explains, “you’ll be with me taking out the communications towers. We want to keep the damage to the minimum. The resistance leaders want the factory intact. Pidge-”

Pidge waves the Black Paladin off, “I’ve got the code written.”

“It really does come in handy,” Lance observes, “all those vents are Pidge size.”

The green paladin grumbles, “easy for you to say when you’re not the one crawling around in there. It’s not your knees getting banging up.”

“Well the galra are all like nine feet tall,” Hunk points out, “the vents probably aren’t that small from their perspective.”

Lance unsubtly glances over at Keith.

His rash had cleared up, but not before spreading. In its place were two purple slash marks running from his cheek to jaw, galra markings. No one had pressed…yet.

You were just glad it wasn’t some weird space parasite.

Her brother ruffles her hair, “Pidge sized! A micro pidge,” Matt jokes to himself.

She smacks his hand away, “five feet is a perfectly reasonable size.’

“She could still have a growth spurt,” you add, though it was highly unlikely.

“No,” Matt’s eyes go comically wide as he hugs his sister, “not my hobbit,” relishing in her embarrassment.

“Matt!”

“In summation,” Allura calls you all back to attention, “the paladins will take out Galra forces and Pidge will open the weapons factory up to Vexuin rebels to take over. I will be manning the Castle to ensure no fighters target the work camps and coordinating communications with the rebels.” She turns to look at you, “Matt and you will take down the sentries, freeing the people from the work camps.”

“No!”

Everyone looks over at Keith. The horror on his face is easy to read.

What had brought this on?

Shiro clears his throat.

Keith ducks his head, letting his bangs obscure his features.

“Why not,” Pidge asks grumpily, time was running out. You were all just ironing out the details, “your plans suck.”

“Pidge,” Shiro chastises.

The green paladin was right.

Keith fought the same way you played video games, caring about nothing but reducing the enemies stats to zero. He’d gotten great at teamwork, but he was hardly a strategist.

“Keith,” Allura asks, “do you have any legitimate reasons why Matt should go on his own?” And when she phrased it like that…

The red paladin crosses his arms over his shoulders.

Pidge taps her foot on the floor.

“Okay then,” Shiro takes over, “let’s get to our lions.”

“Coms. Come in earthlings!,” Coran chimes in over the system, “remember this planet’s atmosphere is toxic to breath, too much sulfur in the air, not to mention the heat will give you all a taste of the slipperies. And worse! So keep those space suits on Vol-”

“-Tron,” Lance grins back, having taken a liking to having a kooky space alien uncle.

You lock your helmet in place as Matt pilots the pod towards the work camps. They were just as grim as the first time you’d seen them. It was the same all over in many of the Empire’s work planets. They were at the bottom of the totem pole. There were some planets where the native species and Galra coexisted more or less peacefully, this was not one of them.

“So what’s up with Keith,” Matt asks you.

You shrug. “No clue. I keep waiting for Lotor or one of the Blades to drop in so I can corner them but he’s a picture of perfect health so I’m not worried.”

“But the,” he takes a hand off the wheel, motioning to his face.

You frown, arching a brow. You’d never looked at Allura quite the same after the way she had treated Keith upon learning about his heritage. It’s not like he’d been a completely different person, she’d known him for over a year.

Matt might be Pidge’s brother, but you weren’t about to let anyone get away with giving someone you loved shit. Especially not Keith who would just silently take it.

It made your chest ache, thinking about how sweet he looked when he smiled. He didn’t deserve any of it.

“What about it?” You stare back at him cooly.

Matt focuses back on landing the pod just beyond the sentires line of sight. “Nothing. Pidge figured it was nothing, didn’t even seem curious. I figured you might know, you two are pretty close.” He glances over at you meaningfully.

“We’ve known eachother since the garrison,” though you hadn’t really been friends. Keith had been kind of a loner. You’d tried to include him, having shared a couple classes with him here and there, but he’d never taken you up on any offer.

“Right.” He doesn’t sound all that convinced. “Glad to hear it’s all good. I caught the sneazles while in the work camp,” Matt makes a face.

You laugh.

“It was horrible! But also like an episode of spongebob somehow?”

“Space is weird.” You had way bigger problems and had seen stranger things by now. For fucks sake, you were saving dragon looking aliens from the Galra right now. This planet was like a silent hill game!

Thick fog obscured the rocky landscape. Even from within your suit you could smell the stench of rotten eggs. Yet this was home to the Vexuin.

Shiro gives the signal.

You take the safety off the taser gun Pidge had built for you. Anything pilfered off the Galra was too large for your small stature, just a hair shorter than Keith. The gun packed a punch, with enough voltage to take out the robots.

Matt and you get to work.

“Almost got it,” Matt mutters as you take aim and shoot.

Stupid damn biolocks.

“Hurry the fuck up,” you tell him, dodging a shot from another sentry before frying it with your own weapon. One shot, one sentry. You needed to take them down before they got close. The robots were durable and strong. You knew better than to think you could go hand to hand with one, you were a medic not a fighter.

“I am, I am,” Matt insists. “Ah there,” he grabs a taser flash bomb out of his pocket and tosses inside the sentry outpost.

You shoot again, trying to keep your hands steady. It was easy when it was just programmed machines. Nothing to feel bad about.

Matt and you rush inside, stepping over more fried sentries. You take position at the entrance, gunning down anything that makes its way towards the two of you.

“You in,” you ask him.

“Patience my young apprentice,” Matt says, laughing at his own joke, “it’ll take a moment for my worm to work its way through the software and give me complete control.”

The ground shakes as the main part of the battle takes place outside, at a monsterous factory that’s gray, chimney shooting out smoke. You can only see hints of lions shooting and Galra fighter ships lighting up the sky.

The sulfuric fog coats everything.

You taste rotten eggs on your breath.

Inside your suit, sweat runs down your back.

“Okay,” Matt chimes into the coms, “I’ve hacked the camps. Ready to open the gates.”

The rolling low grutal voices of the Vexuin rebel leaders fill your coms, “Good.”

“Go ahead Matt,” Allura gives the order, “Voltron?”

Pidge answers, “dropping in, should override their” static, “ticks.” Then an explosion reverberates in your ear where the communications device is.

“Pidge,” Keith yells out.

“Keith cover Lance,” Shiro grunts out, blasts audible from here. “Pidge?”

Nothing.

Matt’s face goes ghostly white.

“Pidge, come in Pidge?” Allura asks. “Paladins? Are you able to reach Pidge?”

“Negative,” Shiro replies, “Hunk, take the main gate! Time to land.”

“On it.”

“Guys,” Lance yells, “the shield’s down. Pidge hacked them.”

“Keith,” Shiro yells, “wait!”

“Fine.”

You decide to hope for the best. There was nothing you could do for any of the paladins all the way from here. “Turn it off,” you tell Matt.

He steals himself. “Right.”

The lights of the compound go out. Sentries power down where they stand, puppets with their strings cut. Locks disengage, and for the first time in decades, the Vexuin are free to leave the barracks free from Galra supervision.

You and Matt go out to meet them.

“I could get used to this,”  Pidge calls out as everyone meets on the planet’s surface. Rebels come in from the forest slowly, making sure this is for real, before sniffing the air and calling out to their loved ones lingering around the liberated camp complex.  Their vision worked in the infrared, all the better to see on this planet. You’d need at least three showers to get the smell out of your hair.

Keith carries Pidge, careful not to jolt the youngest member of Voltron. She holds a leg stiffly, a sprain or fracture.

Matt rushes to his sister, “Katie!”

She waves him off, “I’m fine.” Then snaps her fingers, “Down.”

There’s a small smile on Keith’s mouth as he places her down on the ground gently.

Lance comes up behind Keith, ruffling his hair, and being every bit himself as he comments with a smirk, “good boy.”

The shorter paladin smacks Lance’s hand away, but it’s too late, Lance is already smothering Keith in a hug that turns into a competition, like always with those two. Keith shoves at Lance’s face while Lance tightens his grip on Keith.

Shiro clears his throat, “paladins.”

“A dobesh in the pod,” you ask Pidge as Matt gets his turn to fuss over her.

“Yeah. Landed right as an explosion went off,” Pidge frowns. “Not my best moment, but my program still did it’s job and,” she pats her bayard, “I took them out.”

“Can’t be that bad if you can stand,” you agree. Nothing serious but you’d be keeping an eye on her all the same. The faster she got into the pod and took weight off her injury the better. You didn’t want to exacerbate the sprain.

“The jet pack helped,” Pidge points out.

“Lucky you,” you grin.

Shiro and Allura are consummate professionals as they go over the last of the logistics with the Vexuin, “It would be wise to stay until your people have situated themselves in case the Galra Empire retaliates,” Allura states, ending her sentiment in a question, “but it is ultimately up to you.”

The Vexuin chatter among themselves for a moment before one speaks up, “we would not turn down Voltron’s help. A few quintants should be enough time.”

“Then we will make ourselves of service to you,” Shiro nods. “Please, let us know anything we can help with.”

A red scaled one smiles, showing off her many sharp and jagged teeth, “our people long to see the camp destroyed.”

Hunk offers, “I could help rig a controlled explosion.”

“Very good.”

“The system inside the weapons factory is down,” Pidge tells them, “but I can reprogram it to keep the Galra out so that you can decide what to do with the place.”

“Oh no you don’t,” you cut in, “Matt can take care of that. You’re going in a pod first.”

“Pod person,” Matt mutters under his breath with a snort.

“Then let us get to work,” Allura dismisses everyone.

Pidge tries to take a step, and almost falls over.

You grab her.

Her face goes crimson from the pain.

The adrenalin must have been keeping the bulk of the pain away.

Keith picks her up.

It’s not until you’ve loaded Pidge in for three vargas that you pull off your helmet, savoring the crisp clean air of the Castleship.

“I can still smell the sulfur,” you comment, wrinkling your nose.

Keith shakes his hair out.

You look at him thoughtfully, “must be worse for you though.”

“Why,” he asks, genuinely puzzled.

“Because your nose,” you point out, then frown, “your sinuses did clear up yeah?” He never said anything about it so you figured they had and he could smell fine again, but you weren’t sure.

“Oh. Yeah. They did.”

You smile fondly, “very convincing Keith,” you tell him, reaching out to him. He lets you run your fingers right under his ears, behind his jaw. Everything was in order.

A knot of anxiety dissolves in your chest.

“Well,” he asks, “satisfied?”

“Mhm.” You look at the purple markings on his skin.

Keith’s breath hitches. His gaze is trained on you, watching carefully.

“So if not rotten eggs,” you ask, slowly bringing your fingertips over the marks on the sides of his face, giving him every opportunity to pull away, “what do you smell?” You couldn’t help it. It was that scientific curiosity. Everyone at the garrison had ended up there because they were nerdy in some way: devoting themselves to some STEM field while other kids were watching cartoons. You’d had a stutter as a kid, self conscious about it too, so instead of trying to make friends you read your textbooks under your desk, racing ahead.

Keith’s eyes meet yours. There’s a level of vulnerability in his gaze that worms its way into your chest and all of a sudden you’re incredibly aware of how close you two are, the lack of space between your bodies, your fingers caressing his skin.

You look away, focusing on the marks. They were purple, which was obvious. His skin itself had grown purple, perfectly delineated.

“Like wet soil,” Keith explains finally, “when they just added fertilizer.” You wince, remembering the smell of the horticulture center wafting through the garrison’s campus during the spring. “And garlic.”

“I like garlic. I’d kill for some,” you tell him, sounding very much like Hank. You hadn’t expected to be homesick for food. “Best food they served at the cafeteria.”

“That’s not saying much,” Keith mutters, amused.

You chuckle, pulling your hands away from his face.

He leans forward, asking for physical comfort in a very Keith way: unsubtle and wordlessly, putting the onus on you to get the hint.

Pidge must have freaked him out more than he was willing to discuss.

You wrap your arms around his waist, hugging Keith. “Pidge’ll be fine.” Sure, she was younger and short, but she was more than capable of handling herself. “I’m more concerned about how she left the other guys,” you comment lightly resting your chin on Keith’s shoulder.

His shoulders shake as he laughs easily. “They asked to surrender to her personally.”

“That’s Pidge all right.” You glance over at the pod. She’d be back on her feet in no time.

Keith’s breath against your skin feels nice. Your heart flutters in your chest and you find yourself blushing and pulling away, thoughts racing as you realize just how much you liked this boy. You pull away, unsure what to do and suddenly finding it too awkward to be around him at all.

The start of a whine escapes his throat before he smothers it, looking away, as he lets his bangs fall over his eyes, effectively hiding his easy to read features.

“Let’s go help the others,” you say, fumbling to grab a med kit and click your helmet back in place, your face too warm and it must be obvious. You didn’t want to make things weird. You didn’t. But-

“I’m going to stay here until Pidge wakes up,” Keith tells you.

“Oh. Okay.” You nod. “That’s a great idea. It’s always confusing as hell to get out of the pods.” It was akin to waking up from a midday nap: completely confused and exhausted instead of rested.

Your skills would be more useful with the Vexuim than fussing over Pidge at the moment. And having something to do would keep your mind off Keith.

—————

“You know,” Lance comments, sliding up to you as you watch Lotor strut away from you after another failed attempt to talk to him. “If we bottled up whatever galra repellant you have going on, we could defeat Zarkon with perfume.”

You look over at Lance, trying to suppress a smile. “What would you call it?”

“Starlight.”

“That’s-that’s actually pretty great,” you tell Lance.

“I know,” he grins. Then the latino boy sobers up, “trying to find out what’s going on with mullet?”

You nod. “I even tried to corner Acxa,” you admit. For an eight foot tall purple alien, boy could she make herself scarce.

Lance’s eyes widened in delight, “like could and should peg me Acxa?”

You groan. “Lance, sometimes it’s okay to keep things to yourself.”

“I’m just saying,” he laughs, “the ship’s not that big…”

“It’s designed for six thousand people.” You’d learned that fun tidbit while practicing your Altean with Pidge.

“Like for real!”

“Yeah.”

“Ay dios mio,” Lance utters, “you’re screwed.”

You finally hit the motherlode.

Lotor and his generals are in a stately room that reminds you of the socratic lecture halls at the garrison, sofa arranged in a half circle, with Shiro and Allura. The former Prince had shown up for a reason beyond making a nuisance of himself. Allura looks at her wits end with him, as he smiles like a douche, her eye twitching.

She invites you in without hesitation, “take a seat next to me,” and effectively uses you as a human shield against Lotor.

Literally since you and Shiro were the only humans here.

“Everything has been thoroughly discussed,” Lotor comments dryly, snubbing you once more. Normally, you wouldn’t have cared but you were trying to get information out of the man. “Unless either of you have further questions?”

Shiro hums, rubbing his chin, “I know saddling you with a rebel ship or two will slow you down but I don’t see another way around it. A display of size on their part will go a long way to show it is an alliance and not the Galra Empire hy another name.”

Allura nods, a small smile on her lips as she looks over at Shiro, “The black paladin is right. It will be a steep hill to climb to show that you are not the Galra Empire. Their fears would be alleviated with the presence of the rebel alliance.”

Zethrid sucks in a sharp breath, “So that’s it then. We will always be scorned and merely tolerated.”

“Time,” Shiro sighs with a look of gentle understanding at the muscular woman, “they need time. You can’t erase 10,000 years of history. It is hard to extend trust after being imprisoned and enslaved.”

“The alliance has started coordinating with you and the Blade directly have they not,” Allura asks stiltedly. It was by the necessity of time that they had stopped going through Voltron first. Lotor might be too smug for his own good, but his team was effective at sabotaging warships and infiltrating Galra ranks to liberate prisons and cities, enough to turn the tide for the rebels.

Her feelings towards Lotor and the Blade were still tinged with suspicion, her treatment of them lukewarm at best.

Still, Lotor brushed it off and continued to help. “Well then, Princess, Shiro, we have a long journey ahead of us.”

Shiro nods.

They shake hands.

You stand up, ready to corner Lotor.

“But first a word Shiro, it is a private matter.”

“Yeah, sure,” Shiro leads Lotor away.

Your eye twitches.

That snake!

Zethrid and Narti walk purposefully away as Allura pushes in her chair, ignoring the last two of Lotor’s team. “Princess,” Acxa, tries. “Until next time.” She nods at you, “stay safe.”

Allura gives the woman a strained smile, hooking her arm with yours. Human shield.

“You too,” you tell her. She doesn’t wait, already halfway out the door. You sigh.

Ezor giggles, by far the friendliest and easiest to get along with of Lotor’s team. “Stashing food and water will cut down the embarrassment by half.”

“What?”

“Oh,” she shrugs, “I guess Lotor was right. Darn it! Now I owe him one hundred GAC.”

“Wait-”

But she scurries off.

“Ugh,” you kick the wall, tired of everyone being weird. The usual frustration with being caught up in a space war was just the salt on the wound.

Your toe throbs, “fuck,” you hiss.

“They are rather tiring to deal with,” Allura agrees, reading the situation wrong, “but it hardly calls for assaulting the Castle.”

“Sorry,” you flush red with embarrassment. “I just had a question for Lotor and he seems intent on never being in the same room as me.”

“Ah-,” Allura smiles easily, “Lance did mention that you were in possession of a Galra repellent.” The twinkle in her eyes lets you know she was in on the joke.

“Come, let us work our frustrations out with some introspection.” Which was just Altean for weird breathing exercises that supposedly helped you do alchemy. She had managed to rope you into practicing with her before.

“Anything to spare the wall,” you joke.

——————

You walk back from the library. It was a cozy room, especially when you dimmed the lights. The Castle was always so bright, designed with the Alteans sight needs in mind.

Sometimes you just needed some time away from everyone. You loved them, but spending years with the same people while floating through space…you had no clue how Shiro had managed it.

Getting a walk around the ship was also nice. It was easy to forget how big the Castle was when you mainly stayed on the same three floors. Just a couple months ago Coran had rediscovered the greenhouse. The plants were a little piece of Altea, and had quickly become one of Allura’s favorite spots.

The windows were wide portholes. It unnerved you still, looking out and not recognizing any star, any constellations.

A lump of homesickness lodges itself in your throat. It had been over two years, your siblings would have grown so much in that time. You certainly had. The last vestiges of childhood had gone from your face.

Acne cleared up even without Lance’s ten step routine.

You walk across the bridge, trying not to look down. The viewing platform was clear glass in space, you could lay on it. It freaked you out a little.

It was the only constantly dark place in the castle.

You still yelp when you spot Keith, his eyes luminous violet like a glow in the dark t-shirt. That should have tipped all of you off, but alien was not the first thing that came to mind when you previously believed aliens had never visited earth.

He whimpers, curling up further.

“Keith,” you gulp, focusing on him and not the glass separating you from the void of space. “What’s wrong?”

He looks up at you miserably, blinking sluggishly. “I have the worst migraine.”

“And you’re down here instead of getting painkillers?”

Keith shrugs. “It’s not as bad, quiet. Dark.”

You sit down next to him. “I can go get you something,” you offer, your cheeks warming up and it was ridiculous how you can’t even manage to act normal around him anymore.

“Coran already gave me a dose.”

“Oh.” You were hurt. You were supposed to be the medic. That was your role on Team Voltron.

You hug your knees to your chest, and look down at space. It was darker than the photographs back on earth. Not so purple and blue.

You weren’t Matt who was just as good as Pidge with technology or Allura who was the leader and a princess to boot, you’d just planned on having a late dinner with Hunk once he got over the motion sickness before Lance roped you into following Pidge. You weren’t a paladin.

Keith shuts his eyes. “You were with Allura. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“It’s no bother.” You swallow thickly, letting silence fall over you both.

You listen to Keith breathing, looking around the darkness of space for any familiar stars. You knew the space around Shay’s Balmerra, and Arus was at least a little familiar. But the universe was so vast and wide.

There were planets you’d only ever been to once, each with a different night sky. Some of them never even had a night, with multiple suns staving off a night cycle.

“Do you think Allura minds?”

“Mind what,” you ask.

Keith clenches his jaw, rubbing his temples. “That I look more Galra.”

Allura has always been harder on the Galra. For her, it had been such a short time since Zarkon had destroyed her world and her people. You didn’t agree, but you could understand where she was coming from, the pain still there as she continuously wore Altean mourning pink.

You look over at him, the outline of his body against the glass. “I think your marks look cool.”

“Bullshit.”

“I do,” you whisper gently, considerate of his migraine. Those were the worst. “They frame your face. You look nice,” you finish lamely, looking away. You look nice. Lance might say stupid things but at least he tried.

“What if I looked even more Galra?”

“Like completely purple and tall?” You couldn’t really wrap your head around it. It also seemed incredibly unlikely. Could his phenotype change so drastically? On earth the answer was no, but who knows how the Galra work. It was fascinating to see such a wide range of traits in one species.

He was also half human.

You worried if his body would even tolerate such a drastic change.

“Yes,” he says, not waiting for you as he rants in agitation, “the rebels hate the Blade and Allura doesn’t trust them at all and that’s not even mentioning Lotor.”

“That’s not true. Te-Osh likes Acza and Ezor. Lotor’s kind of annoying if we’re being honest, and I’m sure his being Zarkon’s son makes it a little hard to believe he’s on our side,” you try to reason. “And don’t write off the Galra who have changed sides or were in the camps right alongside other aliens.”

Keith says nothing in response, mouth a thin line as he thinks.

You wonder how long it’s been bugging him.

You want to reach out and hug him, but he isn’t Hunk. You’re not sure he’d want to if he’s not initiating the contact. So you don’t.

“Everyone knows how the last Galra paladin worked out.” A low growl in the back of his throat is enough to clue you in to how distressing this was for him.

Your heart hurts. “And everyone knows you’re not Zarkon,” you state evenly back. “We already know you’re Galra.”

Keith snorts humorlessly. You can’t see his eyes; they’re hidden by his bangs.

“The glowing eyes are not exactly subtle dude,” you point out, “not to mention your hair does the poof thing guinea pigs do when they’re eating, but not when you’re eating, more like when you get annoyed.”

“I-what!” His eyes go comically wide as he sits up. His dark hair does the thing, making him look like a character from those old Japanese kids movies.

You giggle, “you’re doing it.”

Keith tries to look at his reflection in the glass.

You blush, grateful that it’s too dark to see, and then realize that wasn’t true for him, so you look away, hoping he didn’t notice. “Yeah. I’m the medic, it’s my job to know these things. Like how Pidge has two webbed digits on her foot and Lance is allergic to flax seeds and bees.”

“That…makes sense.” Then he smiles, “still didn’t put two and two together.”

“Don’t be a smartass.” Reason number three thousand Iverson had it out for him back at the harrison. “And if anyone has a problem with you I’ll kick their ass.”

“You?” Keith snorts. “You wouldn’t even flip me during self defense.”

“You remember that?” You run a hand over your face, “I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” you always took forever to practice on your partner. And your weak arms didn’t help.

“That’s what the mats were for.”

“Still!”

Keith laughs at your expense.

You smile, taking delight in watching him smile and laugh and you wish it could always be like this and the war would just end.

Then you sober up. “You’re going to be okay, right?”

He doesn’t answer you right away.

“Keith-” you reach out, voice cracking. “You’re going to be okay, giant purple space cat or not, right?”

He takes your hand, squeezing it firmly. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

“Good,” you utter, but tears bead up in your eyes anyway. It was terrifying watching someone go through something unknown that you couldn’t help them through for all your medical training. You knew how to set bones and run a pod…not whatever this was.

You trusted Keith.

He knew himself better than anyone. After all, he’d been right about his teeth growing back.

“You really are worried,” he whispers in disbelief.

“Duh.”

“I can smell it on you,” then he seems to realize what he said, and pulls away, ducking his head. Like he hadn’t meant to say so much.

“Really?” Learning about anything alien biology was pretty cool, you had to admit. Allura had once described colours that you couldn’t perceive. It was a fun talk. And then she’d made you meditate for alchemy stuff or so she claimed. It might have just been payback. “Is that new?”

“Yeah,” Keith admits, still drawn into himself. “Can we not-I already feel like enough of a freak already without,” he waves aggressively at himself.

You bite your lip, nodding. You wanted to say something, to get it through his head how you saw him, incredibly kind and fiercely loyal (to the point of taking on Zarkon by himself) and an endearing smile you never got tired of seeing.

You liked him.

The universe was lucky to have him as a paladin.

But you don’t know how to say it in a way he’d accept. And he asked you to drop it, so you do. “Right, I’ll just go then.” He’d been here first, and the glass made you nervous.

Could it withstand a hit from a galra battleship?

Keith opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but he just nods, then winces, “Argh,” he groans as he curls up on his side, covering his ears with his hands.

You rush to his side, kneeling next to him, “Keith,” you utter softly, not wanting to make it worse.

His eyes are pressed close and for all your medical know-how, you’re at a loss.

So you running your fingers through his hair soothingly and wait for the pain to pass.

He shifts, laying his head in your lap as he whimpers.

You can’t stand to watch him and do nothing. You press your com, pinging Shiro and Coran. This was beyond you. He’d trust Shiro with whatever was going on and he’d gone to Coran. You respected that even if it did sting.

Your pride meant little so long as Keith felt comfortable and sought help.

“Shh, shh,” you whisper gently.

Sweat beads on his brow.

Whines escape his throat.

“Fuck,” he grunts, clenching his teeth.

He’s warm to your touch and that rouses another bout of worries. At this temperature it’s a fever, but he didn’t have the symptoms, the flushed cheeks and chills.

Keith curls up further, muscles stiff.

You’re helpless.

After what feels like ages, Shiro and Coran finally appear.

“Number four, Number five,” Coran claps his hands.

You hold out your hand, motioning them to shut the fuck up as Keith winces at the sound.

His hair is damp near his ears.

“Keith,” Shiro utters much more gently, kneeling down on his other side, “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

He raises his head, blinking groggily at Shiro, trying to concentrate through the pain, “Shiro,” he reaches for his brother who easily pulls him against his chest. Keith buries his head in the crook of Shiro’s neck.

You sit back, trying to get out of the way. Your hands are wet.

You look down and realize it’s blood. His ears-

Oh god.

“Number five,” Coran says gently, helping you up, “I’ll take great care of our Paladin. Why don’t you go get cleaned up.”

You don’t get any sleep that night.

——————

You were always struck with cognitive dissonance walking around colonized planets like Rahiri where the natives and Galra lived side by side. This was not a planet ravaged by the empire. The flora-like aliens in all shades of green with rootish limbs and leaves and petals for hair had assimilated into the Empire, achieving citizenship over generations. 10,000 years deca-phoebs was a long time. That was a huge source of tension in the Alliance, what to do with the world who neither wanted or wished to leave the Empire.

It was also a source of dark humor that no one spared the four of you a second glance despite two paladins of Voltron walking around.

Hunk holds Shay’s hand in front of you as they point and awe and drag their feet on the way to the space port.

“You could always stay with,” Hunk says hopefully, “we could just drop you off. Personal taxi service.”

Shay smiles back kindly, “that would be wonderful but I have been away from home for too long. I am, as you say, a homebody.”

“Aw, yeah,” Hunk chuckles, “I feel that. I like the ground. And dirt. Piloting is overrated.”

“Don’t let yellow here you say that,” Keith comments so dry, you think he’s serious for a second. Allura and Pidge had gone shopping for supplies. That was an advantage of a planet that had not seen war.

Hunk glances back, clearly having forgotten we had tagged along in case anything went down. “Yeah well, she’d like a small moon. Or an asteroid. There’s colonies on those.”

“Very true,” Shay laughs. “I think my balmerra is also like a moon. A beautiful creature. We have learned how to ask for crystals so we do not need to cut them.”

“That’s impressive. Did the books from Allura help,” Hunk asks.

As much as you liked getting to stretch your legs, seeing a different planet where the threat was not imminent, you didn’t like being a third wheel, or fourth wheel if you went according to Coran’s favorite numbering pattern. That inch difference between you and Keith mocked you.

You glance over at the red paladin.

His gaze kept flickering back and forth, around the street. The occasional loud noise of crates being unloaded made him jump.

“You good,” you ask Keith, cracking a joke so he’d know you weren’t judging him. “You see la llorona or Davy Jones?”

“Hm?”

“You know…a famous ghost? Do they have ghosts in space?”

Keith snorts, cottoning on. “They don’t even have ghosts on earth.”

You pull a face, “well that’s no fun. Seriously, you okay? Or have we been made?”

He shakes his head, glancing around again just to be sure. “So much for Zarkon’s finest.”

You laugh, following Hank and Shay into the space port. Shuttles were departing pretty consistently. Everything was in orderly fashion. You especially liked how no one was shooting at you.

“It takes some getting used to.”

“What does?” You watch as Keith shakes his head, making his hair fall back from his face.

Shay and Hunk go to the ticket counter, but you decide to find somewhere off to the side, wanting to give them privacy.

“Stuff.”

You roll your eyes at Keith, “you suck.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall, looking anywhere but at you. “Lotor explained it to me and Shiro…what’s happening.”

“Oh.” You swallow, looking at Hunk and Shay hugging and saying their goodbyes yet again. They’d said them last night at dinner, this morning in the pod, and again when you’d split from Allura and Pidge. It was cute. They were adorable.

“Sorry.”

“Hm,” you glance over at Keith, not sure why he would be sorry about anything. He was the one getting screwed over by half of his heritage.

“You’re hurt.”

“You can smell that too,” you ask him, holding his deep gaze. There was an intense commitment to everything Keith did; it was reflected in the depth of his violet gaze. He didn’t do things in halves.

“Now I can.” He looks at his shoes, red dusting his cheeks. The red didn’t tinge the purple marks on his skin.

“So this is all,” you’re not sure how to put it, “nothing to worry about?”

“He said it was normal. But because I’m half there’s no way to know what to expect.” He looks away as he says it, stiff as he glances around.

The anxiety that had settled into your jaw since you’d had to wash his blood off your hands eases up. “Giant purple space cat,” you joke, nudging his side.

“Oh fuck no,” Keith grumbles. Even that furrowed expression that crossed his chiselled features made you feel all giddy inside.

Bad timing.

“I’m not hurt I-I just wish you trusted me,” you finally admit. It was silly. You felt selfish, so you tack on, “You know I’m here for you if you need me. We all are. I know Shiro’s your brother, but we’re your friends.”

“I know,” he sighs wistfully, “I do trust you…it’s just-it’s been hard. I don’t know how to feel about any of it and I’m not used to it either.”

“It’s fine,” you tell him, “I’m being silly, making this about me. As long as you know I’m here for you…I’m not trying to force you to tell me anything…” you cringe internally at yourself. The galaxy garrison had been made up of nerds, so it followed everyone was a character. It hadn’t helped anyone’s social skills.

You wish you could just go, I worry about you because I love you instead of stumbling through word vomit.

“Come on,” Keith brings you out of your thoughts, grabbing your hand and pushing through the crowd of people coming and going to different boarding gates, “I think Hunk’s going to need some comfort food.”

You glance around, finding Hunk’s form making it’s way to you both. He was wiping his eyes, bittersweet smile, making no move to really hide that he was crying.

“Let’s get back to Allura yeah,” he tells you both.

“Or,” you go with Keith’s idea, “we can get something to eat. Allura gave us a good hour or so.”

“Varga,” Keith supplies.

“Yeah, that.”

Hunk nods, “that sounds nice. It’s just,” he looks back at the departing shuttle, “it’s hard. It’s war and you never know when your going to see each other again but it’s not like she can just drop everything and I wouldn’t ask her too, if anything I’d like to retire there. Nice and quiet. Maybe open a restaurant…”

“Vrepit Sal two,” Keith offers.

“Could make it a chain,” you add with a smile. Hunk, like you, was not such a gung ho pilot. You had landed the flight simulation without crashing exactly once, for your final emergency protocol exam.

“Thanks guys,” Hunk grins, “but I think I’ll bring some earth out here. Give these people a taste of traditional earthlign cuisine.”

“So your menu’s going to be as long as Cheesecake Factory’s,” you ask with a silly grin.

“Maybe not that long. A burger, ramen, scratch that, pizza instead of a burger.” Hunk rubs his chin thoughtfully sniffing the air and following his nose to a food stand. You trusted him for food. He had a knack for combining goo and exotically colored food that screamed fake and poisonous into pretty great meals.

Keith was still holding your hand, not as a loose afterthought: every now and then he’d rub his thumb against the back of your hand and it sent a thrill down your spine.

You don’t pull away, wanting to savor the feel of his skin against yours even if it wasn’t that deep. You’d hugged and napped with everyone at least once, grabbing each other’s hands in the confusing crowded hovels of swamp malls (actual swamp malls and not places Coran thought of as a swamp mall).

You nab a table outside the stand.

Everything was in Galra which none of you could read. “Damn,” you mutter looking over.

Hunk glances at Keith without subtlety.

You were starting to think only Allura and Shiro could do subtly.

Keith raises a brow.

“Nothing,” Hunk looks down at his screen.

“Point and hope for the best it is,” you shrug.

“I love a good surprise,” Hunk nods, then looks down at his hands, “we’ll see each other again right? Shay…they’re pretty safe. And well…yellow’s got thick armour.” He sighs, resting his cheek against his fist, elbows on the table.

“Shay’s a badass,” you confort Hunk, “she figured out how to communicate with the Balmera and through the Balmera. She’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty freaking amazing,” Hunk blushes.

You order from an alien that somewhat resembles Ezor, all cotton candy color, and twiddle your thumbs, enjoying the rare moment of rest and relaxation.

“I could get used to this,” Hunk comments, savoring the strange dish he’d been served.

“Get a travel food show,” you tease, “I’d watch it.”

“It could be like this all the time,” Keith muses hopefully, “aren’t planets like this proof we could all get along.” He bites into the glowing blue lotus root shaped meal, and blinks widely.

“What,” you ask, looking over at him.

Keith grabs a napkin and spits out his food. “I think I just lost another tooth.”

“You think,” Hunk raises a brow, “how could you not notice a missing tooth?”

“Smile,” you nudge Keith sitting next to you.

He rolls his eyes, before fake smiling which was always so undeniably forced when he did it. You laugh, nodding, “yup, missing tooth.”

Keith frowns for a second, before continuing to eat.

“Oh,” Hunk utters, before he kicks your leg lightly.

You look up, meeting the yellow paladin’s searching gaze.

He looks at you with a knowing smile.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, the tip of your nose burning hotly, you look down, shoving a questionable sticky black slice into your mouth. It was easy to chew despite the sticky-ness, the flavor starchy and nutty.

There was no way this wouldn’t get back to everyone else in the Castle. No way.

They were all so nosy.

Oh fuck.

——————

“It sure is hot in here,” Lance says with a challenging smirk at Keith.

You roll your eyes.

Lance stretches, resting his arms against the back of the sofa, his hand tapping annoyingly against your shoulder.

Keith is unmoved. Or more accurately, Keith’s mouth twists as he tries hard to ignore Lance’s latest attempts to get him to remove his hat, a lime green thing that clashed perfectly as was his fashion sense, or lack of any fashion sense.

Pidge smacks her head, then peaks curiously at Keith: at Keith’s hat.

You flick Lance’s cheek. “Hey hot shot, don’t hug me when you’ve set the thermostat to ninety degrees.”

“Ninety five actually,” he winks, hugging you towards him. Ugh, you couldn’t do it. You’d already done away with your afghan coat, tied your lavender flannel around your waist, what more could you do. You didn’t have shorts in space. The skirts stored in the castle were breezy, but made you feel at risk of tripping over the hem with each step.

“Hm,” Keith voices, taking a seat, “reminds me of home.”

Hunk snorts, “really thought that through,” he tells Lance.

Lance is undeterred. “Could go higher.”

“I don’t think your cow would like that very much,” you point out.

The blue paladin sulks, looking down at you, “you’re just saying that because you like-”

You jab your elbow into his side.

“Ow! What ever happened to do no harm?”

“Technically,” you tell Lance, “I never graduated.”

“She’s got you there,” Pidge smirks from beside Keith. She was taking apart yet another radio. The signal had yet to reach earth.

“Thank you Pidge.”

She shrugs, “It’s true.” Then turns on Keith, “The hat, explain.”

He looks like he wishes he could merge with the sofa at that, slumping in his seat.

You decide to step in, “I’m going to turn the thermo down.”

Lance is quick to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you back onto the sofa, “come on, relax. Like mullet said, it’s homey.”

You throw him a dirty look.

“Keith?” Pidge side-eyes her fellow paladin. He’s sat up, gripping the sofa cushion so tightly he’s ripping hole into the ten thousand year upholstery.

“You okay there buddy,” Hunk asks.

“No.”

“Oh.”

Keith sucks in a breath, and with deliberate motion, pulls the hat from his head.

Oh.

Your eyes widen.

OH.

His ears had changed.

They weren’t nearly as alien as Allura’s, but no one would mistake their shape for human. Keith’s ears tapered up and out, portrudding, but it was more than just a pointed tip, the entire shape of his ears had transformed, resembling a butterfly’s wing. It was still human in color, but…

Hunk breaks the stunned silence first, “so are you going to like to end up purple?”

Keith ducks his head, wrapping his arms around himself.

No one else gets the chance to further interrogate Keith, or hear his own thoughts, because Allura calls everyone up to the bridge.

Lotor hailed the Castle of Lions. Everyone stands around the bridge while Shiro and Allura take the lead as usual. They might as well be twins given how well they got on, communicating differing ideas without undermining the other.

“There are nine warships in the system,” Lotor acknowledges, “I would be much indebted if you would do me the favor of sending Voltron for the aerial battle.”

“The Empire’s presence is still in its early stages,” Acza explains, “but their terraforming development for the planet will cause the destruction of the Talpidae living there.”

“Then we have no choice,” Allura clenches her fist, never one to sit back while there was something she could do about it, “we will provide air support. Sent me the coordinates so that I may Teleduv there.”

Lance is still obviously eyeing Keith’s latest development. It was readily visible, and you were fighting the urge to do the same.

But you weren’t also trying to flick his ears.

Keith growls lowly.

Lance sniggers.

Pidge offers Lance a piece of paper to make paper balls with.

Hunk sighs long sufferingly, having resigned himself to the more childish side of his two friends. They were terrors. Put Pidge and Lance together, and they were gremlins out of a horror movie made for elementary school teachers.

You slip your hand into Keith’s, squeezing reassuringly. It would take some getting used to like anytime someone got a new haircut, but you would. Like his atrocious boots, they’d become an endearing part of him.

Keith squeezes your hand back.

Shiro nods, agreeing with Allura, “have the Talpidae been contacted.”

“Very much so,” Ezor chimes in, “they’re funny little people. And their sensory-”

“The point Ezor,” Lotor sighs, rubbing his nose bridge.

“They sent for help to the rebels. We were closest to their system,” Exor elaborates with a shrug, “they do not have the background to fight head on, and will evacuate most of their people into bunkers, but they have been digging under the new construction and weakening the structural integrity of the Galra outposts.”

“Very well,” Shiro accepts, “Princess Allura and our chief medic will meet with the Talpidae as a show of goodwill.”

“Our only medic,” Hunk points out.

Keith growls, his hand squeezing yours hard.

You all look over at him.

“Red Paladin,” Allura says, trying to look as professional as possible in front of her least favorite of Voltron’s allies, “is something the matter.” She shares a look with Shiro, but otherwise looks unsurprised at Keith’s less than human ears.

Or maybe she’d make a great poker played.

“Can’t you meet with the Talpidae after the battle,” Keith utters harshly.

“They may need immediate tactical support,” Allura reasons, “we should be there in person to provide it.”

“It’ll be fine Keith,” Shiro adds.

Their words do little to calm Keith down. His dark silky hair puffs up. His grip on your hand tightens and you feel miffed. You’d been on the ground working triage before. You might not be a fighter or pilot but you could look after yourself.

You pull your hand out of his. “I really don’t see what the problem is,” you tell Keith pointedly.

“I’ll watch Allura’s back and she’ll have mine.”

Allura nods. “Our chief medic is correct-”

His ears twitch, “You’re not exactly a fighter.”

Shiro covers his face with a hand.

Your brows furrow. You’re livid. “So! I won’t be fighting. We’ll be in the bunkers with the Talpidae. It’ll be safe so it doesn’t even matter.”

“If it’s perfectly safe then you don’t need to be there,” Keith’s voice breaks, a whine escaping his chest but you don’t care, done with the conversation.

“Yikes,” is Ezor’s quiet whisper.

You’re not a paladin so you don’t care, you just stalk off the bridge ready to go scream into your pillow in frustration. Or better yet, go for a swim and scream underwater.

“Wait-” Keith follows you.

You ignore him.

“I just-,” he keeps trying as you stalk down the stairs, deciding your room was better after all if only because you could lock Keith out.

“Listen-,” he whines.

“I didn’t mean-”

“You didn’t mean what,” you round on him, hands on your hips, pissed off and maybe some of its was from being stuck on this stupid ship all the damn time but like eighty percent was earned. You might not be taking on a squad of Galra soldiers, but you could take one on if it came to it.

Keith at least has the decency to look miserable, sad chirrups in his throat as he crosses his arms over his chest and looks at the ground.

“Well?” You tap your foot on the ground.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he finally manages. “Especially if you don’t need to be there.”

“But I do,” you counter, “There’ll be people running into those bunkers having escaped soldiers and sentries and the faster they get treated the better chance they have.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Keith repeats himself. “You-you can hold your own.” He looks up at you through his bangs, still hunched in on himself.

“Obviously.” There’s no heat, the anger having deflated already. It was just white hot ache in your chest, hurt at the idea that Keith thought you would get in the way, that you had nothing of value to add to the Alliance and Voltron.

You bite your lip.

Don’t cry, you think to yourself.

You were being dumb.

He was just being plain stupid.

“I mean it,” Keith repeats, “I’m sorry. I was just looking for an excuse to make sure you were safe.”

“Right, because Allura can handle herself but I can’t.” Your voice cracks.

“No,” Keith says in a rush, “it’s not the same.”

“Because I can’t fight?”

“That’s not,” Keith runs a hand through his hair, “It’s me okay. I’m-I’ve always jumped into things without thinking, but I decided to go for it, like breaking Shiro out but now I’m doing things before I even notice and it’s all these stupid Galra instincts!”

You swallow.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you once more. “I didn’t mean to and I’m sorry. No one thinks you can’t handle yourself. That’s why Shiro paired you up with Allura, because he knows you’re capable of watching her back.”

Your smile is fragile as you look over at him, “yeah?”

“Yeah.” Keith holds your gaze, looking as skittish as a stray dog. Another whine escapes his throat.

What the heck.

You hug him, “you’re such a dumbass.” You understood why he’d worry. This was war. Pidge was on a two man campaign with Shiro to get Matt to stay on the Castle, both scared witless that Matt might die on a mission with the rebels. Ulaz had died so everyone could get away.

You’d had patients in the last decaphoebs you could do nothing but ease their pain. You’d had patients that you couldn’t even administer anything for the pain because of how torn apart they were: guts spilling out, charred people shapes that you were surprised to still find breathing.

The images would never leave you as long as you lived.

“I’m sorry.” Keith buries his head in the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin sent shivers down your spine.

You hug him tightly, aware that every battle could be your last: the last time you saw him. “You’ve said that already,” you tease, memorizing the smell of him, stale sweat and something cloying that you had wanted to bottle up from the moment you’d met him and had never found on anyone else. As embarrassing as it was to admit to anyone other than yourself, Keith smelled good. Really good.

Most people smelled like nothing at all.

He stiffens.

“But it’s nice to hear again.”

Keith smothers a laugh.

You kiss his hair. Boys were so dumb.

He purrs.

You smile goofily, warmth building under your skin, and toes curling up in your shoes. You should say something. Right?

At some point?

Or maybe it shouldn’t be said under the looming threat of an upcoming battle.

Fuck.

You can’t decide, so you say nothing at all.

——————

Bombs still pelt the surface.

Your teeth chatter as the ground shakes even deep underground. Even more soil falls onto you. Your spacesuit was more oche than white at this point as you carry an injured Talpidae in your arms. It’s arm had been completely blown off. Sluggish blue blood oozed out.

Allura was last, tailing the group.

You reach the bunker.

The sentries had followed some of the feeling Talpidae into the tunnels, but they’d been sorted out.

The people here were strange, russet in fur colouring, with no discernable eye, just strange pink flagella protruding from their nose and large claws for digging. They stood at about Pidge’s height.

The bunker seals and you get to work.

Tourniquet here, pain patch there. There were so many of them banged up.

The fight continued on the surface.

The paladins had to form Voltron.

You and Allura work as a team, she takes the bruises and broken bones with no immediate risk of death. You triage the worst of the Talpidae, giving away your precious stash of painkillers to those you can’t save and are not in for a quick death, a Talpidae lies twitching, it’s nose blown off but alive. Another holds it’s hand, but shakes their head when they look at you. They weren’t going to make it.

Training kicks in and you focus on saving those you can.

Your hands stain blue from the blood.

Allura works alongside you.

You cauterize a Talpidae named Soedob’s hand, the claws on their right limb were gone, but most of it was spared.

“You smell Galra,” Soedob utters, blinking out of the pain induced haze as the painkiller kicked in.

You half hear, half don’t, so focused on the task at hand. It was easier to not stop until you were finished and could curl up and sleep and not think about blood and war and Zarkon.

“We have Galra allies,” Allura answers diplomatically, leaving the issue of the half Galra paladin alone.

It irked you.

“No, not them,” Soedob notes. “Those had a different aura.”

“Smell,” you guess, finishing off. You hoped the fighting ended soon. You supply was not unlimited. The castle had better facilities.

“Is that what you call it?”

“Our primary sense is sight,” Allura explains, giving you a long look.

You shrug. You hadn’t even seen any of Lotor and his team. There hadn’t been time. It had all been relayed over coms, over video.

“Another then?”

You swallow thickly, flushing with embarrassment because you both spent time around Keith but Soedob was only smelling him on you and it’s not like you had been doing anything intimate…well, it had felt intimate, hugging Keith, but it wasn’t anything like when cadets snuck into each others dorm room, shoving a sock on the door handle in the universal symbol of don’t bother us. “The red paladin is part Galra.” Mercifully, your voice doesn’t shake from the embarrassment, but you can’t look at Allura.

“Ah,” Soedob nods, neither outraged nor pleased.

Then there’s no more time, you have more Talpidaes waiting for medical aid. You give their own healers some of your supplies, freeing up Allura to find the clan leaders.

You can feel Allura’s questioning glance on you.

——————

“Team meeting in the mess hall,” Shiro calls over the coms system.

“Mess hall,” Pidge rolls her eyes, “it’s the dining room.”

You snort.

“I like to think of it as the dining room too,” Hunk offers. “I mean there’s only eight of us. It’s sort of like being home again.”

“Mess hall makes me think of the garrison,” you admit, falling into step besides them. “and the food.”

“Ugh,” Pidge groans. “That was the worst. Matt wasn’t kidding.”

“It does make the space packs easier to digest,” you muse, “maybe that was the point.” It took the garrison two years to get to Mars. It was funny, once you’d thought that was a long way from home.

“I liked the cheese garlic bread,” Hunk allows.

“Food goo,” Pidge grins, “or the garrison space food?”

“Food goo.” Hunk doesn’t even have to think.

“Food goo,” you agree. “Though not Coran’s paladin special.”

“You don’t even eat that,” Hunk huffs, half outraged half amused, “you’re always like well I’m not a paladin so…”

You laugh. “Seeing it is more than enough.”

The rest of the ship’s inhabitants are already there waiting for you. Lance is trying to teach Coran how to play slide, moving very slow as he claps their hands together.

Shiro and Allura are in easy conversation. Her mice scamper around her feet.

Keith looks absolutely miserable next to Shiro, folding himself into the smallest possible size, trying to disappear. It was hard to reconcile the Keith that was quiet with the Red Paladin that shot first and asked questions later.

You smile at him, excited to see him, but also figuring he could use some reassurance, whatever it was going through his head. Keith meets your gaze and the corners of his mouth turn up, before he ducks away.

You know better than to take it personally.

It was Keith.

Your toes curl inside your shoes and you bite back your smile, suddenly aware of how much you might be revealing and not wanting Lance of all people to start a meeting by commenting on it. For him, it might be all fun and games, but you weren’t sure what to do with these newfound warm and fuzzy feelings. You sure as fuck didn’t want to be called out on it.

You weren’t sure what to do about liking Keith so your current plan of action was: nothing.

“Thank you everyone for being here,” Shiro claps his hands together, his leader impression defaulted at awkward dad. He thought he always had to be on. Despite being the most trained out of us, he’d only just started his career during the Kerberos mission.

You wonder if he’d picked up his leadership style partly from Pidge’s dad.

“Where else would we be,” Pidge shrugs, never one to miss a shot.

“All the same,” the older man smiles.

“Yeah, no problem my dude, bro,” Lance flashes finger guns at Shiro.

You snort, taking a seat between him and Hunk.

“But seriously, what’s up,” Lance leans forward. “Or is this some lowkey way to keep us on our toes,” he winks at Allura who smiles indulgently.

“I await the news alongside you paladins,” Allura answers, hands resting in her lap. She looks over at Shiro.

The whole room turns to look at Shiro.

He had called the meeting.

Meetings tended to be informational in nature: updates about the expansive war, rebels hailing Voltron for intervention, the Blade passing on the rare bit of information, and the always popular distress signals. But Shiro and Allura both looked too calm for that.

Keith goes rigid, a spring wound up too tight.

Hm.

You wondered if the elephant in the room would finally be addressed.

Shiro puts his hand on Keith’s shoulder, smiling encouragingly the way a parent dropping their child off for their first day of school would, “go ahead Keith.”

The red paladin focuses his gaze on Shiro, his expression more sour than it’s been in a long time.

The past few years had done a lot to get him to open up to everyone on board, but right now, he looks exactly like the stubborn closed off cadet he had been back on Earth.

His ears twitch slightly. He manages to look even more taunt, and you wonder if he’s going to wave this off. Then, he lets out a breath.

His body is stiff, but Keith no longer pulls away from Shiro. He looks down at his hands pensively, nails cut to the quick. “Right.”

You can feel the nervous energy of the rest of the room, leaning in, waiting to see what Keith wants to say.

“Mhm, go on,” Lance says, chin in hand.

Hunk elbows him in the side.

“Hey!” Lance is about to start in on Hunk.

“Guys,” you snap, shoving Lance’s shoulder.

“Okay, okay,” Lance zips his mouth and throws away the key, “shutting up.”

“Looks like that didn’t work,” Pidge snarks.

“Paladins,” Allura’s clear commanding voice rings out. When everyone shuts up again, she nods at Keith, “you may continue.”

He looks up at everyone through his bangs, “I’m going through Galra settling.”

Hunk looks over at Allura, who was far more familiar with all this alien mumble jumble than anyone else.

Shiro squeezes Keith’s shoulder.

“And that is,” you prompt gently, before Keith hastily decided that was all he needed to say and left.

He meets your waiting gaze. Under the ship’s bright rooms, his eyes were obviously violet, heavy on the purple. He’s chewing his bottom lip like he isn’t sure he wants to go through with saying any of this and you wonder if he must be thinking of how weird things were between everyone when he learned of the alien part of his heritage.

Your mouth quirks up into a smile.

You were more than willing to stuff someone into a cryopod if they bothered Keith. He may be part of Voltron, tasked with defending the universe, but you’d make sure there was someone to defend him.

An embarrassing rush of heat bubbles under your skin. You look away, nervous.

“Shiro,” Keith asks.

Shiro nods, wrapping his arms fully around Keith’s shoulder. “Galra settling is when Galra,” he looked like he was trying to figure out exactly what he was talking about as he said it. Aliens were weird. “When Galra reach a certain age their appearance locks in.” Even Shiro looks a little puzzled. He was a pilot, not a biologist. You knew organisms back on earth who could manipulate their genotypes, generally sex changes with the right environmental conditions, but you weren’t sure there was anything comparable to whatever this was. “The Galra are apparently very adaptable in individuals. That’s why there’s such a range of them.”

Huh.

That explained the fur, range of tails, more reptilian looking once, and the eyes.

You wanted a Galra biology course, a full semester long one. What exactly caused such a plasticity in their phenotype? Did the trait have to be encoded in their genotype to appear or was there something freakier, Allura’s space magic, going on?

“-because he’s half human and we don’t go through anything like this it’s more painful than it would be. Lotor said the chameleonic abilities of Alteans helped him when he went through this,” Shiro finishes without a satisfying or thorough explanation.

At least Keith wasn’t dying.

Thank god.

Thank whatever freaky Altean magic existed in the universe.

“So,” Lance starts, “it’s Galra puberty.”

In a split second Keith loses any self consciousness about the situation, “it’s not Galra puberty!” His hair puffs up and you have to fight the urge to laugh, covering your face with your hands.

“There’s…” Shiro glances at Keith, before Lance and Keith could really get into it, “there’s more.”

Keith looks mullish, but ultimately gives Shiro the go ahead.

“Part of these..changes,” the black paladin explains, “have brought out some Galra instincts.” Clearly he was having as much trouble grappling with what this meant as Keith was. Your body suddenly deciding to change was no fun when you had no context for it. “Among them, the need to scent family…”

Pidge tilts her head, “is this like the most convoluted and emotionally constipated way of asking for a hug,” she asks Keith.

Keith smiles wryly, “pretty much.”

“Oh come here dude,” Hunk grins, engulfing Keith and Shiro in a hug.

“Ah number four,” Coran points up in the air, “I am now just recalling the galra that lived on Altea having explained this once, of course it didn’t occur to me because of the apparent dominance of your human genes.”

“So they’re actually co-dominant,” you muse as Lance drags Pidge along for a “group hug!”

“No.no,” Pidge makes a half-hearted effort to wiggle out, being a younger sibling herself, was used to being subjected to affection. She smiles even as she struggles.

“It would seem so,” Coran nods, “though not every gene.”

“Just these.” You wonder if there’s a space equivalent of the human genome project.

“Lance,” Keith yelps, “that’s my foot.”

“Buddy, I am not feeling the love here.”

“Is it working,” Hunk asks, peering at Keith, “are you going to turn purple now?”

“No one turns purple from hugs,” Keith replies, annoyed but makes no move to pull away.

“Thank you for trusting us with this Keith,” Allura smiles, her eyes crinkling.

“Get in on this too Princess,” Shiro motions over, before catching your gaze, “you too. Don’t think you can get out of this. You’re part of Voltron too.”

You snort, and join the group hug.

Pidge’s elbow is a bony thorn in your side and there’s the slight hum from Shiro’s prosthetic, but it’s a good mix of warmth and intimacy with the people you were closest to in the entire universe. Allura’s shoulder presses into you back and it’s sort of ballooned to ridiculous proportions, Keith somewhere in the center of it all, his hair barely visible to you.

“Add cuddling Keith to the chore wheel,” Pidge proposes.

Keith groans.

“How about we let Keith decide,” Shiro proposes.

You snort, knowing him too well. “Are you willing to take that risk? Died-from lack of hugs.”

Lance laughs.

Shiro looks convinced by your stellar argument.

“I’m not that bad,” Keith grumbles.

“You’re a terrible hugger,” Lance argues back. “You’re all stiff, like you’re enduring one of Iverson’s paradox sims. Not as bad as my abuelo but still.”

Keith lunges for Lance.

Someone topples over.

Everyone falls.

You laugh, smothered by limps and someone’s hair in your mouth…maybe Hunk’s? You don’t move, worried about kicking someone’s head.

From somewhere, Keith does that low rumbling chest noise that reminds you of a cat purring happily.

No one makes fun of him for it.

——————

“You should comb your hair before we take the pod down,” you tell Keith. You’d spent your free time before this alliance dinner scrolling through a datapad, trying to learn names, where they hailed from, species, things that may prove useful.

Half a varga ago, Keith had found you balled up on a sofa, and sat next to you, his way of asking for physical comfort. You’d obliged him readily, throwing an arm over his shoulders and spooning him as you both laid on the sofa. He was already in the paladin uniforms that Allura had dug out once the alliance became a reality instead of a loose string of rebel groups fighting the Galra empire.

You’re both short and slight, fitting together perfectly.

You squash any feelings you have, this wasn’t about you, it was about him. You’d done it a thousand times with Hunk or Lance, fallen asleep listening to Allura, why should Keith be any different? (You know why.)

He’s reading the screen with you.

“I doubt they’d notice,” he remarks as you scroll to a particularly vivid color alien race with sensory appendages sprouting from their heads.

“You have a point desert bum,” you tease, “I’d rather be a bum by a beach town. All surfer bro.”

“Can you even surf,” he asks flatly.

“No. Learned how to swim at the garrison,” you admit. “But tanning by the water has to be more appealing than roasting under the Texas sun.”

“I like the desert.”

“I know.” You were pretty sure everyone just liked their homes.

“It’s quiet,” he admits, “and watching how the sunlight transforms the landscape…”

“It’s too big and wide,” you admit, thinking of space. Flat land that went on forever…empty dark space that went on forever.

“Good for driving,” Keith smirks.

You laugh. Or course that’s where his mind went. “Sure, but it all looks the same, everywhere you turn.” It was disorienting. To be fair, you were a city girl. Your background noise was cars honking and people yelling even at four in the morning. The garrison had been a big adjustment.

“It’s really not. You just have to look.”

“I’ll trust my gps,” you counter, “not my sense of direction. I’d probably end up one of those cautionary tales about mirages and deserts.”

“You can’t really get a good signal,” Keith replies lazily, his body slack against yours, “out there. It’s best to mark a trail with chalk if you don’t know the area.”

“But you do, know it I mean?”

“Out past the Garrison? Mhm. All of it. We used to go hiking…before,” he trails off.

You press your lips to his hair lightly, before shifting, “my arms asleep.”

“Sorry.”

“I don’t mind.” You sit up, “it’s nice. I used to put my sister to sleep this one year she had nightmares almost every night.”

“You miss her,” Keith states, sitting up, looking at you with his intense expression. Having someone focused one hundred percent on you was a new experience. He wasn’t thinking of a thousand other things, just you.

“I do. I miss everyone, but,” you shrug, “I’ll see them again. Meanwhile you’re stuck with me.” You smile fondly at Keith. “I’m going to change before we have to go to dinner.”

“I’d take fighting Zarkon anyday,” Keith mutters, cringing at the upcoming show of diplomacy. There was so much smiling and hand shaking. It was exhausting to be that extroverted with a roomful of strangers.

Even Lance zonked out after these things.

“Knock on wood,” you laugh.

_____________

Treaties have been signed. A wrecked Galra fleet floats in space above the planet your on today, but today’s battle is won.

One of Lotor’s General’s is here, Acza. She’s wary, and surprised at the warm reception she’d received. She might be Galra, but she’d been crucial in taking down the Galra base’s shields. Biolocks, Zarkon should really rethink those.

You sip at your thick drink, warm and flavored like cinnamon oatmeal, that chases off the chill of the night. The idea had been to sleep, your hands still ached from all the sutures and stitches you’d woven, but Allura refused to hear it, dragging you along. There would be time for sleep on the Castle, she’d claimed, joyous to have helped another besieged planet.

“My congratulations,” a Blade utters from behind their glowing mask.

You jump, not having known there was even a Blade here. They were allies, yet their anonymity that made them so useful in information gathering, created a gap between you. You had no way of knowing who this person was. Their suit obscuring any details, the mask a rank.

You couldn’t even see their eyes.

“For what,” you ask, puzzled. You hadn’t fought. Your skills made you most useful after the battle, trying to save lives and patch up wounds. It was important and emotional draining work, but you hardly won battles.

Because of the mask, you can’t get a read on their reaction. Blades. Spies. Maybe if you could see their eyes…

They nod, and walk off without explanation.

You watch them go, still confused until they disappear among the bodies loitering around, celebrating liberation.

It was a feat to disappear when you were eight feet tall.

First the Galra had avoided you like the plague, the black plague, now they were being cryptic as fuck.

You lean your head down, trying to sniff your armpits without making it too obvious. Was it the blood? Or the space bleach? That tended to linger.

You didn’t smell that bad. Certainly like bleach and rubbing alcohol…

You take another sip of your drink, looking around for a place to sit. You’d been on your feet for too long. You wanted to sleep.

Someone would find you.

You wander around. Smiling when someone notices you, and thanks you and you hurry to get away before they ask you a hundred questions. There were only eight humans in space. Well, seven and a half. You stood out.

They wanted Voltron, but you would do.

“There’s space here,” Acxa calls out.

“Thanks,” you plop down next to her, sagging into the seat. Oh, yeah, you were so freaking tired.

“Of course. You look dead.”

“Yeah,” you look around the rebel camp, “I’ve no clue how they have the energy.”

“It’s like that everywhere. This is their home,” Acza offers, “people fight hard for their homes.”

You nod, before looking over at the alien woman, “not avoiding me anymore then?”

She shrugs, not disputing the allegation. “No need anymore, now that you and Keith sorted yourselves out.” She’s so blunt about it. “Galra are so sensitive when settling. We didn’t want to cause any incidents.”

“Is this about the scenting?” You still hadn’t had time to read through the information you’d gotten your grubby little hands on.

She nods.

You put your drink down on the mossy ground. “Yeah, Keith explained it. Well, Shiro did, really. Lance is over the moon about having an excuse to bother Keith.” Now you really all were a family. You’d named it outloud.

Acxa’s brows furrow, “Lance?”

“I think he just misses his family a lot,” you offer. “We all do and while we’re family too, it’d be nice to see our family back on earth too.”

She frowns. “Keith and you are not,” she asks slowly.

“Me and Keith,” you flush, ducking away from her. “No-I, no. We’re not.” You should’ve gone back to the Castle the moment Allura turned her back. She would’ve never known.

Acxa’s frown becomes tinged with anger and worry, her hand grabs your wrist. “Galra have more than one type of scenting, between families, and between partners.”

“Oh.”

You try to connect the dots but your brain gets stuck between ideas. Scenting. Keith. You. You and Keith. It was right there but-

“Keith isn’t marking you as family,” she explains slowly, “he’s marking you as his partner.” Acxa waits until her words sink in before adding, “to do so without letting the other know…” She makes it clear what a social taboo that is.

But you’re one step behind her.

Did Keith like you?

You think back to all the times you’d been with him in the past few vargas, trying to pinpoint any hint: he’d smiled at you but he was happier now in general so it could be a coincidence…

“If you need,” Acxa offers, “I will help clarify the situation.” It’s an awfully kind gesture.

“No,” you say in a rush. “no. It’s-I think I need to go talk to Keith.” He’d known what he was doing…you could draw a thousand conclusions but nothing would be better than confronting him about it.

“If you’re sure.”

“I am,” you stand up, glancing around. During parties, Keith tended to find a quiet corner out of the way. He’d opened up, but he was still more of an introvert.

You find Keith lying stretched out in the shadow of a makeshift building, looking up at the stars. It’s his eyes that give him away, reflecting the light enough to be inhuman, nocturnal vision.

“We need to talk,” you wrap your arms around your body. You weren’t angry, just confused. Didn’t he know he could just come talk to you about it by now?  

Keith looks up, startled, then stands. “Alright.” He sounds resigned, a man sentenced to detention for a month which was janitorial duties at the garrison. It kept even the most smartass cadets humble.

You look around.

No one was really here. You could hear the music and people a bit further into the heart of the camp. Here was good enough.

“I talked to Acxa,” you start, “she said-” you look down at the trampled vegetation underfoot. It was embarrassing to your human preconceptions to even think, let alone say, which was why you were pretty sure Keith didn’t mean any harm. Scenting meant nothing on earth, where he’d grown up. “She said you’ve been scenting me, which like I know but not that way?” You look up at him as realization sets in and he ducks his head, looking away. “Is it true?”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “I-,” he takes a deep breath before ranting, the agitation and months of buried emotions flooding out, “I hate this. I hate that I can hear the conversation outside and smell which direction  Shiro’s in and how much my eyes hurt on the Castle from how bright it is but I don’t-I can’t say anything because I’m already enough of a freak. Before I was just the weird kid but now I’m just a fucking alien freak! There’s always so much going on and I don’t even know what’s next!”

You wait, wondering if there was more.

It was a lot of changes.

You couldn’t understand, there was nothing in your life comparable to your biology deciding to be a little more Galra after twenty years.

“And I tried not to-,” he admits, meeting your waiting gaze, “I tried to leave everyone alone so you wouldn’t,” Keith swallows, forcing himself to continue with an obvious disgust at himself, “you wouldn’t smell like me or whatever Lotor explained but I couldn’t-it was driving me crazy like this itch, this buzzing under my skull and seeing you guys with others-I thought I was going crazy until Lotor explained. And then when Lance would ruffle my hair or you would check that I wasn’t about to fall over and die and-,” he waves his hands in the air, “I would just zone out.”

“Oh,” you utter, recalling past events with a newfound understanding. Keith had been reaching out, all instinct even when he was trying not to be a bother. It broke your heart, how he always came from the perspective that he was an inconvenience.

“I did know,” he says in a small voice. “That-you…but I don’t know if it’s me or this, or all these things happening to me.”

Your expression wobbles. You bite your lower lip, trying to get a handle on it. How silly to worry about a crush when Keith was going through it.

“I like you, but I don’t know if I like you or if it’s just these stupid Galra instincts messing with my head.” Keith deflates, drawing into himself. “Everything

s…it’s been a lot.”

“I get it,” you utter, “maybe not the situation but I’m not mad. Though Acxa was ready to kick your ass and she totally could,” you try teasing.

But Keith flinches, looking away guiltily.

“I’m joking. I-I get why. It makes sense. It’s a lot to get used to.” You swallow, not sure what to do about anything either.

“Its a huge offence,” Keith utters, “that’s why she was pissed. Made worse because you can’t even tell…I-I couldn’t think straight and I…it took the edge off.”

“Scenting me?”

He nods.

You take a step towards him.

“I-,” Keith’s eyes meet yours, his attention entirely captivated by you. It sends a thrill down your spine. You’d seen how he could be when laser focused: on piloting, on training. “I know they say it’s wrong but you and Lance do stuff like that all the time. And I thought…I figured I could figure out how much of what I’m feeling is me and how much of it are these new instincts.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you tell him. “I-you’re right, it’s whatever to me. Like, a Blade congratulated me earlier which was weird but fuck them you know? I can ‘smile and nod’,” you smile as fakely as possible to show what you mean, “through it so long as you’re okay.” He’d bled in your lap.

Keith looks a little unsteady, unsure what to do with your lack of anger. “You don’t-”

“So is it like galra marriage then?” You were curious as to what exactly the Blades were going to gossip about you and Keith.

He makes a choked sound. “Sort of. They bond. It can be broken but that generally means someone killed the other.”

“Let me guess,” you reply, “Zarkon fucked even that up.”

Keith nods.

“That guy’s the worst.” Your voice is light.

Keith snorts, smiling for a split second. “I won’t anymore. I’ll-”

“Keith,” your voice cracks as you out your hand on his arm to keep him from rubbing off, “if its really causing you all this additional confusion in too of everything…you can…” the words were too intimate to say, too charged with a sensuality that he clearly was figuring out. You were willing to wait. For him.

He was conflicted enough without you dumping your feelings on him.

“You don’t-”

You raise your hand, caressing the side of his face with the back of your hand, ghosting over the purple mark on his cheek, “I don’t mind.” Sure, you had a crush on him, you could admit that much, but more simply, you loved him.

This was a small ask.

Your gaze flickers to the tips of his ears.

You had washed his blood off your hands.

“Besides, shit’s hard enough. My arm falling asleep is a small price to pay if I can help you.”

Keith’s mouth quirks up in a smile.

You laugh, “come here.”

It finally sinks in that you weren’t just talking bs. You meant it, as you hug Keith, wrapping your arms around his middle. He smelled good in spite of the battle he’d been through earlier.

Without really thinking, you breathe in the scent of him.

Keith hugs you back, cuddling you against his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You yawn. “want to sneak back into the castle?”

“Only if you tell Allura you’re the one who wanted to leave,” he deadpans dazedly.

You laugh.

——————

“Come,” Allura motions as you stand from one of the Castle’s weapons systems, “we must meet with the rebel leadership on planet.”

The planet was a farming camp.

The slaves were overworked and underfed and they had still revolted when they learned Voltron was near. Now, they were free.

“Princess,” Coran calls out, “it appears that number four is heading back to the ship.”

A pained expression crosses Allura’s broad features, her full mouth frowning, before she decides to pick her battles for the day. “I am sure Keith has a good reason for his actions.” She sounds like she’s trying to convince herself.

You don’t want to go down there either.

This entire last week had been spent synthesizing medicine and treating thousands of people made harder by the range of species. The garrison better give you that medical degree immediately.

“I’ll go check on him,” you say automatically, “he might need me to prep a pod.”

“Fantastic idea number five,” Coran believes your excuse.

“Let us know if anything happens,” Allura says, giving you a long look, before heading for the exit.

The central Galra soldiers had been taken out, but small bands of fighters were still fighting to their last breath. It’s why Voltron has remained on the planet.

The lions had roamed the landscape answering calls for aid and hunting down the last of Zarkon’s forces here.

You meet Keith in the red lion’s hanger.

He’s popping his helmet off, running a hand through his flattened hair. “I thought you were headed out with Allura?”

You shrug, suddenly feeling awkward. “I was, but I wanted to check on you first.” That was a normal thing to do for your friends. There was no reason to overthink things.

“I’m fine.”

He sets the helmet aside, working on undoing the armor off. There was dirt and dust but thankfully no blood to speak of, his or otherwise.

“Then I’ll see you there,” you ask.

Keith looks over, a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar, his smile slight when he replies, “I’m not heading there.” Blunt. Concise.

“It is depressing,” you admit. There was so much resource allocation and need planet-wide.

He raises a brow. “Oh. Yeah.”

“Keith?” Now you’re wondering what the real problem was. “What is it?”

“Does it matter. I don’t need to be there. Shiro and Allura can handle it.” He looks away, suddenly very interested in the wall. Unlike the rest of the ship, the red lion’s hanger was dim, in a permanent night cycle.

Pidge’s work.

“I think the people would like all of Voltron present.” Then you make a face, “oh god, I sound just like Allura don’t I?”

Keith laughs, “just a bit. As long as you don’t make us all meditate…”

“It’s so boring. I fall asleep.” You smile softly, “Seriously, go down for a moment. Then you can hide out here.”

“I-I’d rather not.” He shifts uncomfortably. “Four out of five is is fine.”

“I’m sure they’ll understand,” you agree.

“I’m sure they’ll be glad.”

“Keith-” you start, knowing he already felt hyper aware of how his appearance had changed. Before, it hadn’t really ever come up outside of the team. No one would tell and if Keith wasn’t vocal about it…now everyone in the entire universe probably knew.

There were rebel Galra, mostly in prisons and work camps. Feelings varied.

“That’s not true,” you say, not sure if it was true, “you helped free them.” You shift your weight onto your other foot, “there’s a few assholes everywhere.”

He gives you a long look. “The Galra enslaved all these people.”

“Pfft,” you wave off, “you look like one sixteenth Galra. And-”

“They stare.”

“Because you’re a paladin,” you reason. “Pidge is also cranky about the attention.”

Keith sighs.

The paladin armor lies in a discarded pile.

You step forward to him, “anyone would be lucky to have you as a pilot. And Voltron sort of lucked out when the red lion chose you.”

Keith’s eyes widen as he looks at you, pink dusting his cheeks.

In for a penny, in for a pound, you lean forward and kiss his cheek, ghosting over his skin, “face marks and all.” You can’t meet his gaze when you pull away, blushing fiercely.

Why did you do that!

God, you were so dumb-

He cups your cheeks and brushes his lips over yours.

Oh! Oh.

“Is-is this okay-,” Keith starts asking.

You feel giddy, smiling before kissing him. Yeah, it was okay.

#keith kogane #vld keith #keith x reader #voltron #mine #trying this agin to see if it shows up in the tags #as usual: is this any good? #was supposed to b smut but turned into fluff

[jxsatlas]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍 ⇢ keith kogane, ch. 1

keith kogane x gn! reader – next

DISCLAIMER! this story does not originally belong to me, the author is @MaddieWolf37 on Wattpad. i have simply received permission to rewrite and continue her story. go and check out her profile for the original version!

SYNOPSIS! a story in which you are thrown into the middle of an intergalactic space war and have the undesirable weight of being a symbol of peace dropped on your shoulders. but maybe if you look past the constant danger and endless fighting, there's some good to being a paladin of voltron.

MATURE CONTENT! swearing, violence, gore, war, graphic descriptions, mentions of self-harm

"Galaxy Garrison flight log 5-11-14," Lance announces, "Begin descent to Kerberos for a rescue mission."

He shoves the yoke forward and the aircraft takes a steep dive. You plant your feet to help fight against the inertia. You give him a sharp glare as the aircraft steadies out.

"Ugh, Lance, can you keep this thing straight?" Hunk whines from the back.

You look over your shoulder and recognise the nauseated expression on his face all too well. Last semester, there was a girl on your team that didn't do too well with excessive motion and often got sick.

Lance brushes him off. "Relax Hunk, I'm just getting a feel for the stick," he says with a lazy grin, which quickly turns mischievous. "It's not like I did this, or this!" Lance jerks the aircraft side to side, making Hunk feel worse.

"Knock it off, Lance," you warn from your chair next to him. You reach up above you and press a few buttons in hopes of stabilising the aircraft out after Lance's little joke.

"Yeah, listen to [y/n] unless you wanna wipe beef stroganoff out of all the little nooks and crannies of this thing," Hunk groans angrily.

"We've picked up a distress signal!" Pidge says from his seat in the back.

"Alright, time to quit our bickering and get serious," you say, doing your own little thing to accommodate for the lower altitude while Lance flies the aircraft.

"Pidge, track the coordinates," Lance says with a roll of his eyes at your comment.

Pidge does so, typing away on the computer. The aircraft gives a large rumble and Hunk groans again.

"Knock it off, Lance! Please!" he whines, his face all scrunched up in discomfort.

"Oh, that's on you buddy," Lance says sharply. "We got a hydraulic stabiliser out."

Hunk nods and goes to fix it, but when the aircraft shakes again he gags. "Oh no."

"Oh no, fix now, puke later," Lance growls.

So much bickering... you think to yourself with a sigh.

"I lost contact!" Pidge says. "The shaking is interfering with our sensors."

Lance looks over his shoulder at Hunk. "Come on, dude!"

"Sorry, it's not responding," Hunk says and unfastens his safety belt. He carefully gets up and makes his way over to the gearbox to see what's up.

"Coordinates are back," you say, seeing the blue dot on the dash.

"Nevermind Hunk," Lance says.

"No, he still needs to fix it," you say. "We can't properly fly this thing if a hydraulic stabiliser is out."

"Whatever," Lance rolls his eyes, "Preparing for approach on visual."

"I don't think that's advisable, given our current mechanical..." Pidge warns, trailing off when he hears Hunk gag again. "...and gastrointestinal issues..."

"Agreed!" Hunk says, not before quickly emptying his stomach into the gearbox with the unsavoury sounds of food chunks and liquid hitting the metal. You cringe, not liking the sound, and hope he's okay.

"Stop worrying," Lance says dismissively.

"No, they're right," you say firmly as you place your attention on Lance now. "We should wait before we do anything."

"Nah, this baby can take it! Can't ya champ?" Lance coos and pats the dash. The aircraft rumbles again and he retracts his hand with a sheepish look. "See? She was nodding!"

"That wasn't nodding Lance," you deadpan. "Now listen to us and wait."

"I'm the one flying this thing, aren't I?" Lance asks. "So I'm in charge, and that means what I say goes!"

"Excuse you, we're both flying this thing," you argue.

Ignoring you, Lance turns to Pidge. "Pidge, hail down on them and let them know their ride is here," he says.

Knowing that you're now doomed, you keep your mouth shut and wait for the inevitable failure of the simulation. You can already see it, the big, bold, red letters appearing on the dash.

And when Lance flies towards an overhang, tilting the plane as much as he can in a sad attempt to thread through the little hole rather than going over or around, you know this is where you fail.

Lance doesn't make it. The wing gets torn off, the alarms blare, and the aircraft pummels to the ground. The dash goes black and those red letters you were anticipating appear without hesitation.

Simulation Failed.

The first failure on your school record.

You toss your head back and sharply exhale, frustration building up in you. "Nice going," you grumble and look at Lance through the corner of your eye.

He catches your gaze and glares at you. "Oh, shut up," he growls.

The four of you sit in silence for a second, you and Lance glaring at each other, before an instructor opens the door and beckons you to come out.

Reluctantly, you all unfasten your safety belts and crawl out of the aircraft. You then mentally prepare yourselves for the lecture about how you are all failures to come.

You, Lance, Hunk, and Pidge line up before the Commander, avoiding his scowling gaze.

"Let's see if we can't use this complete failure as a lesson for the rest of you," Commander Iverson's voice booms angrily. He's not at all impressed with your behaviour. "Can anyone point out the mistakes these so-called cadets made during the simulator?"

"The engineer puked in the main gearbox!" a boy from the back of the group of students shouts out. Iverson nods and turns to Hunk.

"Yes. Everyone knows vomit is not an approved lubricant for engine systems," Iverson sharply criticises Hunk. He turns back to the students. "What else?"

"The comms-spec removed his safety harness," a girl points out.

"The pilot crashed!" another shouts.

Iverson nods, approving of all the answers given. "And worst of all, the whole jump they're arguing with each other," he growls and turns to the four of you once more.

You keep your gaze on the ground shamefully.

"The Galaxy Garrison exists to turn young cadets like you into the next generation of elite astro-explorers," Iverson lectures. His hands are on his hips as he looks down at you. "But these kinds of mental mistakes are exactly what caused the lives of the men on the Kerberos Mission."

In your peripherals, you notice Pidge clench his fists at his sides and scrunch his nose up in anger. You fully turn your head to him when he takes a bold step towards the Commander.

"That's not true, sir!" he barks.

Iverson looks at him and glares. "What was that, young man?" he growls.

Lance quickly slaps a hand over Pidge's mouth and pulls him back in line. "Sorry, sir! He must've hit his head when he fell!" he says, smiling sheepishly in a sad attempt to cover up his fear. His hand gets tighter over Pidge's mouth, almost as if he's asking the ginger what the hell is wrong with him.

With Lance speaking up, Iverson's attention is now pinpointed on him. He takes a few steps closer to Lance, his intimidating figure making your brother cower back a bit.

"I hope I don't need to remind you that the only reason you're here," he growls, his tone of voice menacing and powerful, "is because the best pilot in your class had a disciplinary issue and flunked out."

Lance drops his gaze down to the floor, a look of dejection taking over his face.

"Don't follow in his footsteps," Iverson warns. He stares Lance down a bit before abruptly turning to you. "And you!" he barks.

Your entire body freezes up and your eyes wearily follow him as he stops in front of you now. Your heart sinks down to your gut.

"I expected better of you."

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

You returned to your dorm at the end of the day with a cloud over your head.

You grumble about the day's events as you aggressively tug your shirt over your head. You really wish you could pinpoint the source of your frustration. Are you mad at my brother? Your team? Or yourself?

You toss your clothes on the floor and pull out some track shorts and a hoodie from your dresser. Getting dressed in your pajamas for the rest of the night, you try to sort out your emotions.

"Stop mumbling to yourself," your roommate says from her bed.

You turn to her. "Ah, sorry," you say. "I didn't realise I was talking out loud..."

"If you're that mad at your brother why don't you just punch him?" she asks. You blink, surprised she actually heard you.

"I'm not violent like you," you say with a sigh. "Besides, I don't even know if I'm mad at him specifically."

"Eh, I would punch him either way," your roommate shrugs. "It's a good way to alleviate your stress."

You roll your eyes. "I alleviate my stress by sleeping."

Your roommate laughs. "Ain't that the truth?" she jests. "How many times have you taken a nap between classes this week?"

You stare at her with a blank expression for a moment before picking your clothes up and off of the ground. "I'm not answering that," you say and toss them into the hamper.

You and your roommate pause when there's a knock on the door. You look at her and she looks at you.

She raises her hands up. "And I'm not answering that," she says.

You roll your eyes and grab one of the dirty articles of clothing you tossed into the hamper and throw at her without any remorse. She yelps in fear and disgust as you walk to the door with a smirk on your face.

"Don't throw your nasty underwear at me!" she barks and she pinches the panties between her thumb and index finger, tossing them as far away from her as possible.

You cackle and open the door. Your laughter cuts short when you're suddenly face to face with your brother. Hunk stands behind him.

"What are you doing in the girls' dorm?" you ask, but then take the opportunity you just created for yourself to tease your dear elder brother. You think of it as a bit of revenge for crashing the simulator. "Visiting someone?"

Lance rolls his eyes. "Heh, I wish," he sighs. "But no. We're thinking about hitting the town tonight! You know, for some team bonding?"

"Who is it?" your roommate calls to you.

"Lance and Hunk," you say over your shoulder at her.

"Punch him!" she shouts back.

"No!" you hiss and turn back to your brother.

"I don't like your roommate," Lance comments under his breath.

"Neither do I," you joke.

"I heard that!" your roommate barks.

"No you didn't!" you ready. But getting the feeling that she's going to keep interrupting, you push Lance out of your way and step into the hall with him and Hunk. You then close the door and give the boys your full attention.

"So, you're gonna come with us?" Lance asks.

"I don't know," you say with uncertainty in your tone. You cross your arms. "It's past curfew and I don't really think you have off-campus privileges..."

"That doesn't matter," Lance waves his hand dismissively. "Iverson wants us to bond as a team, so why don't we listen to him for once?"

"I'm not feeling that adventurous," you say.

"What? Why not? It'll be fun!" Lance cajoles.

"Lance, your idea of fun always ends up with you and me in the principal's office," Hunk reminds. "Don't drag your little sibling into it."

"Hunk has a point," you say. "I don't want to get in trouble again. I had my filling for today."

"Since when were you a goodie-two-shoes?" Lance asks in a somewhat offended tone.

"Since I got a scholarship here?" you quirk an eyebrow at him.

"Who are you and what have you done with my sibling?" Lance says as he gives you a look of utter betrayal, as if you were some alien.

You roll your eyes. "I'm not too keen on losing something like that because I went along with your dumb shenanigans," you sigh.

"Please, the max punishment for something like this is just a weekend detention with old man Brechin," Lance says and a mischievous grin spreads on his face. "That is, if you get caught."

You bite your lip, looking away in thought. Team bonding sounds very appealing after what happened today, but are you willing to risk your scholarship? You don't know if you can lose it because of a simple detention. The Galaxy Garrison is a government program, which means they are pretty strict.

"Do you really need to think about it?" Lance asks with raised eyebrows. "Don't tell me you're scared!"

His words irk you immensely.

You snap your gaze up to him. Is he serious? You aren't scared. Why would you be scared of sneaking out?

You silently walk back into your dorm and quickly throw a bra on, some socks, and your shoes.

"Where are you going?" your roommate asks as she watches you scramble about the room with a sense of purpose all of a sudden.

"Team bonding," you say, now tying the laces of your shoes.

"This late? Are you sure?" she asks.

"All common sense in me left the moment Lance basically called me a scaredy-cat," you say bluntly.

"Well, have fun," your roommate says.

You give her a small salute as you walk out of the dorm. "I'll be back by morning."

"Alright, see ya!"

You close the door and turn to Lance and Hunk expectantly. "Well?"

Lance gives you a cocky grin, proud of his persuasion skills. You suddenly consider your roommate's suggestion for a second.

"We need to go grab Pidge," Lance says. "It won't be team bonding if someone's missing. You gotta have everybody."

You shrug, doubting Pidge will join.

Lance takes the liberty of leading the way to the boys' dorm, you and Hunk following closely behind. You expertly dodge the officers patrolling the halls making sure students are in their dorms like ninjas on a stealth mission.

As Lance rounds a corner, he suddenly stops and back peddles quickly. He peeks around the corner and watches whatever is on the other side. Curious, you and Hunk sneak up close to Lance and peek as well.

Pidge steps out of his room, a backpack swung over his shoulders. He checks his surroundings before closing the door and running off.

You, Lance, and Hunk share a look. You all then telepathically agree to follow the small boy. Once again, Lance takes the lead.

#voltron #wattpad #keith #voltron keith #keith kogane #x reader #keith x reader #gender neutral reader #vld #vld fanfic #fanfiction #vld keith

[fill-me-with-your-memes-daddy]

Watching the Rise of the Titans movie and I'll be documenting all of my thoughts/reactions here. [Spoiler Warning]

So instead of reblogging every new update, I'm just going to have this post up on my phone as I watch and type my reactions in a bullet list format.

Nari's human disguise is so cute. As someone who does have a cottagecore aesthetic, I want to cosplay her so bad

Are Skrael and/or Belroc non-binary coded? Regardless, I'm also obsessed and I want to fuck Skrael and be Belroc.

STEVE CARING ABOUT JIM BEING HURT YESSSS!!! My god his redemption has probably been one of the greatest there is because he doesn't just suddenly go from being a bully to a completely good person. You can see the gradual shift in learning better throughout the shows which is awesome.

IN NEW YOOOOOOORRRRRRRK!!!!!! CONCRETE JUNGLE WHERE DREAMS ARE MADE OFFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!!!

The mugshot montage reminded me of season 1 of trollhunters when toby and Jim were arrested at the museum.

STRICKLER PUT A RING ON IT??? HE'S THE ONLY DILF IVE EVER ACTUALLY AGREED WAS HOT WYM I CAN'T HAVE HIM??? well I'm still really happy about his arc over the series probably one of my favorite character growths.

Eli my guy got his growth spurt!!! As an 18 year old who is still 5'0", I'm happy but envious for him

So I went into this movie without watching any trailers or promo, but I doubt anything could have prepared me for the existence of mpreg. In fact, I wasn't going to document my reactions until I saw that.

NAMURA!!!!!!!!! MY BELOVED!!!!!! I CAN STILL THIRST FOR YOU WITHOUT GUILT

The coach teacher just called the kids zoomers so I have to dock one point from my final rating just because of that. Unforgivable

Those husky animation models suck lmao

Oh fuck the titans got power ranger zords!!

God why did they include the mpreg??? This movie would have been perfect without it.... After that plot point being revisited only one time I'm already beyond done with it

Like it's bringing me back to the v*ltron days where they're was a suspiciously high amount of klance omegaverse and mpreg fics and art created and it physically hurts because Steve and Keith's voice actor is the same person meaning this is especially cursed to me since I was unfortunately in the v*ltron fandom and remember all of that

But like on another note, how old are these characters again??? I haven't checked any wikis because of spoilers but is Steve an adult??? I know aja might be technically a lot older than 18 because alien but is whatever age she is equivalent to an adult as far as emotionally and physically in Akaridion development??? IS THIS A TEEN (M)PREGNANCY IN A KIDS SHOW????

Like bruh I saw a singular post on here before going into the movie that was like "rott spoilers without context" and there was a pregnant belly but I was absolutely not expecting the actual context of it. I'll find the post after I finish and edit this post to tag the creator right here: @makoden

This entire post is just gonna be me ranting about mpreg huh

Anyway I love the whole roundtable allusion to the legends of king arthur (not the toa version but the one he's based off)

THERE'S 3 TO 5 BABIES????? I need to take a break bruh this is just too much

Alright I've taken a 30 minute break got some food and did some things i love (decompressed by tactile stimming with some owl plushies and watched some videos on my favorite owl, Garu. He lives in Japan with his owner and is a domesticated eagle owl who basically just acts like a sky cat. If anyone else needs some eye bleach, here is their YouTube channel)

Blinky and ARRRGHHH!!! saying their "if one of us doesn't make it" talk my god one of them is going to die I can see it and I will be utterly crushed. Jim can't lose another father figure and Toby can't lose his wingman again I will riot if this happens

On a similar but unrelated to the movie note, can we just talk about how toa started with Jim having 0 dads and (if strickler and blinky live to the end) will end with 2 dads? Like I just really feel happy for him that he has two dads who actually figured out how to put the past behind them to not have any infighting between them so that both of them are healthy father figures. Jim has already been through literal hell and back losing his actual humanity in the process so if he loses one of them, I'm going to be really pissed because at this point, this is just Jim torture porn. Y'all know how as SpongeBob SquarePants went on, the show just became Squidward torture porn? It's starting to feel that way for toa and I really hope they cut the shit by the ending

Jlaire is such a good ship but like I feel like it's too perfect they never disagree with each other

YESSSSSSS Someone finally doesn't treat toby like a fat waste of space who messes stuff up!!! I think out of all the characters that would have been most deserving of a rewrite, it's Toby. Sometimes I just feel he's only comic relief and any heartfelt moments he's had in the series was also born of stupidity (ie his flour baby project being unharmed was seen by him as divine intervention from his parents but was actually just Eli and Steve behind the scenes).

Ohhhhh yesssssss Archie's father!!! I was hoping I'd see him again because we got so little of him last

Ooooooooooh Asian trollmarket!!!!!

Oh never mind slavery trollmarket

Bruh titanic camelot

I feel like we're not seeing enough of the villains because I completely forgot about the power ranger zord things

NAMORA NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MY LAST CRUSHHHH

STRICKLER NO NOT YOU TOO PLEASE

WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE ONLY TWO CHARACTERS I SIMP FOR ON THIS SHOW DIED WITHIN FIVE MINUTES OF EACH OTHER

THAT WHOLE ASS RANT I WROTE IS COMING TRUE FUCK THIS MOVIE THIS SERIES IS JUST JIM TORTURE PORN

WAIT JIM'S SPERM DONOR INFO?

Oh thank God I don't want to know anything about that person

For the record, I call that man Jim's sperm donor because he has no business being called a father to him. All he did was donate some swimmers to the creation of him and give him abandonment issues

Oh another blind troll elder???? This fucker is just if vendel was a bad guy

Bruh I was grieving

PACIFIC RIM WITH GUN ROBOT VEX AND THE BELROCZORD? I've never seen that movie but I know the reference

Bruh Blinky doesn't read horoscopes? Does he realize conspiracy theories are just the manly version of horoscopes?

NO DON'T KILL VEX STOP KO-ING FOUND FAMILY MEMBERS

Oh thank God he's okay

NO NOT ARCHIE AND CHARLEMAGNE OH MY GOD

oh never mind they're just gonna coup de tat I believe in them :))

But I want to see him again

But I'm glad to see vex

Yay they're in arcadia!

But yeah I wondered why the trolls and Merlin didn't keep the whole "daylight doesn't hurt trolls" feature from the eternal night but now Guillermo del Toro I see you were playing the long con in that just to kill my girl Namora :(((

Oooooh I love the animation of the Narizord over Chihuahua!! It looks very good and realistic (if only they could have put some of that into those huskies from before smh)

Bruh the character designs of the arcane order are so good I want to be them

Nari making sure the Skraelzord doesn't crush the bus

DAMN DOUBLE HOMICIDE

Bruh I'm just glad we finally have an answer on why arcadia had everything going on as opposed to literally anywhere else!! I always found that as a weird coincidence for plot convince.

BRUH WERE BACK TO THE MPREG IM SO JEALOUS I FORGOT ABOUT THAT EVEN THOUGH IT WAS BECAUSE I WAS GRIEVING THE LOSS OF MY LOVELIES.

Oh that's real convenient that the ninth configuration meant all of them. Way to not decide which character gets more attention. Though it probably was a smart way to not have any infighting in the fandom between each character's stan group.

Bruh I just realized where is Barbera did they just ditch her on the Camelot ship???

And where are the other trolls that migrated at the end of trollhunters s3? They said something about new jersey but obviously Jim and the other main characters got on Camelot instead.... This feels like a plot hole

And we never learned the process of how changelings are made and bonded to humans and stuff. We just know it's super painful but I'm curious ffs!!!!

THE DONT THINK BECOME HERO SPEECH ALL SAID TOGETHER!!!

BRUH THEY REALLY HAD TO SHOW HIM GIVING BIRTH??????? WAS THAT AN ABSOLUTE MUST??????

Plus the main audience for this series is little children (the rating for the movie is literally TV-Y7) so even though my adult ass is not in the target audience, I STILL DONT UNDERSTAND WHY WOULD MPREG AND ANAL BIRTH WOULD BE AN IMPORTANT THING TO 7 YEAR OLDS???? THIS IS A LITERAL FETISH HIDDEN IN KIDS CONTENT ITS ELSAGATE ALL OVER AGAIN Y'ALL 😭😭😭😭😭

Though it's probably hypocritical of me to think fetishes don't belong in kids tv when I've openly admitted to thirsting for strickler and namora

HUZZAH

NEW AMULET WAZ GOOD????

STAB THAT BITCH JIM

WAIT NO I SAID STAB NOT GET STABBED

Alright good job just missed the directions at first but you fixed it

SEVEN KIDS?????????

T O B Y ????????????

W A I T NO

N O

IS HE ACTUALLY

OH MY GOD THERE'S HOPE

NO THERE ISN'T

F U C K THIS SHIT THEY REALLY JUST HAD HIM TO BE BULLIED THEN KILLED

Y'ALL IM ACTUALLY CRYING THIS NEVER HAPPENS

I NEVER ACTUALLY GET SO EMOTIONAL OVER MEDIA THAT I CRY IT ONLY HAPPENED ONCE AT THE END OF VOLTRON BUT AHHHHHHHH

W A I T

HE'S GONNA BE BROUGHT BACK?????

HOLD UP THEY'RE JUST GONNA BRING ALL THOSE DEAD PEOPLE BACK??????

WAIT IS HE

BLINKY CALLED HIM A SON

HOLD ON IS THIS GOING TO BE A CLIFFHANGER???????????

BRUH THEY REALLY JUST CAN'T END THE SERIES WITHOUT CLIFFHANGERS like there's always an open ending

TROLLHUNTER TOBY????? You know what forget the whole rants I had on how toby was written they just redeemed it all

And that's all! I'd rate it a 6.5/10 because it's definitely the weakest of all the sequels but still had amazing animation and some good plot points. It's just really hard to look over the bad stuff enough to rate it any higher.

#tales of arcadia #rise of the titans #trollhunters #rott #rise of the titans spoilers #rott spoilers #toa #3 below #athena's own original post! #jim lake jr #claire nuñez #toby domzalski

[nesonkin]

HENLO :> i also feel like voltron did the coalition, rebel fighters and everyone in general dirty ;/ I WANNA HEAR YOUR REBEL FIGHTERS HEADCANONS SINCE CANON GAVE US NOTHING :D_ _

Emergency edit: So, my idiot ass accidentally posted this before I actually had the chance to finish the draft so think of it as part 1. So sorry about this...

[Second part]

WARNING: Long post

First of all, I am incredibly sorry about how long it took me to reply to you. The day I recieved this question I was very happy and excited that someone asked me about it and you truly made my day.

Although, I realized that my own headcanon lore wasn't exactly polished or properly thought out and I decided to delay with the answer to give you one that would be satisfying. In the process I lost my interest so the post would remain in my drafts for god knows how long.

But suddenly my interest came back to me so here I am.

It's going to be interesting answering this question given how little content we have of the rebels. So, when I try to think of headcanons it just becomes its own alternative universe exactly because I would have to fill the giant gaps in the Voltron Coalition lore.

Before I begin, I should probably clarify what my stances on canon and fanon are.

For one, while I see the appeal of Shiro x Matt it does not interest me as a romantic ship. I see and prefer them as shitty best friends, therefore if anyone expects romantic Shiro x Matt in this post they'd probably be dissappointed. (Same with Matt x Keith)

I also won't try to alter the canon events and only modify certain parts that were never elaborated on in canon. That's just how I prefer to handle these things.

This will incorporate the off-screen explanations and backstories for specific characters (Olia, N-7) both of which come from the Word of God.

Last but not the least, I am not particularly interested in the Voltron side of things (despite the series being literally named after it) so don't expect me talking about the paladins. But I will be talking about the impact that the Voltron has on the rebel fighters because it is pretty fucking huge.

More under the cut

I should clarify that this post is half me breaking down the canon lore and half me theorizing, headcanoning. I believe it helps provide context for some of my headcanons that I have.

Most of my headcanon lore relies on the timeline thing I made a year ago.

Unfortunately, it's still too vague to have any coherent story with this group. But on the bright sight, it just means that I can do whatever I want with the content that we do have!

First thing to consider is that Galra has been ruling over the galaxy for over 10,000 years. 10,000 years in human terms would be from the Middle of Stone age to the current era. And that is without the alien intervention. It is more likely that the Galra Empire would try to stop any kind of development of the species whose planets they've colonized. To prevent any chance of any of them becoming strong/smart enough to fight back.

One planet in particular could be Kythra. It's a planet inhabited by desert tribes from which Te-Osh supposedly originates from.

The point I want to make whilst talking about the Galra Empire is how much of a cultural and technological impact they have on the galaxy. While it's true that they also steal and appropriate creations of other species (Olkarion), it would be naive to think they wouldn't force their ways and culture onto every planet they colonize.

This is why Space Mall is kind of ridiculous... and just overall confusing. It doesn't seem to be properly owned by the Galra even though Varkon works as security. But it's no longer the Unilu owned place either. One of the unilu traders notes that his shop existed long before the empire was created meaning that the empire does have influence over the Space Mall. But it's just... a casual place where every species can just hang out and shop? What on Earth even is this place? Because it's not governed by the Galra Empire as evident by the fact that the paladins were able to freely show their presentation about Voltron with no one going after them. It's like a giant bubble where everyone forgets that the Galra fucking enslaved everyone. Such a weird place. Imagine a clearly popular hang out place in the Star Wars universe where everyone can just shop for whatever they want and there's never going to be any conflict and the Empire isn't going to attack it either. This is the Space Mall.

Well, enough with this nonsense and let's just move on.

The Space Mall episode did make me think of something interesting though. So, you'd think every race would have their own measurement system, right? Like how we have the Imperial measurement system and the normal one. Yet, they use the altean (or whatever it's called) one. It's likely that in the old days when the alliance still existed they had a universal measurement system. So, it only makes sense that the Galra Empire would impose the system on every planet they colonize. Which is why every species we see in the show uses it instead of something else.

The reason I'm bringing up the Galra influence at all is that I've developed this headcanon that is a sort of a workaround for the "All aliens speak English" trope. Because naturally you wouldn't understand another species due to the language barrier. I imagine Galra scientists would develop a translator chip for every prisoner, slave, citizen of a colonized planet etc. They'd implant those in others but make sure they configure it in a way that only translates Galra language. To make it impossible for prisoners/slaves of different species to communicate potentially leading to uprising.

To counter that I imagine rebel fighters repurpose it as international translators. With time they learn how to create some themselves. Which is how such a diverse group of people can understand each other. With N-7 being the exception because she's an AI and doesn't need one.

It's one idea I've come up with but admittedly it does contradict the canon lore. Because the trope of aliens speaking English is just there with no explanation. Still, I like my idea regardless.

Getting the actual timeline of the rebel fighters is difficult. There's no clear evidence to pinpoint the exact time the faction was created or even began to assemble. Rolo in S1 refers to them as the lucky few who haven't been enslaved yet. Signaling that they had a very minor presence in the galaxy. Or that Rolo was ignorant. Or lying. Hard to rely on his words. They've definitely existed before the Kerberos crew was captured. Moreover, Remdax and Vakala have been stationed on the Icy planet for 5 years and judging by the fact that their resources were soon to be depleted it wasn't their first year.

Rebels were likely formed after a long period of time starting out as small rebellion groups on planets conquered by the Galra Empire as it was expanding. With Galra officers taking prisoners across the galaxy an effort was made to communicate with other groups hence the diversity.

I like to imagine Unilu people would be exceptionally helpful for that considering they're one of the few races from the old days that still exist and thrive. They traversed the galaxy for many years and probably knew many languages. Which solves the problem of a language barrier. I'd say they're the second most populated race in this show.

One of them is actually a member of the rebel forces.

Remember this fella? Who never talked once in the series at all? Or ever been referred to? Well, I named them Gus. For no particular reason, I just look at them and go "Hmm, yes, this is Gus." VLD never named them so I have to do it myself. I HC them as agender and mute. They seem to make good use of the gestures, emotions and body language and considering we've never heard them speak this headcanon generated on its own. With 4 hands I imagine Unilu Sign Language to be very rich and extensive.

I like to think they were Matt's cellmate when he was a galra prisoner. In their spare time Gus was teaching Matt the unilu sign language so they could communicate somehow. And them being cellmated is partly why Matt was rescued by the rebels. Because Gus was already a rebel fighter and their goal was simply sabotaging the prisoner ship to set the stage for the rebels (Note: Matt was not with the rest of the prisoners from the Arena because he was sent to the working camps due to his injury).

Eventually Matt and Gus would become very good friends. Matt, being a fast learner, would learn Unilu Sign language and use the simplified version of it in case he ever needed to communicate with Gus without vocalizing anything.

As for less story important headcanons I like to imagine that Gus likes to draw with pastels and chalks. They're a little mischievous and generally optimistic which is why they it doesn't take a lot of time for them to get along with Matt. They have absolutely no regard for authority but loyal to those who prove themselves to be competent and fair. Which doesn't happen often. They are very expressive with facial expressions and body language.

For more references on Gus see this post.

That's as much as I've got on Gus so far. I like thinking of the kind of friendship that they would have with Matt. But let's move to another character important to Matt.

Te-Osh is a character that we see saving Matt from his prison cell and later get to meet her in Season 4 where she gives up her life to make sure she can deliver the medical supplies. It's implied that she was very close to Matt.

The term that was used to describe society on her home-planet is interesting. "Tribe" is an anthropological term that has long been assosiated with "savagery" and "primitiveness". There are a lot of harmful connotations related to this term which this article explains better than I could ever do. Besides all of that the term is simply confusing and barely represents what kind of society Kythra people have on their planet. I'm not sure if the writers were aware of all of this or if the "primitiveness" was the intended purpose. My best guess is that their society was still on the developing stage which the Galra Empire took advantage of and decided to interfere (just like certain countries did back in the days).

But let's move on.

Te-Osh gives me big mom vibes. I headcanon that she was a mother figure to Matt before he was transfered to a listening outpost. In my "lore" she's also a very competent fighter who's been training Matt and teaching him the survival tactics, and just taking care of him in general. Talking to him about complicated matters of war and making sure he's not going to do something stupid out of naivety and inexperience. She feels strongly about the rebellion which in combination with her somewhat short temper can result in lots of heated conversations with others. Especially with one sort of original character. But more on that later. She's an important memeber of her respective rebel cell being a local mom and all. I imagine her death took a big toll on many of her fellow officers and, of course, Matt. It's a little weird how they hinted her and Matt being close but we never see Matt's on screen reaction to learning of her passing. But oh well.

Wiki also mentions how she is a skilled pilot so there you have it.

And speaking of moms, it's about time I mention Captain Olia.

A member of the canine-like species and a competent rebel pilot. What is there not to love? She actually does have a backstory which you can read more about here.

Ha! Another confirmation that the rebellion didn't just start with the appearance of Voltron. Although, this still leaves some questions. Like, what were Olia and her husband doing exactly before starting a family? Humanitarian aid? Combat? Mechanic services? One of them has to be correct. My bets are on the mechanic services like fixing up ships and such. While Olia's duties could be transportation. Hence the flying skills.

Tbh this article did save me some mental energy. Because I don't have to think of everything myself. She was given a backstory via the Word of God and I'm more than thankful. But I'm still wondering if Omegaverse is considered a default for fictional works on her home planet.

Unfortunately, we haven't seen any proper interactions between her and Matt so it's harder to tell what kind of relationship they have but what we do know is that Matt does respect her authority. And that Olia cares about him enough to be present during his reunion with the family.

I believe it's safe to say their rebel party is a proper found family for Matt when he was separated from his biological one.

As a person Olia seems to be very laid-back and confident but not falling behind in profanity department lol

Her quick thinking during battle has saved the coalition more than once and it's a shame she had no speaking role in S8.

Being a mother she has an unique perspective on the rebellion. She understands more than anyone what it feels like having to leave your loved ones to fulfill your duty. And that understanding gives her sympathy towards those who do not want to join the fight against the Galra even if they can. Unlike Te-Osh, she is not concerned with ideals or bigger picture and prefers to stay focused on what she can do to contribute to the rebellion without losing touch with her family.

I think her and Matt met for the first time in S4 on Olkari after visiting the Castle of Lions. Making Matt a part of her crew and having Matt reunite with other rebels he knew from Kraydah Moon (but to be honest I doubt they've always been stationed there as it's more likely they've moved between different bases to remain hidden from the Galra Empire). Including his good buddy Gus, big man Ozar and N-7.

If you don't remember who Ozar is it's the big blue guy with a spiky hat. He also fucking died in S8 but the only part of S8 that exists is Hunk and Keith's carnival date so we're just gonna ignore that.

He seems to have the highest rank amongst the rebel fighters as evidenced by his commanding attitude. He is described to be the link between Voltron and the rebel fighters. He actually reminds me of the Miran race from DaiRugger/Vehicle Voltron (which we know are now canon to vld universe because of the epilogue) because of his blue skin and pointy ears. Now if only he lacked eyebrows...

There's not a lot of info on Ozar at all but because his VA also voiced Jake from Adventure Time my brain couldn't stop associating the two making them similar in personality. Except Ozar doesn't have ADHD.

I believe his age and experience gives him a lot of authority which most officers seem to respect. He would take the role of organizing important missions and managing diplomatic relations. Something Te-Osh usually stays away from because of the overall frustration that comes with it. Therefore, if you ever needed a permission to do something Ozar would be the guy to ask for it.

Ozar is pretty chill and likes to make jokes to brighten the mood during his off duty hours. And he wouldn't mind telling a story or two about his time with the rebellion. He keeps his chill even during the most extreme situations as he needs his cool head to command his squad in battle. Doesn't take risks he knows to be futile and would rather fail the mission than to lose more people to this war.

Of the relatives he has a granddaughter whom he keeps safe with the people he trusts because she lost her parents to the Galra Empire.

You can see him as the space grandpa.

He was asked to watch over N-7 by Mary Ann (the sort of OC I mentioned earlier).

Now, here's where I'm taking some liberty with the universe by creating a new race. Which are the descendants of the same race that Trigel was a member of. Because just like some Alteans managed to escape Zarkon's genocide it's not baseless to say that Trigel's people also managed to stay hidden from the Galra Empire and also further evolve into a race I'm about to introduce.

Caspians. They populated the planet Caspia. Over the years they've made some significant technological advancements which resulted in the destruction of the local environment. They've tried to take steps to reduce the effects before eventually leaving the planet. Still, many decided to stay and preserve what was left and continue their effort to restore the environment. Those who left eventually became who are now known as Olkarion people. Those who stayed focused on developing terraforming technologies and preserving their last bits of the lost culture.

One person in particular grew up to become a robot science genius. That being a woman named Mary Ann. She was originally a DotU II character which is why I wouldn't call her a fully original character. She appears in the episode "Take a Robot to Lunch" and gives the paladins a new perspective on war. She is a stubborn pacifist who has strong opinions about war and violence. Mary Ann used to contribute to the war effort by building robots until her creations began to be used as a weapon against innocent people. Which cemented her decision to leave and give up science for good. She scolds the paladins for how they just use more violence to solve problems but learns that combat is not all they do by the end of the episode. That's a quick summary of her character in DotU.

I decided to incorporate her into vld universe because she interested me. And because if someone created N-7 it had to be her.

In my lore Caspians had little to no interactions with the Galra Empire due to their beneficial location away from the Empire's grasp. Mary Ann, being a promising robot scientist, decided to leave the planet to pursue her curiosity about the galaxy and find resources which she can use to build even better machines. That way she ends up learning about the state of the galaxy and joining the rebel fighters providing them with technologies to help the war effort. It's how she eventually meets Te-Osh and Ozar. As a side project she begins the development of a software to help with automation of certain tedious tasks and data analysis. It's later being used to help analyze the radio chatter and collect all the necessary data. For convenience she would later develop a proper user interface which laid down roots for the development of an AI in the image of her people who was meant to develop their own identity. This is N-7 (get it? Ann seven?). It ended up being something personal to Mary Ann while she began to notice how her creations are being used to cause more harm than good. For example when the Galra troops steal devices of her design and repurpose it into weapons of destruction. And if that wasn't enough her own allies would use the same devices to cause destruction in the name of justice and goodness. Mary Ann would develop distaste for the methods her allies used to achieve their goals which put her at odds with Te-Osh. Because for Te-Osh not fighting back meant allowing the oppression to happen. So, when you put two headstrong individuals with opposing values against each other it rarely results in anything good. Mary Ann wouldn't put up with being used like that and decided to leave the rebellion. N-7, now learning more about the world around her, refused to come with because she "felt" the responsibility to stay and help as that was the whole reason she was created in the first place. Understanding of the decision Mary Ann parted ways with her "daughter".

I wanted Mary Ann and Te-Osh to develop a strong and close relationship (a romantic one maybe?) before Mary Ann's departure. To make things more frustrating for both of them when they eventually come to a point where their beliefs can no longer coexist without causing any more drama and conflicts (their beliefs CAN coexist but by this point they're too stubborn to realize it).

I also decided to use her character to explain Matt's behavior in S05E01 when he found something or someone in a prison cell which made him late AND extremely pissed off. So, imagine after leaving the rebellion she gets captured by the Galra and put into Lotor's prison for scientists (a plot from the DotU episode where Haggar tried to capture Marry Ann to make her build robots for their army). I don't see her willingly doing anything for the Galra so instead she would try to sabotage the research admittedly making it worse for every other prisoner because they have to receive punishment because of something she did. So, you can say no one likes her.

And here comes Matt. My poor son just trying to rescue his father. Opening up the last cell in the facility. His last hope. Only to find an unfriendly woman who not only refuses Matt's rescue attempts but scolds him when she recognizes the uniform he's wearing. Matt being late could be explained as him simply arguing with Mary Ann who refuses to go with him. And his unexplained uncharacteristic anger could be the result of the argument that took place where she openly expresses her distaste for his new found family and maybe even name-drops Matt's deceased mother figure (albeit unaware of her status). And here we go! It ties to Matt's own off-screen story and provides a possible explanation for what the hell did he see in that stupid cell.

So, Matt leaves her to fend for herself and they separate. And Matt is understandably pissed but refrains from talking about it because it’s of no one’s concern. But Mary Ann’s story doesn’t end here. Because I was planning to bring her back later after Voltron disappears and the timeline enters its 3 years time skip period. To have her apologize to Matt for what she said and realize she may have been wrong about the rebel fighters after all. And to have a proper reunion with N-7 who has developed beyond Mary Ann’s imaginations. She joins the coalition to help out her own way not with violence but with means of protection.

And that’s pretty much it for her.

And now we get to a character, whom I admittedly thought about more than others. Welp, not my fault I’m so into robot/AI characters.

It's a rebel fighter who was theorized to be Romelle, Keith’s mom, a druid and even Merla? All of which turned out to be wrong. Because she’s just an AI and not really as important as we thought she would be. As with Olia, this character has some off-screen explanation by the Word of God and can you see more in this article.

It's something, but it's merely a confirmation that she was an AI and that what we saw of Matt and her in S7 and S8 wasn’t just us hallucinating. The rest is for us to think of.

So, as mentioned above she's an AI developed by Mary Ann who over the course of the development started to consider N-7 her daughter. N-7 is constantly learning new things about the world as she's getting more hardware upgrades thanks to all new resources Mary Ann was able to get her hands on. To properly articulate her thoughts N-7 would also learn to use body language (often by mimicking Mary Ann, Te-Osh and Ozar to some extent, eventually developing her own system).

Her early work for the rebels mostly consists of data analysis and assisting comm specialists, but would later extend to supply/vehicle/inventory management and some occasional medical assistance whenever a doctor needed additional help. She would also pick up combat as having self-defense skills is important for any rebel officer. Most importantly, sometime after Mary Ann's departure N-7 would provide her assistance for the radio listening team. Because she was able to make the job easier there was no longer a need for a team of people on that job. It wasn't taken positively because all it meant was that those who were left without a job likely had to join the offensive forces which most couldn't do due to their physical or otherwise psychological limitations. This in turn would lead to the development of a system of listening outposts that N-7 could operate. Keeping track of every agent, their designated location and information recorded in their respective area. The more complicated the system was getting the more operators were required. Especially with how fast the coalition would grow in s4. So, eventually the system wouldn't need N-7 as the head operator anymore allowing her to join Olia's crew.

I still can't quite figure out what her role is in Olia's ship but I'm assuming it's something like keeping the ship in tact and making sure all systems are taken care of. I do like to think her contribution to the rebellion begins to take more proactive turn after joining Olia. Like taking part in ground missions and such. Which also opens her to new connections and perspectives.

As for determining her personality it's a little tricky. Because it always downs on me that I'm just creating another EDI (why must one fictional AI lady be so good) whenever I approach the subject of AI characters. But here I go.

She's cold and rational as you would expect. And can get into trouble with other people because of her acting out of logic and what makes sense while that isn't necessarily something that someone needs or wants. So you can get the occasional breaking of boundaries. But she also tries to understand human (or alien) psychology to make sense of the interactions happening around her (well I guess we do be entering the autistic thinking territory). It's how she understands that Matt openly freaking out the first time they meet is not a sign of a personal attack but simply his post traumatic brain acting up when he's faced with someone who reminds him of the Galra droids. Her speech patterns are descriptive and straight to the point and her body language is pretty nonchalant and distinguished. N-7 may be an AI, but she does "feel" things in her own way. Through a complicated system of priorities and signals meant to recreate chemicals in our brains. And while it's not something organics can truly relate to is it fair to deem her perceptions less "real" than that of organics? And it's that way she evaluates her viewpoint of the rebellion and decides that she has the responsibility to help people because she can and because her abilities can save lives in the long run. It simply makes sense for her to stay and help.

I will conclude the first part here, but I hope all of that wasn't a bit too much to deal with (;ŏ﹏ŏ) especially with how abrupt the ending is...

[Second part]

#vld #voltron #rebel fighter #freedom fighters #voltron coalition #te-osh #unilu rebel #olia voltron #n-7 #ozar voltron #fuckduckfuckficlctiock #matt holt #long post #mary ann dotu

[panda-noosh]

Poor Little King {BotF Mini-Fic}

Words: 3.4k 

Summary: Takashi is ill, and you are determined to keep him in bed - meaning you have to take on the jobs he usually does himself. 

Genre: Fluff 

Notes: masterlist - well hello there everyone. 

+++

    Takashi groaned, rolling over as he attempted to bury his head in your skirts.

    Once again, you were forced to push the poor king away, folding your arms over your chest; you had work to get done. You had merely dropped by to check up on your ill husband before you were due to head out and, once again, get back to work with helping Coran sort through the trading agreements.

     Nonetheless, you couldn’t help but deny the slight flicker of disappointment that came with the realisation that you would have to leave Takashi like this. It had only been a few days since he had come down with the flu, and yet it was ripping him apart by the looks of things.

    “How are you feeling?” you asked, winding your fingers through his in your attempts to stop him grabbing onto your skirts again.

    He grunted into the pillow, answer enough for the question you had asked.

    “Oh, Takashi,” you tutted. “I wish I could do something to help.”

   “You can stay with me,” he suggested, voice muffled by the fabric covering his face.

    You smiled sadly, reaching down and gently running your fingers through his shock of black hair. A low grumble rumbled up from his chest at the sensation of your fingers brushing deep into his scalp, and you had to bite your lower lip to stop yourself from giggling.

    “I’m afraid I can’t,” you replied. Takashi frowned, finally turning his head to meet your eyes. “You’re ill. Takashi, but there’s still a kingdom to look after. Plus two children that need attention all the time.”

    “Coran and Esmay are fine,” he said. “I, on the other hand, am far from it. Which is why my lovely wife should-”

    “Oh, stop trying to charm me.” You swatted his back, to which he groaned and went back to burying his head in the pillow. “I’ll be back later on to make sure you’ve eaten, okay? You just stay bundled up and rest.”

    “I don’t sleep well without you beside me.”

    “You don’t have to sleep. Complete a crossword puzzle or something.”

    “Honestly, with how little you know of me, it’s amazing that we’ve been married for nearly six years.”

    You grinned, leaned down and pressed a gentle but risky kiss to the space just below his ear. He grumbled at the sensation, turned his head just enough so you could see the small and grateful smile that he had put on specifically for you.

    You smiled back, and with a heavy heart, span on your heel and exited the bedroom.

     You hated seeing him that way, so defenceless and weak. The illness had stemmed from a trip to Voltron he had taken with Coran Jr only a few days prior; apparently a bug had been going around during his trip, and it was only by the good grace of the Lions that Coran Jr hadn’t gotten the illness; it had instead went straight to Takashi.

    He had come home to you and Esmay Jr a few days later, sniffling, bones aching, barely able to hold himself upright. You had ordered him to bed almost immediately, despite his protestations and his insistence that he was fine. Anybody with two eyes and a bit of common sense could see that he was far from it, though.

    However, now that Takashi was bundled up in bed for the next few days, you had the added task of actually being Queen for a little while - a task which you did not see yourself being thrown into. Though you had legally been queen for a very long time now, the duties that came with the job were very rarely actually given to you - Takashi was aware that he had thrown you into the role of queen purely against your will, that you had absolutely zero knowledge of what it was like to run a kingdom. He had been nice enough to take the burden of royal life off of your shoulders, instead trying to make you as comfortable as possible.

    You were confident that you would be able to figure it all out in the end, though.

    You wandered into the office with your shoulders pulled back and chin held high; anything to radiate a confidence that you did not have. Coran Senior looked up when you entered, raised a ginger eyebrow as a smile of amusement pulled across his features; having been closer to you than a brother for the majority of your life, Coran could certainly tell when you were faking your emotions.

    You frowned at him.

    “Takashi hasn’t dropped dead yet, has he?” Coran asked, ignoring your faux confidence for now. You had no doubt in your mind that he would tease you for it later on.

    You sauntered up to his side and started shuffling through the trade contracts littering the table top. “Nope. He’s still kicking.” 

    “Kicking is a strong word,” said Coran. “Whenever I went to check on him, he was more rolling than anything else.”

    You hollowed your your cheeks, shaking your head slowly  “He doesn’t look like he’s getting any better.”

    “Because he isn’t letting himself get any better,” Coran pointed out, tossing a piece of paper onto your pile for later inspection. “He just complains all day and then goes to sleep. He isn’t even drinking the orange juice that Esmay told him to drink.”

    “He doesn’t like orange juice.”

    “Lions, my heart breaks for him.” Coran shot you a blank look. “I bet he likes having the flu even less.”

    “Well, yes, but-”

   “We’ve all got to make sacrifices. Honestly, the man is as stubborn as his father was.”

    You snorted, shaking your head despite your agreement to the statement. Akihiro had been a vile man, but he was still Takashi’s father at the end of the day - you would be a fool to claim that Takashi had gained absolutely nothing from his fathers side of the family - and the stubbornness was definitely that attribute.

    You and Coran continued working later than you had originally expected. Hunk had come in and asked if either of you wanted any food, but his offer was politely declined as the two of you got lost in a mountain of contracts that had long since started to jumble into one huge heap on the edge of the table; Takashi would have an aneurysm if he were to see the state the two of you had left it, him so tedious with his organisation.

    It was getting dark by the time Coran finally looked up and yawned. He glanced towards the clock in the corner, and his eyes immediately widened.

    “Oh, Lions!” he hissed. You started, hand clenching around the piece of paper in your hand with the suddenness of his exclamation.

    “What? What is it?” you demanded. He was bolt upright now, his papers thrown left right and centre as he struggled to remove his coat from the back of the chair he had previously been seated upon.

    He darted his eyes towards you. “I promised Thace I’d be home by dinner time.”

    You glanced at the clock; dinner time had long since passed.

    “Oh, right,” you said, calming down now that you were assured nothing was really wrong. “Well, get yourself off then. I’ll stay in here for a little bit longer.”

    Coran paused, his coat half on his body. You looked up at him, giving him what you hoped was a reassuring smile; you still had a fair bit to get done, and you weren’t prepared to leave it all until the morning. You had promised Takashi that you would have everything under control whilst he took his bed rest, and you were determined to keep that promise.

    “Y/N,” Coran said gruffly. “It’s nearly ten o clock at night. You need to go to bed and check on your husband.”

   You waved a dismissive hand. “He’s fine. He’s either reading to Coran and Esmay right now, or he’s asleep. Either way, I’m perfectly fine staying in here for another few hours.”

    It was clear in his hesitation that he was not fully prepared to leave you here on your own, but he had a husband to get home to, a family that you were well aware would always have his attention first and foremost.

    Once again, you waved a dismissive hand. “I promise you, Coran, I’ll get some sleep later on. I just want to finish a bit more of this and then I’ll go to bed.”

    Although he did not believe you, he left the room nonetheless. After giving you a comforting peck on the cheek and a final warning glare, he sauntered off and disappeared for the night, leaving you to your own devices.

    You would be lying to claim you weren’t exhausted. You had been up at six am that same morning, seeing to Esmay who had decided to climb up the bed sheets to check on her father, bright and early. She had recently turned two, and the phrase Terrible Two’s was really being proven in the way she refused to sit still now that her legs were strong enough to hold her up, now that she had finally figured out that she could indeed stand up and scatter anywhere she wanted to.

     But you refused to leave just yet; the work would be finished at the end of the night, and then you could curl up next to your ill husband and get some well-needed rest. But until then, you had duties to see to and a kingdom to care for.

    All on your own.

    +++

    You weren’t entirely sure what time it was. In all honesty, you weren’t even sure who was awake anymore. The inhabitants outside of the office had long since gone quiet; you could no longer hear the scuttling of maids outside the door, the happy humming of the cooks as they packed up the kitchen for the night. The outside world had seemingly gone silent, though you couldn’t quite complain. It gave you more room to concentrate on the very, very tedious task of filing away the trade agreements you had just read through.

    They were stacked in their hundreds, surrounding you in messy heaps on the desk. You had to read through each of them, label them with what kingdom they had come from, and then file them away into their appropriate place. 

     You couldn’t quite understand how Takashi had done this so quickly in the past.

    You grunted, slumping against the desk once and for all. Your vision was starting to go a little blurry, and you could barely keep your head up, let alone stand to read the papers around you. You closed your eyes for only a minute, allowing yourself that moment of solice until you would force yourself to get back to it and finish the job you had been assigned. If Takashi could do it-

    “Mummy?”

    Your eyes snapped open, motherly instinct immediately driving the exhaustion from your body. You hastily stood up, peeked your head over the desk towards the door where tiny little Esmay popped her own head of large black curls round the doorway.

    Your heart immediately lightened at the sight of her, and you couldn’t stop the smile forming on your face.

    “I’m here, sweetheart. Are you okay?”

    She slowly crept in, still teetering slightly but managing to close the door and clamber towards you nonetheless. You sat back down on the seat behind you, held your arms out just in time to catch her and scoop her up onto your knee. There, she nuzzled her head into your neck and started sucking deftly on her thumb.

    “Are you alright, Esmay?” you repeated softly.

   “Daddy’s ill,” she replied.

    You stiffened. “Yes, he is. Have you seen him today?”

    She shook her head. “Uncle Thace said me and Coran would get sick if we went and saw him, so we’ve stayed away. But I miss him, Mummy. I miss you, too.” She looked up then, grey eyes so like her fathers. “You look tired, Mummy.”

   You pursed your lips; coming from any other person, and perhaps you would have grown hostile. But Esmay was definitely telling the truth, and you knew that much simply from the drag your body was currently experiencing.

    You reached up and awkwardly patted down your hair, which was growing frazzled with the growing heat in the room.

    “So do you, baby,” you replied. “It’s late, you know. You shouldn’t be out of bed at this time.”

    “But you’re out of bed,” she shot back.

    You chuckled. “Well, i can’t argue with that. But you’re much younger than I am, which means you need all the rest you can get.” Slowly, you set her back down on the floor. She teetered on her heels, giggled when she finally caught her balance. “You go off to bed and I’ll come down and see you later on to make sure you’re asleep, okay? I’ll be in here if you need me - tell your brother that, as well.”

   Esmay nodded vigorously, overjoyed with the idea of having a task to fulfill. You watched as she darted towards the door, flung it open and fled the room, yelling out her brothers name as she did so. You chuckled, closed the door behind her and got back to your work.

    The productivity did not last for long, however, before the door was creaking open yet again. You sat still, waiting for the telltale name of “Mummy?” being called out into the darkness, but it didn’t come. 

    You frowned, glanced over the stack of papers - you didn’t need to stand up to see who was standing in the doorway, though. Not whenever he towered over the desk, leaning against the door frame with a frown pulling on his face.

    Your eyes widened and you hastily stood up. “Takashi! What are you doing out of bed?”

    “I could be asking you the same thing,” he replied, kicking the door quietly closed behind him. “It’s nearly one in the morning, my love. You should be in bed.”

    “So should you,” you hissed, completely hysterical that your ill husband had decided to risk his health, yet again, to come and check on you. “Oh, Takashi, what are you doing? How are you ever going to get better if you refuse to rest?”

    He raised a brow down at you when you finally managed to clamber over the array of files littered beside the desk. You grabbed onto his arm, attempted to pull him towards the door, but he was much stronger than you and the attempt was fruitless at the end of the day.

    You sighed in defeat, slumping against the wall and glaring at him through your eyelids. “You are a pain in the backside.”

    He didn’t grin like he usually did, but merely continued frowning. “Esmay came in and told me that you were still working in the office. She even added on that Mummy looked particularly tired.”

    You pursed your lips. “Well, you know how two year olds get. Exaggerating everything and -”

    “She most definitely was not exaggerating.” Takashi reached an arm out, inviting you into his embrace. Part of you wanted to pull away, to walk back to your seat and get stuck in the paperwork again - you had so little left to do. Another few hours would see you finished.

    But when it was a matter involving Takashi, you found yourself unable to resist. And so, you stepped forward and hugged him round the middle, him wrapping his arm around your back and gently rubbing his fingertips along your spine in that way that always managed to send shivers coursing through your entire body.

    “You don’t have to get all of this done in a day, you know,” he mumbled, lips pressing into your hair. 

    You cuddled closer to his warmth, inhaling the scent of cough medicine which was strongly radiating off of him right now. “I want to. Then you don’t have to do it later on.”

    He chuckled, the noise vibrating in his chest. “You do realise that it’s my job, don’t you? I’ve been doing it for a good number of years by now.” 

   “But you’re ill, and I-”

   “And I’m extremely grateful for your help, but I’d much rather have a wife who is well rested and healthy than a free schedule.” He pulled away then, keeping one arm on the small of your back as if afraid you would scatter back behind the desk if he let go.

    You looked up into his grey eyes, a slight pout on your face; you were disappointed. You had wanted to get things finished for him, to clear his schedule so he could rest up without worrying about the tasks awaiting for him when he was finally at full health again. Even looking at him now, his grey eyes were sunken with illness and his skin was pale, his black hair sticking up from where he had laid funny on the pillows; he didn’t look like himself. 

      “I know I say this all the time,” he whispered suddenly. “But I truly am confused as to how I got so lucky with finding you. And then finding you again.”

    You closed your eyes, laughing breathily at the memories of your and Takashi’s extremely wild love story - how you had gone through a forbidden romance for a while, before you were exiled from the very country you now ruled over. You had broken the law to come and see Takashi be crowned king, only for him to find you and wed you then and there.

     “I think I’m the lucky one,” you replied. “I could have easily been imprisoned on the day of your coronation.”

    He scoffed. “You think I’d allow that to happen?”

    “I don’t think the kingdom would have given you much choice.”

   He shook his head slowly, continuing to stare down at you as if you were the stars and the moon and he was holding you in his hands so tight and safe. You felt safe, tucked up against him despite the heaving of his chest and the slight rattle to his breathing, the stuffiness in his voice.  

     He sighed and leaned forward, pressing dry lips to your forehead. “I don’t want to get you sick. Just come to bed so I don’t have to drag you there myself.”

    You closed your eyes, leaning your head on his chest. “I only have a few more-”

    “Are you going to make me drag you?”

    “Takashi, if you-”

    “Well, if you insist on being stubborn.”

    Your eyes snapped open, panic darting through your system as Takashi immediately swept his hand by your knees and scooped you up bridal style. He grunted with the effort, his weakened body straining, but he still managed to pull the door open and start down the hallways towards your bedroom.

    If it weren’t for the sleeping children in the other room, you would have been making a fuss. Instead, you had no choice but to wrap your arms around Takashi’s neck, whispering curse words in his ears that did nothing but make him grin and chuckle.

    He kicked open the door to your shared bedroom and set you down upon the double bed, kicking the door closed again behind him. You landed on the mattress and continued to glare up at him as he made his way towards the bed again, undoing the top buttons of his night shirt as he did so.

    “See, that’s better, isn’t it? You can get comfortable now, if you like.”

    You shook your head slowly. “Once again-”

    “You are a pain in the backside,” he quoted, raising his voice in mock impersonation of you. He grinned at your glare, tossing himself onto the bed and wrapping his arms around your middle. “Truth be told, my love - I also just can’t sleep without you beside me, and I’m getting very tired.”

     You grunted, trying to squirm away from him. Despite his illness, he managed to hold onto you until you finally gave up and slumped back against the pillows. He hummed in approval, laying his head on your stomach and nuzzling his nose into the fabric of your shirt.

    “Much better,” he whispered. “I might just be revived back to full health after tonight.”

#voltron #vld #voltron fanfic #voltron fic #vld fanfic #vld fic #takashi shirogane #shiro voltron #shiro vld #shiro fic #shiro fanfic #shiro vld fanfic #shiro vld fic #shiro voltron fanfic #shiro voltron fic #keith kogane #keith voltron #shiro x reader #shiro vld x reader #shiro voltron x reader #lance mcclain #lance voltron #pidge gunderson #pidge voltron #hunk garrett #hunk voltron

[writingwithcolor]

B’nei mitzvah in spaceship without Jewish community | Jewish character celebrating Christmas

Hi! Thank you so much for running this blog. I appreciate how much time and effort all the mods have put into it. I finished reading through the whole Jewish tag a few days ago, and I’ve learned so much! I’m writing a Voltron fic (I *know* lol) and decided to make one of the protagonists a white nonbinary Ashkenazi Reform Jewish girl. Her astronaut brother mysteriously disappears in space and is presumed dead, so she runs away from home a couple of months before her b'nei mitzvah to find him. Now, she’s in a group of rebels in space fighting against an Empire. I have two concerns:

1. Everyone on the ship misses home, so part of the way they cope is through getting in touch with their cultures. They’re gonna celebrate (a mostly non-Americanized) Christmas because it matters a lot to some of the characters for non-religious reasons. To what extent can my Jewish character participate in the celebration without it being weird? I want her to enjoy herself more because she’s with her friends than because Jesus etc. They’ll also celebrate Chanukah, if that helps. I know Chanukah isn’t a major holiday, so I also want to have her celebrate a more significant one like Rosh Hashanah and/or Purim with them. Is it okay for gentiles to participate in those holiday celebrations, or should she do that alone?

2. Throughout most of the story, she’ll struggle with choosing whether to prioritize fighting the Empire or finding her brother and bringing him home. When she eventually does find her brother (who also turns out to be a rebel), he lets her decide whether they stay or go home. I thought it would be nice if she decided to stay and keep fighting for the greater good after she finally has her b'nei mitzvah. Her friends and other experiences are also a big part of why she decides to stay, but the b'nei mitzvah would be what gives her the final push she needs to decide. I don’t know if it would be okay for me to write the ceremony itself or if she can even have one if only two of the eight people on the ship are Jewish. I read that not everyone has a b'nei mitzvah and that it’s not required, but I feel like it’d be a big deal to her character. Should I keep the b'nei mitzvah idea, or am I heading towards appropriative territory here?

I want to make her Jewishness a big part of her character’s growth, and I really want to make sure I do it respectfully and accurately. I plan on finding a sensitivity reader when I’ve made more progress with actually writing everything out. Thank you for any insight you might offer!

It feels off to me to join a community symbolically when you’re far away FROM the community. Why not just have had her already have done the ceremony before she has all these adventures? That way it could just be a straightforward story about a Jewish teen having exciting heroic adventures in space, rather than a story about what happens when you have to miss aspects of Jewish life because you’re in space. It would also make the “….well, I guess I’m around for Christmas” bit less weighted because then that would be the only one of those instead of having two of those.

–Shira 

I’ll cover some other territory here. For those who don’t know, b'nei mitzvah is something you just automatically become at the correct age, the ceremony is simply to celebrate that with the community. Not all people have the ceremony, but if you are Jewish, and of age (for religious purposes), your status changes with or without it. Personally, I’m comfortable with showing a Jewish character finding a way to have a Jewish celebration when the circumstances are less than ideal, for me the other aspects of the story are more troubling. 

On the subject of having a Jewish character celebrate Christmas with their friends… look I don’t like this trope. There are many Jewish people, who are completely secular, who don’t celebrate Christmas, because it is explicitly a Christian holiday, and secular Jewish people are still Jewish. Some Jewish people (secular or otherwise) do choose to celebrate other holidays, and I am very comfortable with those folks telling their own stories. What I’m not happy with is the push from outside of the community for every Jewish character to slide into assimilation. 

Some Jewish people will go to Christmas parties and not eat the food, because they keep kosher, or won’t stay for a tree-lighting, because that feels like it goes too far, or will give presents but not receive them. There are a huge number of ways we might handle Christmas, and I appreciate that you plan to show holidays other than just Chanukah (and yes, it’s fine for non-Jewish characters to join her in her holidays, if she invites them), but I always question why a non-Jewish writer is so keen to show Jewish characters celebrating Christmas. The most generous version of me wants to assume that you get so much out of Christmas that you want to share it, but the part of me that knows about the pressures to assimilate, and the history of increased antisemitic violence around Christmas thinks… just leave this kid alone. She missed her celebration, she’s far from her community, and now she has to go put on a Happy Assimilated Smile for the culturally Christian folks around her. From a nonbinary Jewish perspective, it’s a little unusual for your nonbinary character to use she/her pronouns, and use b'nei mitzvah as a gender neutral alternative to the gendered bat mitzvah. In secular life, at least in the US, it’s not uncommon for people to use multiple pronouns, but I haven’t met, or even heard of, a single person using gendered pronouns secularly, and using new neutral alternatives religiously. It absolutely could happen but, because it is so unusual, to me it reads as either invalidating the character’s gender, or tokenizing her in the religious sphere. 

–Dierdra 

Shira, I think that’s a really good idea to make the character post-b'nei mitzvah. That way you just have a Jewish character having adventures rather than her culture being The Conflict. (And also, a pre-b'nei mitzvah seems a bit young for this storyline? Can she really consent to fighting alongside the rebels? Do they habitually take unaccompanied children on their ship? To me a teenager would make more sense, but hey it’s not my story!)

Dierdra, your answer regarding the Christmas aspect was awesome and really thorough. Thanks for your thoughts on the pronouns as well, it also jarred with me but I was waiting to hear your opinion as you have lived experience. My worry is if you use gender neutral terms for one but not the other, you risk falling into to the stereotype that only marginalised religious folks have to change our language etc to be inclusive to LGBTQ+ people, but everyone else is fine. 

I wanted to come back to the point about Rosh Hashana. First of all, thank you for acknowledging that we have holidays that are more important than Chanukah! Sooo many OP’s don’t know that. In terms of how she would celebrate it, I agree it’s fine to invite non-Jewish people along. However, given how community-based Jewish life is, making her keep Yom Tov on her own feels a bit like a torture story, especially when others have people to celebrate Christmas with. I wonder if you’ve thought about giving her a Jewish friend on the ship? Especially if you want her Jewishness to be part of her growth as you mentioned, an older Jewish friend and mentor could be a huge help :)

–Shoshi

As you can see, we have a wide range of possibilities for “what happens when you ask a Jewish person about celebrating Christmas.” I didn’t mind hanging around it as an outsider myself until a certain subset of Christians started being mean-spirited about it in the news plus some personal trauma that time of year, as long as everyone involved was clear that I was just participating from the outside and this didn’t somehow change me. (If I may make an analogy: compare it to going to a baby shower when you want to support your friend or family member but also really don’t want kids of your own. You’re going to have a whole different experience if your decision is respected vs. if all the other guests treat you like you being there means you’ll change your mind about not wanting kids.)

That being said, it’s still all over the map. Some people IRL are okay even going to mass with their partner’s Catholic family (without participating in communion obvs.) Some would never, ever do that and are sitting here with shocked faces that I even typed that. But what becomes important is the way it’s written. Sitting around listening to the Christmas story is probably a bad fit for your fanfic, but helping other people bake Christmas cookies or put ornaments on a tree could work. The ornament thing could remind her of decorating a sukkah, and she could point that out to the others. 

I guess I’m saying is 

keep her participation secular, and 

keep her participation from leaning into the idea that we’re unhappy with our customs and would prefer to do it their way. 

I have literally never in my life felt jealous of the kids who “got to do Santa” (for example) and while I’m sure some kids were and they’re valid too, I think it’s important to show that it’s not a universal phenomenon.

–Shira

#jewish #non binary #B’nei mitzvah #holidays #Christmas #Jewish Holidays #submission

[violethowler]

False Perception: An Analysis of Lance’s Character Arc

When I first started watching Voltron: Legendary Defender in the Fall of 2016, the fact that it was made by some of the same people who worked on Avatar: The Last Airbender was one of the main things that appealed to me. All I knew about the franchise consisted of a throwaway line from Ready Player One and a one-off gag in Deadpool. While I quickly came to love the show for what it was, that familiar blend of drama, action, and comedy that I loved from Avatar played a big part in drawing me into the story. 

But while there are some clear similarities and references, it definitely feels like some people have gotten so caught up in the Avatar comparisons that only a few ever acknowledge Voltron as its own thing anymore. Because so much of the criticism I see with Voltron can be distilled to “it didn’t do [blank] the exact same way that Avatar did.” 

Yes, a large portion of the production staff worked on Avatar and Legend of Korra. That’s going to have some influence on character design and writing. But still, those influences are just that. Influences. They did not just copy the same plotlines, themes, and characters from Avatar and put them in space. Even without taking into account that it’s a reboot of a decades-old franchise, Voltron: Legendary Defender is still its own show. 

It is not the same story as Avatar. It does not tackle the same themes. And any themes it does have in common are not handled in the exact same way that Avatar handled them. Most importantly, the characters of Voltron do not follow the same character arcs as the Avatar characters fans compare them to, nor should they be expected to. 

Yes, this is about the “Lance is Space!Sokka” comparisons I’ve been seeing on tumblr for the last four years. I won’t deny that there aren’t similarities between them, but I’m sick and tired of seeing people use the VLD writers not copying and pasting Sokka’s arc into Voltron as an example of “bad writing.” 

I get it. Both of them are wisecracking teenage boys who serve as the resident goofball of their team yet will also buckle down and get serious when the situation calls for it. And both of them start out with sexist attitudes that they grow out of over time. 

But just because Lance and Sokka are written in similar traits does not mean that Lance’s arc was ever intended to be a beat for beat retread of Sokka’s, and it’s time the fandom as a whole acknowledged this. 

I could go on for ages about how many different criticisms of Voltron I’ve seen that ultimately boil down to “it’s not an exact recreation of Avatar.” But for today, I’m going to focus on breaking down the specific trajectory and themes of Lance’s character arc across the entire series.  

The first episode establishes that Lance considers himself rivals with Keith, who Iverson specifically said was the best pilot in their class. When Allura explains the traits associated with the lions, he interrupts to suggest that the Blue Lion “takes the most handsome-slash-best pilot of the bunch?” Then in S1E10 Collection and Extraction, he suggests challenging Zarkon to a fight after learning the Galra Emperor’s weaknesses depicts, saying “winner gets the universe.” This is accompanied by an image of Lance standing triumphantly on top of Zarkon’s dead body in front of a flag with Lance’s face and the word “winner” on it. The image includes Allura looking adoringly up at Lance while the rest of the Paladins all give him thumbs up. 

Right from the start, Season 1 does a fantastic job setting up Lance’s ego. He’s constantly trying to hype himself up as The Best. The CoolTM one. When Keith criticizes his offscreen kicking of broken ship parts after the team has practiced forming Voltron at the beginning of S1E03 Return of the Gladiator, Lance responds “I did something cool and you can’t handle it.” When Keith points out that Lance’s kick ruined Voltron’s balance and caused the robot to fall over, Lance deflects the blame to Hunk. When he tries to kick Myzax’s orb, he tells Keith to “stop living in the past'' when the Red Paladin reminds him of the earlier fall. His kick misses the orb entirely and results in Voltron getting bashed in the face.

The failed kick during the fight with Myzax serves to set up a pattern that continues over the first two seasons: Lance attempts to make himself look good by performing something he does not have successful experience with, only for his self-aggrandising to screw things up for the team. In S2E04 Greening the Cube, he pushes Hunk out of the way and starts randomly pushing buttons in the middle of the Paladins doing maintenance on the exterior of the Castle of Lions, causing critical problems that Pidge has to quickly fix. 

S2E10 Escape from Beta Traz and onward give audiences a peek behind the mask to show that Lance’s bragging and glory seeking is driven by deep-seated feelings of inadequacy. He wants so badly to be SpecialTM and make himself stand out as someone unique and important because he doesn’t believe he’s enough on his own. When the Blue Lion shuts him out in S3E02 Red Paladin he quickly concludes that he must not be meant to be a Paladin at all. When he confesses to the mice in S6E02 Razor’s Edge that he’s in love with Allura he says he can’t compete with Lotor because he’s “just a boy from Cuba” and that he doesn’t have anything to offer in a relationship.

The personas that Lance tries so hard to present himself as - the peerless Special One who single-handedly saves the day and the suave ladies man - are common tropes associated with the protagonists of many science fiction stories. Particularly those with teen and young adult protagonists. Considering that S4E03 Black Site shows Lance as a video game fan and the Paladins were all attending a school for space exploration, it makes sense that he would consciously or not emulate the protagonists of his favorite stories in order to gain acceptance. 

But his attempts to seize the limelight end up having the opposite effect. After moments like his attempts to fix the castle in S2E04, the team is understandably skeptical whenever Lance tries to offer a solution to a problem. They’re doubtful when he refers to himself as a sharpshooter in S2E10 Escape from Beta Traz because while the mice and Allura know that Lance has been practicing with his bayard alone - which we see in S5E03 Postmortem - the rest of the team has just seen Lance’s glory chasing. So they’re surprised when he’s able to keep track of their position relative to the lions while being chased by Zethrid in S8E05 The Grudge. 

Prior to WEP’s meddling in the final season, Lance’s arc was set up for him to learn the lesson that he does not have to be a genius or a prodigy in order to be valued as a person. That he doesn’t have to be the Super Special Awesome ProtagonistTM in order to be a hero. The reason his arc was so heavily affected by the executive meddling of Season 8 was because his romantic relationships were heavily intertwined with the themes of that arc, and since the edits were heavily focused around Allura and Lotor, Lance’s love life suffered as a consequence. 

Over the course of Seasons 1-7, Lance is shown constantly hitting on every beautiful woman he meets. But his romantic pursuits are ultimately shallow. This is best demonstrated in S2E02 The Depths when he recoils after Plaxum kisses him while wearing a bloated jellyfish and ragged cloak, but does a 180 and starts drooling in awe when she takes those off to reveal that her true appearance is much closer to 21st Century American human beauty standards. Even after pouring out his feelings for Allura to the mice in S6E02 Razor’s Edge, he displays no reluctance or inner conflict when he organizes the travel arrangements for the clear purpose of getting to spend time alone with Romelle.

This serves to demonstrate that while he says he loves Allura, his actions show he’s more in love with the fantasy of her and what she represents than he is with her as a person. His flirting with every conventionally attractive female character and his desire to find “the future Mrs. Blue Lion” as he puts it in S2E02 The Depths ties back to his desire for acceptance by emulating your standard sci-fi protagonists because when you look at all the ladies he’s expressed interest in, they all have one thing in common. Each of them fits into common archetypes for female characters in male-centric sci-fi stories.

Nyma is the dark and mysterious femme fatale. 

Plaxum is the leader of the rebellion on her planet. 

Allura is the alien princess with magical powers. 

Romelle is the (assumed) naive newcomer to the war. 

Since Lance is emulating traditional character archetypes, it makes sense that he would apply that same emulation to his love life as well, since most of the sci-fi stories which use the tropes Lance’s trying to live up to involve the hero getting the Special Girl. So it makes sense for his character arc to have his endgame love interest be someone other than any of the extra-terrestrial ladies he’s pursued over the course of the series. It has to be someone from Earth, since his desire to return to his home planet was a recurring point throughout the series. 

And looking at the series as a whole leaves only one candidate: 

[Image description: Pidge sitting in the Green Lion playing video games during S7E02 The Road Home] 

S8E01 Launch Date establishes that Pidge is weirded out by the idea of Lance and Allura going on a date together, but gives up a video game she really wanted in order to barter for an outfit for Allura to make sure the data goes well. During the actual date, Beezer - the robot who had been accompanying Pidge at the beginning of the episode - follows Lance and Allura to the site of their evening walk and takes a photo of them. And though she tries to deny it, in S7E01 A Little Adventure Pidge indirectly admits that she does think Lance is cute. 

When Pidge says she thinks the Yalmore is cute in S7E01, her eyes are big in a way that she usually only gets around advanced technology. Her expression when she hastily adds “in a creepy, hideous sort of way, like you Lance,” quickly is frantic and conveys the feeling of awkwardness implying that she hadn’t meant to say it out loud. This brings to mind her words during the mind meld exercise in S1E02 Some Assembly Required when she objects to the Paladins rooting around in her head. Pidge doesn’t like letting other people know what she's thinking and feeling. In that context, her dismissive response to Lance’s navigation skill in S8E05 The Grudge, saying “let’s not get ahead of ourselves” has the same “I’m impressed but can’t bring myself to admit it” energy as Rayla saying that Calumn’s realistically-detailed drawing of the Banther Lodge game room is “okay” in the fourth episode of The Dragon Prince. 

Meanwhile in Avatar, Sokka’s arc is focused on dealing with having to grow up fast as a result of his father going off to war and being left to fill the role of the patriarch and protector of his tribe as the oldest boy in the Southern Water Tribe. His insecurities and self-doubts come from a place of wanting to feel like he’s doing a good job at fulfilling the responsibilities that had been forced upon him because of the war. 

Lance’s character arc, by contrast, is focused on learning to let go of ego and maturing into someone who recognizes that being able to work as part of a team is more important than individual glory or acclaim. The war with the Fire Nation was a foundational part of Sokka’s life in a way that the fight against the Galra Empire never was for Lance, who doesn’t truly begin to understand what he’s gotten into until S1E05 Fall of the Castle of Lions when he realizes that he may not see his home or his family again for a very long time. As a result, it takes awhile for him to really take the war seriously. 

Lance and Sokka do have some traits in common, and it’s valid to point out those similarities. But people need to remember that just because they’re similar doesn’t mean that they’re exactly the same in terms of their character arcs and roles in the overall story of their respective series. The comparisons between Avatar and Voltron were fun at the beginning. I found a few of the posts comparing characters from the two franchises amusing and fun. But since then a lot of fans have felt like they’ve taken those comparisons literally to the point where they expected Voltron to be a rerun of Avatar with a fresh coat of paint. 

The Voltron staff may have borrowed or referenced elements from their prior work on Avatar and Korra, but that does not mean that every future project that someone from Avatar makes has to copy the things fans liked about it.

#voltron legendary defender #voltron meta #vld lance #plance #freevlds8

[catherdrashepard]

Darrow is Not Going to Die at the End of the Series Part 2

There are probably going to be at least one or two more parts depending on how much I can stop myself from blathering on. Anyway, spoilers ahead for the following: Dark Age, Hunger Games, Castlevania, Trollhunters: Rise of the Titans, Avengers Endgame, The Hobbit, Voltron, FMA, HttYD, Death Note, Madoka Magica, Merlin, Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts, HunterxHunter, Dragon Prince, He-Man (the new one), Yu Yu Hakusho, Persona 3. Mass Effect, The Hollow, Camp Cretaceous, and whatever else I can think of.

I last left off on talking about how my thoughts implied that Darrow could die at the end as long all the loose ends are tied. But, I don’t think that that’s really something that can actually happen. A lot of this is speculation on my part and really relies on what happens during the 6th book.

The first thing that came to mind was Mass Effect. The ending of Mass Effect 3 was...not very well received. I’m not going to say that I’m particularly happy with it either but I also think it fits the narrative. However, one thing to note, video games are different than books and the story that Shepard goes through is reliant on the player. Also, stories in games are going to be shorter than stories in books (for the most part, there are definitely exceptions) due to player involvement.

I’m going to start with Shepard’s first death, at the beginning of Mass Effect 2. Of course, being the second game, their death couldn’t be permanent unless BioWare switched protagonists mid trilogy. There are a few reasons, in my opinion, that Shepard was killed during the opening credits of the second game.

First of all, the combat changed between games (a lot between the first and second and only slightly between second and third), and I think Shepard’s two year absence gave a reason for a tutorial on the new combat system. They were dead and had to learn how to use new technology. This is also done between the second and third games, with a 6 month gap, but the combat only changed slightly. Secondly, having the main protagonist die really highlights the threat that the player is dealing with in the second game but, Shepard’s return also shows that they still have unfinished business and that their story isn’t over. Thirdly, I think the absence gives time for the secondary characters time to develop on their own. This is shown more with the characters who appeared in the first game but also it gives an idea of just how much of an impact Shepard had. I feel like this is a parallel to the time Darrow spent in the table between GS and MS.

Now to move on to Shepard’s more permanent death...although if you complete the game entirely (at least in the legendary edition; thank goodness I hated the battle readiness thing) there is a dubious ending where Shepard may or may not have lived. But in any case, Shepard is considered dead and their story is over. Whatever my feelings about this may be, this type of ending didn’t come out of nowhere. The main threat, the Reapers, have been dealt with in a permanent manner, or at least it’s heavily implied that they won’t be coming back. However, just because the Reapers are gone doesn’t mean there aren’t still things to be done. Specifically, recovery. Shepard very well could have been involved in this but it’s not necessary. Their story is over, they have dealt with the threat and it’s not coming back.

Darrow, on the other hand, has not finished his mission. Even if he does by the end of the next book, however, it’s a very different circumstance from Shepard. The threat in Mass Effect was a very large and tangible thing, whereas the problem Darrow faces is an ideology and the people who hold those views. Something like that doesn’t end with a large space weapon pointed directly at the threat; it permeates everything. So even if Darrow defeats Atalantia, Lysander, and whoever else, there’s most likely going to be more people who shared belief that Golds are best. Also, we saw how the Vox Populi felt about the things Darrow was doing. Darrow is essentially reconstructing an entire system of government and, no matter how correct Darrow is, there will always be people who disagree with him.

Assuming Darrow defeats the remnants of the Society, stops the Ascomanni, deals with Quicksilver and whatever he’s doing, takes care of Atlas, handles Apple, what’s left? Much like with the end of Mass Effect, what’s left is recovery. The difference between these two, however, is that while Shepard was not necessarily needed for the rebuilding, Darrow would be.

Now, both Shepard and Darrow spearheaded their respective causes, but (and this relies heavily on how the sixth RR book goes) defeating the Reapers was a group effort, utilising every species and as many resources as they can spare. No doubt the rebuilding of the entire galaxy will require the same. Not that Darrow’s goal hasn’t been similar in that regards, with the help of so many different Colors being necessary. It’s just....Darrow’s circle feels a lot smaller than Shepard’s.

I mean, obviously being the face of a war is going to get you a lot supporters and people to work with, but the most important players are Darrow’s close friends and family. I’m sure part of this is the fact that the books are first person with specific POVs. Mass Effect does focus on Shepard’s story, but it’s in third person and you get a lot of different information through sidequests and talking to other characters. I mean, there’s a whole codex in Mass Effect with a lot of information and there isn’t one for RR (PB should make one tho). Our knowledge of the universe and its history is more limited in RR than Mass Effect, but I think that’s mostly because the lore in Mass Effect has more of a direct impact on how the story goes.

But back to the original point, it’s explicitly shown in Mass Effect that it requires everyone to stop the Reapers. And even though we see Darrow’s army, the main players, the ones who are taking care of the big things, are still Darrow’s inner circle. As an example, Mass Effect would be more like a pyramid (ironic) where Shepard is at the top. Even if it crumbles away (they die), the pyramid will still stand. For RR, it feels more like a chain. If one of the links (Darrow) breaks, then the chain is also broken. You could re-attach the pieces but it wouldn’t be as strong as it once was.

One last thing I wanted to bring up (which I will bring up again in part 4, yes I said part 4), is technology. Both Mass Effect and RR take place in the future and therefore have better technology than we do. There is something very important about this technology though that makes it more likely for Darrow to live. The Reapers are a race of sentient squid machines hellbent on the genocide of every other sentient species in the galaxy. But they are the ONLY things with access to that kind of technology. Even when they share it with Saren or the Collectors, it’s not something others can replicate. And once they’re destroyed (control ending notwithstanding) at the end of the third game, that’s it. They could still have people who are indoctrinated (although I think that stops when the Reapers were destroyed?) or people who are just stupid and think they were right, but...those people aren’t a threat. They can’t bring back the Reapers, I doubt anyone would be able to recreate such a thing (at least not within Shepard’s lifetime even if they did live). So once the Reapers were gone...that’s it.

Now, the technology in RR is, for the most part, accessible to everyone. Assuming Darrow defeats Atalantia, Lysander, etc. their way of thinking would still be around. But with the way the universe works, I think it would entirely possible for supporters of the Society to rise up and start a conflict all over again. This means Darrow is not finished yet, even if the immediate threats are gone. It wouldn’t make sense for him to die when there’s still stuff for him to do.

I do think, though, that it is worth mentioning that the definite ending of Mass Effect is probably related to the fact that it’s a video game and especially for stories like that, a more open ended conclusion with the implication that I COULD do more would only be frustrating. With tv shows, movies, and books, I notice, having a more vague ending works better because you’re just separated enough from the story that you can enjoy the implications of more stuff without feeling unsatisfied. There’s always exceptions of course.

ANYWAY, it part 3 I’m going to be talking about Persona 3 and 5 so....stay tuned.

#darrow of lykos #dark age spoilers #character study #long post

[im-definitely-not-trash]

Here’s day three, thankfully on time. :) I tried to do less dialogue because my stories usually rely on dialogue a lot and I wanted to try something different.

Prompt #3: “Who did this to you?”

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

TW: referenced self-harm, infected injuries

Word count: 1536

Lance and Pidge were chilling playing video games. As they laughed at a characters death, Lance elbowed Pidge’s left arm playfully. She winced, quietly enough no one would hear, but Lance saw her face scrunch up in pain. He dropped the controller and pulled up her sleeve to her shoulder, Pidge protesting the whole time, trying to wiggle away. There were three long scratches on her upper arm, scabbed over and starting to scar, but Lance could see that they had been deep.

“Who did this to you?” he asked.

Pidge went quiet, shuffling away and pulling her sleeve down. Then she just stood up and walked out of the closet. Lance called after her, but she didn’t listen.

~~~

Over the next few days, Lance noticed that Pidge was treating him differently. She was fine around literally everyone else, but she hung out with Kosmo more than him. It was as if he’d done something to offend her, not worrying about her and what happened to her arm.

He tried several times to confront her again, wanting to find out why she was treating him like a disease and also to figure out what had happened and who had done it. But every time, she just ignored him and locked herself in her room so he couldn’t get to her.

Lance considered talking to Shiro about it, but ultimately decided against that. He wouldn’t have a clue what was going on. So he decided to leave her alone until she came back to be friends again.

~~~

His waiting time was cut short after about a week when Pidge showed up to breakfast looking exhausted and kind of green. She left her arm hanging by her side while she ate breakfast goo with her right hand. Her hand shook as she ate and Lance had to bite his tongue to not mention it in front of everyone. But after she excused herself without eating even half of her bowl, he knew something was way worse than it was before and he couldn’t just leave her to her own devices anymore.

He followed her out of the kitchen and snuck into her room with her (what a mess). She went into her bathroom, and Lance tried to watch through the crack in the door and the mirror what she was doing.

Pidge pulled her arm out of her sleeve, biting her lip to avoid making noise as tears spilled over. The three cuts in her arm had seemingly grown bigger, and they were discolored and oozing. Lance couldn’t take it anymore. He threw the door open, making Pidge jump.

“Come on, Pidge, who in the quiznak did this to you?? I’m going to kill who did this, I can’t believe anyone would hurt you! And why didn’t you ask for help at all?! It’s been at least a week that you’ve been hurt, and I know you haven’t said anything to anyone, and it’s pissing me off!”

Pidge was sobbing now, lightly grabbing her arm to curl up in a ball.

“Pidgey, I want to help you! Everyone does! Who did this?! We can’t just let someone like this to roam free to hurt anyone else. Just tell m—”

Pidge cried. “It was me!”

Lance shut up very quickly.

“You?” he asked in a whisper.

The tears wouldn’t stop streaming. “It distracts me, and I didn’t mean for it to get this bad, but I can’t stop thinking about Matt and my dad and my mom whenever Zarkon is going to make his way to Earth to hurt her and anyone else, and I can’t keep pretending that I’m not worried because I am but if I was worried, it would distract me from being a Paladin and so I needed to distract myself from getting distracted and when I distracted myself by my own terms it made it easier to fulfill my tasks as a Paladin, but it got bad and now I don’t know what to do because I can’t let anyone know and I’m still upset that you know and—”

“Pidge.”

She shook while looking at Lance. “What?”

The way her voice sounded, crackly and tired, made Lance want to cry too.

“We can help you. You don’t have to keep anything a secret from us. We can find other ways to distract you to focus, if that’s what you really need. But please, please, don’t hurt yourself as a distraction.”

Pidge sat stiff for a second, then just broke down crying again. Lance gathered her into a hug, carefully avoiding her arm.

“Can I tell the others, please?”

Pidge shook her head.

“Then can you tell them?”

She shook her head more frantically.

“They need to know, Pidgey.”

Her voice was muffled in Lance’s shirt. “They’ll think I’m not a real Paladin. I’m not worthy for it.”

“Shut the quiznak up, Pidge, you just told me you were doing this to be able to focus in the first place! And apparently it worked, at least until recently because of the infection. Now, call me a psychopath, but I’m glad the cuts got infected.”

Pidge went quiet again, stifling her sobs, but still shaking against Lance.

“Pidge, can we at least tell Coran? We need to treat the cuts.”

She was silent for a minute, then finally said, “Okay.”

“Okay. Good.”

Lance felt her grab onto him. “Can we stay here for a minute though?” she asked.

“Of course.”

~~~

When she told other Paladins as a group, they refrained from smothering Pidge because they could see how ashamed she was. But that didn’t stop them from individually going to talk to her.

Hunk was the first who showed up. He knocked on her door and came in when invited. They talked for a long time, Hunk telling her he somewhat knew how she felt but he wasn’t invalidating her experience. He asked if making foods from home would help, or make it worse, and she laughed, saying it would help and be delicious. His helpful distraction was food.

Allura showed up next. Once invited in, she simply asked if she could give Pidge a hug, and they sat together for a while. They talked about random things while always touching, and made plans for just the two girls to follow through with, no boys allowed. Allura’s helpful distraction was physical comfort.

Coran came in without permission, but he thought it was okay because it’s technically his castle. He joked with Pidge about anything he could think of, and sincerely asked where milkshakes came from if not from Kaltenecker herself. Pidge laughed at almost anything he said, and tried her hardest to explain how cows (and mammals in general) work. Coran’s helpful distraction was his natural humor.

Lance had already gone in several times, in between everyone, trying to not leave Pidge alone. If she wasn’t alone, she’d be distracted. Pidge understood the real reason why he was spending so much time with her, to prevent her from going back to her unhealthy distraction, but she appreciated it anyway. They played card and video games, talked, had spa nights, and did basically anything at anytime. His helpful distraction was quality time.

Keith came in and just sat on her desk while she sat on her bed. Pidge occupied herself messing with some gadget, and Keith awkwardly sat, waiting for the right moment. When he finally started talking, Pidge almost jumped. He explained how after he was left alone, sometimes his mind would run wild and he wasn’t able to focus on surviving. Even in the space cadet program at the Garrison, he had to distract himself so he could focus on being a pilot. He had chosen the same way, and he thought for sure that it was helping. Keith showed her his scars on the back of his wrists and the inside of his elbow. He told her how he lost sleep over it because his arms always hurt and his attitude got worse until he got kicked out. He had to distract himself more to avoid thinking about how disappointed Shiro would be and how he would live by himself. It wasn’t until he had gotten invested in finding what turned out to be the Blue Lion that he had stopped. He offered his help in the way that she could ask for literally anything, help cleaning her room, someone to talk to, anything that he didn’t have in that period. Keith’s helpful distraction was himself.

Shiro was the last to confront Pidge about anything. And confront her he did. He didn’t offer any distraction, only a listening ear so she could face what was always on her mind. Shiro understood more than anyone, because he was with Matt and her dad, and he left someone on Earth. And because of how he knew that, he knew that she needed to face it as well as distract when it was appropriate. He was helpful by not offering her a distraction.

And with all of these people around her, so willing to help, Pidge knew she’d be okay and she’d be able to work harder and in turn, defeat the Galra.

She can do it.

[voltrontranscript]

VLD S6E7: Defender of All Universes

Season 6 Episode 7: Defender of All Universes

Transcript by @dragonofyang

Summary: The fight to save the universe rages on in the heart of Daibazaal’s ruins, where each clash weakens the fabric of reality a little more. In the rift between realities, a choice must be made, and then again when the universe begins to fracture due to the damage wrought by Sincline and Voltron.

[Google Doc]

Keith: Coran, you’ve got incoming.

Keith: Shield! Hunk, form cannon!

Hunk: You got it!

Lance: He’s too fast!

Keith: Then we’ll have to get in close. Form sword!

Lotor: Now we will see how Alfor’s legacy stands against the new Altean defender.

Keith: Move! Shield up!

Keith: Attack!

Pidge: We can’t touch him. He’s too fast!

Hunk: We need to stop him from moving around, back him into a corner or something.

Keith: Hunk is right. We have to eliminate his speed advantage. Limit his movements. There! Now we lure him in close.

Keith: Wait for him. Let him build up speed. Now!

Hunk: Where’d he go?

Pidge: He’s behind us!

Keith: Hunk, hit him with the shoulder cannon!

Hunk: On it!

Keith: Fire!

Lance: Did we get him?

Hunk: I don’t know.

Lance: I think we got him.

Pidge: It looked like he just disappeared.

Lance: Yeah! We got him.

Allura: I’m not so sure.

[Brief flash to the Castleship’s infirmary.]

Keith: Is everyone okay?

Pidge: How is he moving so fast?

Keith: We’ve gotta get up and attack.

Lance: Okay, so that time we definitely did not get him.

Hunk: How can he just disappear like that?

Allura: He’s entering the quintessence field at will.

Hunk: Didn’t we blow up the gate?

Pidge: How is he entering without it?

Allura: Because I gave his ships the ability.

Lotor: Unlimited power is mine. All realities will fall to the new Altean Empire!

Keith: We have to go in after him. Getting power from the quintessence is the only way we can match his strength.

Hunk: Can we do that?

Pidge: If he can do it, Voltron can. Can’t we?

Allura: My father did it once before, but it’s extremely dangerous.

Lance: Do we have a choice?

Keith: We need your help, Allura. We have to try.

Allura: I may be able to guide us in, but I’ll need you all to focus your energy.

Allura: Form sword.

Allura: Huh?

Lance: Woah.

Lotor: I underestimated you, Princess.

Pidge: We took a major shot, but I feel fine.

Hunk: All this quintessence is keeping us at full power.

Keith: It’s more than that. Can you hear your lions talking to you? Voltron is capable of more than we ever imagined.

Keith: Attack!

Pidge: See if you can dodge this!

Lance: Come and get some!

Pidge: Let’s end this!

Lance: Finish him!

Hunk: Let’s destroy that guy!

Allura: We have to get out of here.

Keith: What are you talking about?

Allura: This is exactly what happened to Zarkon. Exposure to all this quintessence turned him into a monster!

Lotor: Poor Allura! All the power in the universe at your fingertips and you still fear using it!

Lance: Allura’s right. We’re out of control!

Pidge: All our systems are overloaded.

Keith: Here comes Lotor!

Hunk: How do we stop this?

Allura: We give Lotor all the power he wants.

Keith: Let’s grab Lotor and get out of here.

Pidge: No, we can’t. We have to leave now.

Allura: We must try.

Hunk: Pidge is right. We stay in here much longer and Voltron is done for.

Allura: But we can’t just leave him!

Lance: Allura, we gotta go now!

Keith: Lotor’s made his choice. Let’s get out of here, Allura.

Allura: If we’d stayed in the quintessence field, we would’ve kept fighting until we destroyed ourselves. Just like Lotor.

Keith: What did you do in there?

Allura: I transferred the excess power from Voltron. It’s a technique I learned on Oriande. Thanks to Lotor.

Lance: Thank you, Allura. You saved us.

Hunk: Not just us. The entire universe.

Coran: Oh, you’re back!

Keith: Lotor is no longer a threat.

Coran: Right. I’m afraid we face a bigger threat now. All of Lotor’s jumping in and out of the quintessence field has created multiple growing rifts in the fabric of time and space.

Lance: What does that mean?

Pidge: It means that unless we do something fast, those tears will continue to expand until all of existence as we know it has been destroyed.

Keith: There has to be something we can do.

Pidge: Scanning the rift for any strand refabrication possibilities.

Hunk: I’m running a few different models now to see if there’s any chance it could close on its own.

Pidge: Nothing.

Hunk: Nope. Me neither.

Keith: How long do we have?

Coran: Well, based on the way those rifts are expanding, I’d say about fifteen doboshes.

Lance: Allura, you have to have a way to close it. Voltron opened it up, maybe we can… I don’t know, but there’s gotta be a way!

Allura: I’m sorry, but I just don’t possess that level of alchemic knowledge.

Pidge: The only thing that could possibly pull that rift closed would be a source of gravity more powerful than a supermassive black hole.

Lance: Any chance we could find one and tow it over here in fifteen doboshes?

Coran: Wait a tick. The teludav!

Keith: What about it?

Coran: In order to make wormhole jumps, the teludav creates a brief flash of infinite mass. There might be a way I can overload the teludav reactor and seal the rift. If one of the flashes went off in the rift, it could do the job.

Hunk: But that would mean sacrificing the Castle of Lions.

Pidge: Well, what choice do we have? The castle will be wiped out with the rest of us.

Hunk: But still… it’s been our home.

Coran: Oh, I hate to say goodbye to my grandfather’s creation, the last piece of the real Altea.

Allura: Coran, begin preparations. Everyone else, start unloading the castle. We need to evacuate immediately.

[Montage of the characters loading up the lions with their essentials, ending with Coran standing at the castle bridge.]

Coran: Goodbye, old friend.

[Cut to the Paladins in their lions.]

Hunk: It worked!

Allura: You did it, Coran.

Hunk: And look.

Keith: What is it?

Hunk: It’s a diamond. The pressure crushed the Castle of Lions into this little diamond.

Lance: Well, we saved all realities everywhere. What do you guys wanna do now?

Keith: We need to find someplace to land and see if there’s some way we can help Shiro.

[Scene change to a mostly barren planet in an unnamed solar system.]

Keith: This body is barely living, but Shiro’s spirit is alive. It’s inside the Black Lion. I’ve heard him talking to me.

Lance: He… he tried to tell me, but I didn’t realize. I’m so sorry, Shiro. I--I didn’t know. I could’ve…

Shiro: You found me.

Keith: We’re glad you’re back, Shiro.

Allura: Rest.

Hunk: So what’re we gonna do? The castle is destroyed.

Pidge: There’s only one place that has the plans necessary to build a replacement for the Castle of Lions. Coran gave them to my dad.

Keith: We’re going home.

End.

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