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quickwrites · 7 years

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Papa Kitty: The Abductor, the Savior

“Keith stay close,” Thace shouted after the kit. After a lot of discussion and begging Thace and Ulaz had finally allowed their ten deca-pheob kit with them for a simple supply run to the market asteroid. The market was on the edge of the Empire so there were next to no patrols in the area making it easier for the Blades to get supplies without the Empire catching wind of their business. Still it was far from safe and before they left both fathers made Keith promise to stay within reach at all time. Something the kit was currently ignoring.

Keith looked back at his parents between the bodies of the other market goers. His Papa had his stern face on and normally the expression would send him right back to his side and meekly obey but there was too much to see to be stuck at his fathers hips. He looked down the street to the colorful shops and stalls, people of all shapes and sizes going about their business and took a step away from his Papa.

“Keith,” Thace said, his voice growling in a warning that went unheeded as the kit took off at a run.

The people became a bit of a blur as he ran down the street dodging between people as the crowd became thicker, giggling at his own rebellion and freedom. This was far more fun than running around the base or climbing on things he wasn’t suppose to. It was exhilarating in his young mind! He could hear his fathers yelling after him and was sure at least one of them would be giving chase soon. So when he felt a hand wrap around his forearm he wasn’t surprised. The surprise came when a second hand wrapped around the same arm as a third seized his other wrist. Turning his head he saw a stranger leering down at him as he was lifted easily off the ground and pulled into an alley.

“Papa,” Keith screamed squirming hard against the grip.

“Keith,” Thace’s voice roared. The small hybrid caught a glance of part of the crowd being disturbed in the direction of his father’s voice.

“Keith,” Ulaz’s voice shouted as well the smaller galra’s body briefly breaking over the crowd as he used his partner as a leg up.

The stranger’s hand clamped tightly around Keith’s mouth as shadows from buildings on both sides over took them. “Shut up,” the man hissed, two of his arms wrapping around Keith to pin him against his chest. “Shut up or you’ll regre- OW!”

Keith’s teeth sank into the soft skin around his mouth. While the boy didn’t have fangs like his fathers his teeth were still built to go through flesh and his jaw strong, something the stranger learned very well as he dropped the kit swearing harshly.

Keith landed awkwardly, his ankle twisting under him and giving out when he tried to run away. Turning to face his abductor he scuttled backwards, a whimper escaping him when he saw the large man full on and angrily advancing as he clutched his bleeding hand.

“You’ll pay for that,” the man spat, two of his four hands reaching out. Then he stopped, his expression falling from its twisted fury to a passive mask.

“Nicely done, Narti,” a voice said from behind the man. Four people walked into Keith’s view, three women and a man with long white hair all dressed in Imperial armor. One of the women, a colorful species of pinks and purples almost seemed to dance towards Keith before crouching down to his level, folding her arms to rest on top of her knees as she looked at him with a cocked head. “Well this is a strange looking thing,” she said, her voice matching the first words. “Where did you come from?”

“Don’t be rude, Ezor,” the man said, stepping over to stand in front of Keith so he was between the child and the vacant abductor. “The kit isn’t having a good day. Don’t make it worse.” His eyes narrowed slightly as Keith gaped up at him, purple eyes locking on purple eyes.

“Keith,” Ulaz shouted from the opening of the alley, both his and Thace’s silhouettes taking up the gap as they broke through the crowd.

“Pops,” Keith shouted back, forgetting about his ankle and the strange people as he twisted around and threw himself into Ulaz’s waiting arms. His legs wrapped around the adult’s waist and his arms around Ulaz’s neck as strong arms squeezed too tightly at his ribs. His Pops’s hugs were always warm and comforting but at that moment Keith was sure there was nowhere safer than where he was and sobbed into Ulaz’s neck.

“I’ve got you,” Ulaz whispered into Keith’s ear, stroking his son’s hair and holding him tight all his scoldings flying from his head as the small body shook against his chest. “You’re okay, Keith.”

“Ulaz,” Thace whispered softly, still standing next to his mate and staring straight ahead.

Ulaz looked at Thace, wondering what could be keeping him from wrapping both of them up into his arms, then followed his eyes, his back stiffening as he saw who was standing in the alley with them. “Prin-” he started to say, his and Thace’s heels coming together in an audible click.

Lotor held up a hand. “Stop,” he said, his voice calm and serious. “Let’s not draw any attention here, hm?” His eyes looked over the two galra, noting how the paler one held the kit and turned slightly away almost defensively as the other took a slight step forward to place himself between his family and Lotor and his generals. A smile curled his lips. How amusing. “I take you are the kit’s fathers,” he said, his eyes lingering on “Keith” on just the other side of the purple one’s shoulder. “Good,” he said when he recieved a nod in return. “I hate leaving loose ends.” He paused, watching as the two tensed. Curious. Was their tension simply left over from the near loss of their son or did it have something to do with his presence. Both were likely. Even in exile he was the crown prince of the empire and that was something the common galra took note of. The father in the front was clearly a soldier class, his entire body language screamed it. The “Pops” on the other hand seemed to be more of a servant class from what Lotor could see. It was difficult to tell with his face half hidden behind the mop of black hair on the kit’s head.

“Thank you,” the soldier said finally. “For helping our son.”

“No thanks are needed,” Lotor said, smiling. “But I am curious. I have never seen a species quite like your son’s. He’s not biologically yours?”

The soldier’s eyes darted back then returned, the glance fleeting. “No,” he said slowly. “But his mother was a comrade and galra. We don’t know anything about the sire.”

“I see,” Lotor replied, resting a hand on his hip. “Was? Such a pity. You have my condolences for your fallen comrade.”

“Thank you,” the soldier repeated, his eyes darting again. “Forgive me but with what has happened, I believe it best we take our son home.”

“Yes of course,” Lotor said, looking over his soldier as the abductor still under Narti’s control. “My generals and I will tend to this scum for you. You take care of your son.”

“Thank you, Prince Lotor,” the soldier said, taking a step back as the other turned to leave the alley.

“Just one last thing,” Lotor said, raising his voice slightly to stop the three from leaving. “A final curiosity shall we say. Will he be joining the military when he is old enough?”

The two paused, this time fulling sharing a look before the soldier looked back at Lotor. “Actually,” he said, clearly trying to pick his words carefully, “it is our hope that he becomes a scientist like him.” He gestured to the other.

“A scientist,” Lotor repeated, smiling all the wider. “Well, those are certainly very important to have about. I do hope, one quintant, that I will cross paths with Keith again.” He looked past the soldier, seeing those purple eyes peering at him from over his fathers’ shoulders. “A great destiny is in the kit’s future, that I am sure of.” His eyes locked back onto the soldier’s, seeing a thinly veiled panic just under the surface. “Vrepit sa.”

“Vrepit sa,” Ulaz and Thace echoed automatically before turning away to walk into the crowd. Keith watched over Ulaz’s shoulder as Lotor removed a sword, his would be abductor being brought to his knees by a fourth woman he hadn’t seen before with a cat on her shoulder before Thace suddenly stepped behind Ulaz to block his view of the alley as the small family left the shadows to return to the sun.

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Characters belong to Voltron Legendary Defenders

Hoooooolly shit! I finished the new season and I’m sure I quote many people when I say I need the next one NOW! As it is, I started writing this Wednesday of last week and am just now getting around to finishing it so please forgive any breaks in it’s flow. It has been quite a week! I might try to write another story before I need to go to bed but no one get their hopes up. I’m also trying to work on three different cosplays for next week so we’ll see what happens...

#prince lotor #dads of marmora #keith #young keith #thace #ulaz #lotor's generals #papa kitty #there should be more tags but I can't be bothers sorry #voltron #flash fiction #fanfiction

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loveafterthefact · 2 years

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Love After the Fact Chapter 83: Yea, But for the Fall

Things get a little better... And a whole lot worse.

TW: Some violence, nausea, Alfor being a tolerable person

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Of all the things Lance thought he would get for his nineteenth birth quintant, running in an underground tunnel to bypass a siege on his husband’s home planet to rescue his sister and destroy a mysterious doom weapon was not one of them. The only thing more surreal is that his father is running next to him.

Lance is more than glad to have him though, as they burst through a hole in the floor at the end of the tunnel, tumbling into the midst of a squad of rebels. With no cover and nowhere to run, the only option is to fight.

Activating his sword, Lance darts under the closest foe, slashing at their legs, amputating at the knees, before swiveling around to shoot them in the face. He knows where to be, what to do, where his father is, what he’s doing. Where an enemy’s head is before, Lance's sword is after, driven through the glass visor of their helmet. His body is alive with alchemy. As red quintessence forms a halo around his body, Lance's soul threads into the walls and floor, into his foes, into his father, and the awareness fills his head with a filling sort of emptiness.

For the first time in his life, Lance feels like he’s finally living up to his potential. He just wishes it wasn’t like this. A white and blue blade slices through air, through armor, through muscle and bone, and the only thought his brain highlights is at least it's not that sword.

The sword in his room, hidden deep, locked into a dark recess of his wall, will never, not ever taste blood. That sword was meant for a conqueror or worlds, and Lance knows now better than ever that that legacy was never meant for him.

Lance spots Thace dart out from behind a pillar, sword a wicked glare of light and luxite, and his focus falters. Before he can recover himself, he feels the sting of a laser’s impact with the plate armor of his shoulder, missing his heart by inches. A vicious jolt, the sharp, static shock of an energy cell, leaves his muscles convulsing under his skin. Another impacts the side of his head, leaving him dazed, every heartbeat pulsing against his skull.. He groans, taking cover behind the rubble of a fallen pillar as he waits for his muscles to get their shit together and for his head to stop ringing.

SUIT INTEGRITY: 73 PERCENT

CRITICAL DAMAGE SUSTAINED

FLIGHT SUIT BREACHED

REMAIN WITHIN ATMOSPHERE

BEWARE AIRBORNE MALIGNANCIES

“Tha’ can’t be good,” Lance mutters, running a gloved finger over a crack in the side of his visor as his muscles finally start listening to him again. There’s a tiny, almost miniscule piece missing that he can feel with the sensory fabric in his gloves.

Alfor’s voice reaches his intercom. “Alright, son?”

“‘M fine. Suit’s damaged. We gotta go home on a ship, ‘kay?”

“Indeed you will. I promise.”

He’s still dazed after that double hit, but Lance thinks vaguely that something about that doesn’t quite sit right with him. But then the haze of Thace’s still-somehow-kind face is looking over him, garnet eyes tight with worry and anger.

“-ance… Lance, can you hear me?”

Lance nods his head, eyes struggling to focus. Alfor's typing something in on his vambrace, and instead of shouting through their helmets, Thace's voice is in his ear.

“Can you see me?”

“Kinda… ‘S blurry.” Lance blinks a few times, world coming back into focus on the right side of his vision. “‘S better. Blurry on the left.” He looks around. “Papa?”

“I’m here. Can you fight?”

“Need a minute. Got hit twice… Can we reach anybody on Altea?”

“Our comms are down,” Thace says, inspecting Lance as best he can, shining fallen chemlight in front of his eyes. "We haven’t been able to reach anyone since Krolia sent her correspondence. From what little I saw before the fighting started, there was a virus in her device set to activate if she tried to contact Altea. The rebels may try to weaponize that fact against her if they win.”

The thought of another family member being targeted has Lance sitting up a little straighter, looks around at the carnage. “How long before more of them show up?”

“Not sure. Could be any tick now.” Thace sets the chemlight down with care not to draw attention. "They just keep coming. We're not sure where from. The Blade has their own secret communication, but that's hard with us running all over. We've lost a fair few of who we had left… Met a fair few on the field."

“Right.” Lance struggles to his feet, taking a moment to check his balance. “What’s going on right now? Heard anything?”

“Their intentions, so far as we can gather, are to take control of both Daibazaal and Altea. They’re operating under the assumption that the military as it stands will be reduced to in-fighting, and that any inside opposition will take care of itself. All they have to do is take over The Compound and take out Lotor and Zarkon. Then they'll install their own Champion Elect and governing body.”

“The civilians,” Lance groans, pushing himself up further as feeling comes back to his sore arm. “They’ve rallied. Last I saw, they were starting to make some progress breaching the siege.

Some of that tightness in Thace’s expression shifts. He opens his mouth to say something, but an explosion hits the side of the building they’re in, and they have to duck for cover. Lance curls tight into a ball against his pillar, shielded by the more seasoned warriors. The far wall crumbles in, stone tumbling over the floor in a cloud of dust. The tile beneath him cracks wide and bloodred, and Alfor gently shifts his weight closer, away from the severe damage.

"Don't want you falling down any holes," the aged warrior murmurs.

As the rubble settles, the sounds of battle reach Lance’s ears, swords and blaster fire, metal scraping against stone.

“We have to keep moving,” he mutters as his father stands. The older man groans, grunts in agreement.

“We’ll start in the throne room.” Thace picks up his sword. “That’s where Krolia was headed when comms were cut.”

“Lead the way.” Lance activates his bayard again, drawing the string of his bow; his injured arm protests, stiff and aching, but promises to hold out for now. Thace gives the weapon an appraising look.

“If we survive this, I want one of those.”

“If we survive this, you can have whatever the fuck you want,” Alfor promises, falling in behind the Galra and his son.

“Right.” Lance takes a deep breath, relaxes his drawing arm, squares his shoulders, and tries not to wonder if Keith and his sister are alive. “Let’s move!”

It took all of ten dobashes for Altea to fall apart, and it was dragging its ass getting back under control. Keith issued commands, Griffin in his ear, carrying out his every order. He was going to give this man a promotion if they lived long enough. The adjustment to his formerly shitty-ass attitude was quite refreshing.

To make up for it, the attitude of the Galra cult they were fighting with was just as shitty as ever. Whoever they were, they had an intimate understanding of where Altea was stationing its troops and how those troops were trained.

“I don’t like this,” Griffin mutters. “They know where we go and what we do by the time we do it.”

“I don’t like it either,” Keith mutters. He straightens up, folds his hands behind his back. He feels like he’s vibrating, anxiety, adrenaline, and a lingering bit of nausea turning him into a live wire. “Fortunately, we have a solution.”

“Your Majesty?” Iverson grumbles. “We’re having some issues keeping these shits off the ground.”

“Understood. Listen to me very carefully. They expect us to fight like Alteans. They’re equipped to fight Alteans. And I trained you to fight like Galra, with all your natural-born grace and skill. I trained you to kill anything that raises a blade against you. Your species is just as vicious as mine, but they are not prepared for what I have made of you. Iverson, I want you to fall in under Rizavi. She knows what she’s doing, and you’ll catch on quick if you stick close to her platoon. Griffin, stay in the air.”

“I don’t understand,” Iverson whines.

“They’re equipped and prepared to fight Alteans, so we’re going to implement some mixed tactics I've taught my batallion. Your number one rule: Do not show mercy. Assume it’s your life or theirs.”

Keith takes his hand off the button as Pidge crawls out of the ceiling vent. “I can’t get it. I need a DNA sample.”

“What?” Keith blinks.

“I need Alfor’s DNA.”

“How much?”

“Just a tiny bit.”

“Adam, your handkerchief.” Keith holds out an expectant hand, taking the handkerchief from his Attendant. He extends his claws, taking the corner of the handkerchief under each hook where Lance’s skin cells remain, and tosses it to the Olkari kit.

They wrinkle their nose, holding it gingerly. “Gross.”

“Let’s just hope Lance’s DNA is good enough.” Keith turns back to his map in time to see one of the little ships flicker and go dark. “If it’s not… We might just be screwed- Griffin how’s defense holding up? How’s it looking out there?”

“Not great,” the officer grunts. “But we’re holding our own. We need support on the eastern side of the castle-” The Castle of Lions shudders violently, Adam gripping Keith’s arm to keep him from falling to the floor. “Your Majesty, the eastern tower just fell.”

Keith’s shoulders drop, and he stumbles back into a chair. “W-What?”

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty. We couldn’t stop them in time.” Griffin sounds only the tiniest bit sorry, considering he just informed everyone that the princes’ quarters are gone.

“Nevermind,” Keith chokes out, settling a hand on Kosmo’s head where the part-grown pup still hovers. Bleep Bloop is clinging to his leg. “It’s just things in there.”

It’s not at all just things: it’s every gift Lance ever gave him, every puzzle, every random object, every blanket. The crumpled circlet Rosie made for him at the Frost Ball. The cloak Shiro gave him the day they met. The amber Lance gifted him for his birth quintant… So many moments. The room where they decided to get along, spoke about their future, promised better for each other. The room where only this morning- His stomach twists with nausea, jolting him out of his daze.

“I need orders,” Griffin whispers, uncertainty bleeding through Keith’s earpiece. "Please?"

Keith licks his lips, stares at the map. Defending the castle might be a lost cause. It’s not wholly necessary. “Shift defense efforts to critical areas only. Aside from the areas where our civilian residents and workers are sheltered, and where our stores of rations and other supplies are held, nevermind about the castle. Your current objective is to exterminate the enemy force.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the officer swears. “We are at your command.”

Keith doesn’t respond, drags a hand up and down his face, letting it clamp over his mouth as his stomach rolls again. Adam settles a hand on his shoulder, the pressure grounding as Keith struggles to maintain what control he can.

It’s so much.

There’s so much-

An alarm flares on screen: CASTLE BREACHED

Getting to the throne room was a bitch, made more of a bitch both by running into rebels battling it out with Blade members, but also by the crumbling of The Compound. Lance is only a pace behind Thace, vaulting over fallen pillars and darting out of the way of falling rubble and shrapnel from the airborne battle above. Body still buzzing with quintessence, Lance can feel his father just behind him, sense his steps on the floor, feel the shift in space every time he twists to check behind them.

He knows they’re protecting him, defending the next royal generation. It's distinctly disquieting, but there’s not much he can do about it, no right way to feel. All he feels is sick and afraid, and neither of those will help him save the people he loves.

When they do finally reach the throne room, bruised and worn, they find a scattering of rebel corpses and Zarkon’s body, prone in a pool of blood, his own Luxite sword buried in his back.

“Fuck!” Lance hisses, panting, leaning against the wall. The blood is bright red in color, a light coating of dust settled on its surface, pooling on top of the clay stone as old as the Empire itself. Something in Lance’ heart sinks like a rock.

“Oh, quiznak,” Alfor murmurs. “What have we wrought?”

Lance groans, gloved hand running over the top of his helmet as Thace seals the doors closed. “What now?”

“We find Lotor,” Thace says, and Lance doesn’t wonder where the indifference in his tone comes from. Thace, a man raised to breed himself until he had nothing left, who has carried multiple children, future fodder for the empire, negotiated a more agreeable term of mandatory service, whose mate is somewhere in this compound, possibly dead, because of milophoebs of mismanaged interplanetary relationships.

His gaze slides to the Emperor’s corpse, the shell of a man who sold his son and bargained away his child nephew, the man who said Lance owed him blood restitution, the man who would see Lance’s unborn child as an asset, something to be used…

And he feels nothing. Except maybe a hint of justice, sharp, icy teeth around his heart.

“Son?” Alfor murmurs.

“Let his people deal with him,” Lance says, voice low, chilled in his throat.

“Lance…”

“Don’t ask me to feel anything, Papa. It’s asking too much.”

His father doesn’t respond, inspects the body for clues or whatever.

Lance paces, tries to figure out what to do next, when a familiar silhouette catches his eye, and he darts over to it. Krolia drags him into an alcove, pins and needles shooting up and down his injured arm, her amethyst eyes cutting to where Alfor and Thace are examining Zarkon’s body, wasting time.

“Where. Is. My. Son?”

“On Altea, coordinating defense. What happened?”

Krolia bows her head. “I failed in my duty.”

“I’m sorry,” Lance whispers, and he means it. For Krolia. Not for Zarkon.

“We need to focus on finding the prince and princess.”

“There’s another thing, too.” Lance explains Honerva and the possible technology she’s created. Krolia’s eyebrows furrow further and further until they’re practically joined in the middle. It’s breathtaking how much of Keith is in her face.

“We need to move. Now,” the woman growls, seizing Lance's interface gauntlet and typing some stuff in. “I’ll lead you to her laboratory, and then head toward Lotor and Allura’s rooms. Get those two idiots and let’s go!”

“Papa! Thace! Leave him and let’s go!”

“Son-” Alfor’s face is understanding, but hesitant. He looks tired. So tired.

“Let’s go!” Lance turns back to Krolia, who takes off running, and Lance follows close behind, bayard still in his hand, not checking to see if Thace and Alfor are following behind. He can feel that they are, sense their bodies moving ever just behind him.

Krolia leads them down a series of halls, stairs, and even ramps so steep that Lance can just lean and slide, an arrow pulled back to his cheek. He can see the fletching poking through the damage in his visor.

Down here, the only light is that of their suits, blue and violet glowing dimly in the dark, reflecting off the red stone. It’s so deep and so ancient that the entryways into the tunnels are open. At one point, a handful of rebels leap out of them, three on either side, but unfortunately, these are not former Blade members, and the quartet make quick work of them, even if one manages to graze Thace’s side. He brushes off the alchemists’ offers.

“It’s only skin deep. Don’t waste your energy. We may need it yet.”

The temperature reading on Lance’s visor drops steadily, the air chilly and humid. Tubes and wires are threaded through the stone like veins, vibrating, humming, buzzing as they interact with Lance’s quintessence. Water begins to drip from the ceiling as the warren shifts into the beginning a cave system. A new warning flashes in his view:

FOREIGN CONTAMINATION: AIRBORN

LEAST CONCERN

Must be spores, Lance thinks, as a mushroom nearby erupts into a gray cloud as they pass. He thinks little of it; he’s spent phoebs here on Diabazaal with no problems except the minor nutritional deficit. He’ll be fine. All along the walls, underfoot, slick patches of mold and clumps of fungus cling to beaten stone. Mosses and lichens grow along the edges of the tunnel, hang like streamers from the ceiling. They bioluminesce in the dark- fluffy clumps, thin layers of sludge, caps and hoods, some with their gills dropping down in a lace-like structure.

Lance nearly stumbles as they’re abruptly spat out into a cavern, Honvera leaning over a dish containing a no-doubt very contaminated sample of something or other. Lance jerks his head back and Krolia leaves, hesitating a moment before making the trip back up the mountain. She must know an easier way back up, because she slithers into a side corridor just behind them.

"Honerva," Alfor barks. "What are you doing?"

"What you never had the guts for," the woman hisses, silver hair hanging limp and dead around her face as she pours something into the dish with gloved hands. Something falls from her face, and Lance wonders that it might be a tear. Then a few more fall, and that sick feeling in his gut rises into his chest, icy cold.

"I'm afraid, my friend, that you'll have to be more specific."

Lance licks his lips, shifting his weight from foot to foot as his father brushes past him. Honerva turns to meet him, two stares, sharp as flint, striking against one another, grating along jagged edges.

"I will do for my child what you would never do for yours. What your guileless seed would not sow in us," the woman grits. “Exactly as I was promised.”

Well that's kind of rude.

“Promised by whom, my dear-”

"My son will not choose between his mother or father race. He is anointed. Revered by the people. When our societies have been dismantled I will give him the scraps and he will rebuild."

So turns out, Honerva is just as damaged as Romelle is, with her prophesying and nonsense, though only just as dangerous. Go figure. Lance almost wants to laugh and wishes he had time to cry at how fucked it all is, how much of a mess he’s inherited. How little these royals understand their children’s motivations or struggles.

"Honerva, that's not how it works." Alfor seems to agree with his sentiments. "That's not how any of this works."

"That bitch you gave him has sullied what he is!" Honerva's voice grates like slate stone. She's doing something now, staring almost unseeing at a panel on the wall, fingers needling at the keypad. Pipes beneath her feet begin to glow. "My son will live forever, something pure, better than us."

"And how do you plan to do that?" Alfor murmurs, voice quiet and deep, an edge of command in it that Lance has rarely if ever heard before. For the first time, he looks at his father and sees a fragment of true nobility.

“I will salvage what is left, what you have failed to destroy. Your disgraceful son and my wretched nephew- Zarkon, swot that he was, just insisted on letting it live- None of you fools understand what it means. Decomposition. Recomposition. Life and death at the tips of your fingers. And now…

"I have seen what you will never know, through the eyes of a prophetess, through the boiling of my own blood as I beheld the universe in a single point of space."

Lance meets Thace's gaze out of the corner of his eye and the Galra's widen slightly in a 'this witch is unhinged and we should be running' look. But as Lance's anxiety starts to rise, he sees Alfor's entire body suddenly and completely relax.

"Ah. Forgive my intrusion. I did not understand." Veins of icy quintessence spread backward from the king's feet, sinking into the ground, mapping out a web of wires and tubes beneath their feet. Honerva sways where she stands, still fiddling with her panel. Quintessence begins to vibrate in the air all around them, spores shimmering like a galaxy of stars. Lance inhales sharply, and knows before she speaks:

"It is here, in the walls, in the ground, above you, below you, my blessed son, my own flesh, in the breaths of the animals. It is here, and it is ready!"

Honvera places her palm against the cavern wall; the ceiling above them begins to crumble inward in a shower of dust and pebbles; Alfor's hand is on his sword; the ground is alive from washed-out, sickly quintessence; Lance spies a great, important-looking knot of wires right beneath his feet.

The entire mountain shudders, and Lance's quintessence finds his father's, instantly met with a vast, unyielding determination and something dim and dark tucked just out of his reach. His body is sticky with sweat in his armor, chest drawing in ragged heaves of air, some sense of foreboding infecting his blood. Some panic, some instinctive, bloodred fear breeds in his veins like a virus. Violet light flares in his eyes, almost blinding, all but drowning out that unnatural icy-blue quintessence his father has sewn into the floor. He’s not sure if it’s the wires above him, or if it’s his own body as everything he is, was, and could be catches fire all at once in a wash of purple the same color as his beloved's eyes.

There's no time to dwell on it, even as something slithers in his conscience, a sickening sort of readiness his father’s soul wraps around his heart. Instead, he transforms his Bayard into a broadsword, and in a great, swooping arc with all the strength he possesses, quintessence singeing his nerves, blood pounding in his ears, he plunges it deep into that wire heart, severing copper and polymer like tendon and sinew. He throws the entire weight of his body upon the handle, driving it as deep into the stone as he possibly can until the air screams, and it feels like Lance’s body is being dissolved in acid; his very cells are boiling; his lungs are stuck halfway between one breath and the next-

And the ground falls out from beneath his feet.

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

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rainbowdracula · 7 years

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Bathwater - Gen - 1063 words

When the latest planet rescued from the Empire's clutches turns out to be famous for its hot springs and spas, the Paladins learn something about Keith and Galran social norms.

Extremely self-indulgent communal bathing/grooming piece about one of my personal Galra headcanons. Gen, featuring Keith/Shiro, Kolivan/Antok, and Thace/Ulaz, along with Lance, Hunk, and Pidge.

On Ao3 or below the cut.

The battle had been exhausting, gruesome, leaving them all covered in sweat and blood and God-only-knows what else. Even the Blades – usually unflappable – were distinctly sluggish in their movements, and Keith was flagging, big fluffy ears drooping down and tail dragging down against the ground. His fellow Paladins looked about ready to collapse.

The planet they had liberated, however, was apparently a tourist attraction for its hot springs and spas, and gladly threw open the doors to its finest hotel for their liberators. Keith left his things in the room he was provided and quickly joined the rest of the Blades down at the biggest hot spring. Without much thought, he stripped naked and joined the rest of them in the water.

The hot water from the springs were piped into big tile tubs open to the cool mountain air, so the water could be drained and the pools cleaned; thus, the Blades did not feel bad for trudging into the water as gross and grainy as they were. Usually, Keith didn't like getting wet because of his dark fur, but the hot water was perfect for working through the knots and tangles from his fur. The attendants had even helpfully left hygiene tools for Galras – brushes, combs, files, nail clippers, and scissors, along with various oils and shampoos for fur and scales.

Keith had barely gotten into the water before Thace was gripping him by the shoulders and was fussing about Keith's hair, pouring water through it and working through it with oils. "Warning next time, Thace!"

"It's always so messy," Thace tutted. "Even when you were a little cub, it was a tangled mess."

Beside them, Antok chuffed. He was lounging against the tile, prosthetic leg off, and Keith grabbed a file to work on the ragged nails of Antok's hand.

"Like you're one to talk," Keith said. "Your ear tuffs are mite bait."

"That's not true," Antok squawked. Kolivan came up behind Antok and nuzzled the big fluffy ears in question.

"He has a point," Kolivan pointed out. He had taken his own mane out of its braid, letting it fall in waves, and Antok ran his free hand through the wet fur.

"Traitors, the lot of you," Antok sighed. Ulaz had swam up to start brushing Thace's fur out, chuckling at the exchange. The tub was full of Blades grooming each other, working out the tension from battle, the sounds of their purring and chuffing filling up the room. Keith's ears twitched when he heard the sounds of the Paladins coming, and he turned to them with a big, happy smile.

Hunk, Pidge, and Lance were wearing swimsuits, while Shiro just had a towel around his waist. They had paused on the threshold, just watching the Galra groom each other. Keith waved at them, "The water's very warm!"

Only Shiro moved at that, dropping his towel and descending into the water, groaning as the warmth seeped into his bones. Keith handed the file to Kolivan to finish up Antok's ragged nails and padded over to Shiro.

"I'll wash your hair," Keith promised. Shiro smiled at him, and then ducked his head underwater to get his hair wet. Keith squirted some shampoo into his hands and started massaging it into Shiro's scalp, and Shiro let out a long sigh and relaxed right against Keith.

Slowly, the other three Paladins joined the Blades in the tub, perhaps lured in by how boneless Shiro was becoming, and were quickly swallowed into the grooming session. Keith washed out the shampoo and worked in a conditioning oil. Shiro rolled his shoulders and turned around, grabbing a brush from the side of the tub. "Alright, your turn."

Keith turned around, folding his arms over the side of the tub and resting his head on his arms as Shiro brushed out the fur on his back. He couldn't help but purr loudly, eyes sliding closed slowly. Eventually, however, they all piled out of the tub and into the changing rooms, to towel off.

Fur flew about as the Galra dried off their fur and combed through it, brushing out the shed fur trapped in their undercoats. Shiro's hair did not have an undercoat, but Keith combed it until it was shiny anyway. Finally, all dried and cleaned, they put on the soft robes and pants the hotel provided and headed to dinner.

"So, the big old Galra like to take baths and brush each other?" Lance asked, sidling up to Keith.

"Of course," Keith said quizzically. "It's something you do with your family and loved ones, it makes everyone happy."

As if to prove his point, Thace gave Keith an affectionate nuzzle as he passed, Ulaz pressed up against his side. Keith made a little chirp, like he was a cub again.

"It was a lot of fun," Hunk admitted, admiring how polished and neat his fingernails were, free from the usual mechanical grease and grime.

"I feel so...clean," Pidge said. She had been instantly swarmed by Galra intent on evening out her hair cut and working through the tangles. "Purified."

"Humans don't do this?" Antok asked. "But what if you can't reach somewhere? How do you ensure you have properly cleaned yourself?"

"Not really," Shiro confirmed. "It's not something we do often."

Antok shook his head. "Missing out."

They all tumbled into the dining room, where Allura and Coran were already waiting – apparently, public bathing was not done at all for Alteans, and they had elected for private baths. Conversation shifted away from Galra grooming habits as they all settled in for a meal.

Later in the night, Keith twisted his mane into a braid so he didn't immediately ruin all of Thace's hard work, staring intently into the bathroom mirror. Shiro watched him from the bed, lifting his arms to let Keith curl close to him when he got into bed. Keith felt lighter and happier than he had in ages, nuzzling close.

"Do you want me to start grooming you?" Shiro asked.

"If you want," Keith said. "If it's not something humans do, don't do it just for my sake."

Shiro kissed Keith's ear. "No, I want to do it. I really...I really liked today. It was relaxing."

"I know, right?" Keith said. "I don't understand why humans and Alteans don't do it."

Shiro laughed. "We're a ridiculous people, I'll admit."

#my writing #sheith #keith #takashi shirogane #Galra #Blades of Marmora #some minor papa Thace #thace #kolivan #ulaz #antok

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chibi-pix · 11 months

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I was in a quest for pride stuff today and was put out at how little there was (some stores not even having anything). And on my way home, I realized. I can draw pride myself. So! For pride month, I’ve got the two greatest dads for AU stuff. Thace and Ulaz! And with their baby girl, Katie, proud and happy to have her dads.

So! Here we are! Happy pride month everyone! And celebrate any and every day! Until next time!

#Pidge #VLD Pidge #Thace #Ulaz #Thulaz #Thace x Ulaz #Gay papa Ulaz #Bi daddy Thace #LGBTQ #Voltron Legendary Defender #VLD #Pidge Gunderson #Katie Holt #VLD Thace #VLD Ulaz #pride #happy pride

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starrbomb · 7 years

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Lance and the blades (part 2)

So I’ve gotten a lot of requests for more of Lance and Kolivan, and I thought “well what about the other blades?” So it’s kind of grown from Lance and Kolivan, to Lance the the blades. (P.s. Ignoring canon.)

So obv. Kolivan pretty much adopts Lance, refusing to leave him alone with his low self-esteem and depression. And the other blades pick up on this; since Kolivan is literally treating him like his child; making sure he eats and sleeps, sometimes even sleeping with him to help when he gets nightmares ( lance still doesn’t know how Kolivan knows when he has one, it’s like he has a sixth sense for it). But they also know that Kolivan is their leader, and sometimes can’t look after Lance So some of the other blades decide to help out.

Antok helps train with him, and while he doesn’t talk much, he gives really great constructive criticisms, and helps him learn great tricks to use during hand to hand combat. Lance likes to hang out with Antok, because even though he doesn’t talk much, Lance can just tell that he’s always listening to him when he rambles. He’ll ask Lance about human culture and customs whenever he sees Lance is struggling with his thoughts. He is sometimes very intrigued about some human concepts and customs and cultural traditions, so it’s pretty much a win-win. (Ulaz likes to hear about human culture as well.)

Thace has found out that Lance loves to learn languages, so he likes to help him learn Galran and many other alien languages. While he doesn’t know many, being able to see Lance actually enjoying himself in the middle of this war. And surprisingly, Lance teaches Thace some Words in Cuban and other languages from Earth. Whenever Thace passes Lance in the hallway, he’ll say small words of encouragement, or even silly nicknames in other languages to him, and it always brings a smile to Lance’s face.

He likes to hear about human culture and customs with Antok, Ulaz is really interested in the Earth geography and topography. And he unknowingly (at first) helps Lance with this. Ulaz will sometimes find Lance looking at a hologram of a solar system he’s never seen, and he’ll usually ask Lance to tell him about Earth and it’s lands. Lance can talk about the ocean and is sea life for hours, or talk about all types of weather and seasons, and Ulaz makes comparisons to other planets that he’s seen from his missions with the blade of mamora. (Lance and ulaz have plans to check these planets out once they find Shiro.)

And of course, Kolivan is such a papa bear with Lance (Especially if Lance has a bad run in with Lotor). He’ll make sure that any injury, either from training or from missions. And he makes sure to talk to Lance and include him in strategy meetings. He’s practically made a nest of blankets and pillows in Lance’s room, and has a sixth sense for when he has a nightmare or is getting stuck in his head with self deprecating thoughts, you can bet that he’ll be there as soon as possible to comfort Lance. He listens to Lance when he voices his bad thoughts about himself, and he knows that just telling Lance that it isn’t true doesn’t make the thoughts go away or make them any less real, he can comfort him and always list off all the great things he has done, and all the things that he’s great at.

A lot of the other members of the blade have taken to calling him nicknames like ‘blue star’ or 'little cub’ in galran (Thace hasn’t taught Lance the Galran word for cub, so lance is never sure what they’re saying when they call him that; but he can tell that it’s something that he can hold some pride in.

Also, the Blades didn’t know what cuddling or hugs were until Lance seriously needed some physical comfort but was too scared to ask Hunk for one, not wanting to disrupt his work. Of course Kolivan found him close to an anxiety attack, and not really sure what to do, or how to help, he tries to mimics what he’s seen the Yellow Paladin do. It’s super awkward, and really stiff, but Lance is able to tell that Kolivan is trying to help, so Lance pretty much takes lead in the hug. Kolivan later explains the comforting gesture to the other blades, so that way, if any of them see Lance in such a state again, they will know what to do.

(Antok is surprising a natural at cuddling and hugging, and seems to enjoy them just as much as Lance does. A lot of times they’ll end up cuddling when Lance will talk about Earth.)

Ok that’s all I got for now, if any of you guys have any headcanons or ideas about this, don’t be afraid to send them my way, I love hearing your ideas based off of my ideas.

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5am-moonlight · 5 years

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Can you write a fluff piece with Dad!Keith playing with his baby boy (all cute and chubs) and his wife!reader?

Keef!!! Papa!! Up up!!" You laughed as your son was pestering his dad, who was trying to close an alliance deal with a planet in the galaxy over. Tex, named after his grandfather, Keith's dad, had just turned three years old and he was absolutely enamoured by his father. He followed him everywhere, you even found him trying on his Keith's Admiral uniform blazer, which you took a picture of that Keith now keeps in his credit card pouch. Physically, Tex looks alot like you, but he inherited his daddy's doe-like violet eyes. You've also discovered his eyes have a retroreflector, like a cat, which nearly cause you to body slam your own child when you woke up and he was standing right next to you with glowing eyes. Keith didn't believe you until he woke up with his son sittting on his chest looking down on him and the almighty scream your 28 year old husband let out still makes you laugh if you think about it too long. His skin is more similar to yours, but in certain light it has a very slight purple tint. He has extremely long, thick eyelashes, and has unfortunately perfected his "puppy eyes" which Keith is all but immune too. He's also incredibly clever, and picked up that his daddy's name wasn't actually 'daddy' or 'papa'. You think he heard Lance or Krolia say his name and now whenever Tex wants something he'll call his daddy by his name, except, he can't actually say it, so it comes out 'Keef' and it honestly makes your heart soar.

Currently, he was in Keith's arms, poking at his cheeks while Keith was trying to keep a straight face and continue the call. Out of all the things that made you love your husband so wholly, the fact he would never put work before his family was always the thing that made you fall in love with him time and time again. He would never say excuses for being late, and if Tex was pestering him in the middle of a call, he would always see if he was okay, and usually let him stay during the call, holding him or just letting him play quietly on the floor.

You remember when you discovered you were pregnant, and when you told Keith.

He had been so excited, finally glad to have a chance to give someone the childhood he never had. He had also been terrified. He was so incredibly worried that he wouldn't live up to expectations and he would fail his child, but you had been quick to dispel that, telling him you knew how much of a good man he was, and how much he loved you and his child already. He had even asked you if you could wait, until Tex was old enough, so that we could attend your wedding as a ring bearer and be involved. You guys had yet to be married, engaged for nearly four years, and you thought it was perfect. Of course, everything had it's wonky bits, like when Tex caught whooping cough shortly after he was born and you and Keith were distraught for weeks after. He has been fine, the wonder of Galra/Alien medication but it was a taxing time. During that, you and Keith hadn't had the time to speak for a while, and once you were cleared to take Tex home, you nearly collapsed from stress. He immediately made you go to sleep, and promised he would join you once he put Tex down for a nap. You woke in the middle of the night, and Keith hadn't been there, which made you incredibly sad because after everything you just missed him. You had wandered into the sitting room, and saw Keith asleep on the couch, a book of fairytales from your childhood open on his chest. The cot for the baby was pushed right up next to it, and the side was off so he could keep an eye on his son. The memory, though painful, always made you feel so warm and loved, and you knew without any doubt that Keith would always be there, and be an amazing dad.

Telling Krolia you were pregnant had been a whole different story. She'd be overjoyed, of course but the Galra have a ton of different traditions when it comes to pregnancies. Once you'd smoothed out that no, you weren't going to give birth in 6 weeks, and no humans can't detect the gender of a baby by scent, it went fairly smoothly. You had been a bit scared that Tex might be a little frightened of the Galra, especially the Blade members, as they towered over you all at 8ft tall, with their ears and deep fur and claws. But, Tex was absolutely fine with them. He kept on calling Thace "Kitty!! Fluffy Kitty!!" Which made Keith laugh so hard he'd have to leave the room, and now whenever Keith is on call with Blade business, Tex makes grabby hands at the holo-screen and giggles "Kitty!! Hello big kitty!!!" Which, in the middle of genuine serious meetings, isn't the most formal but it makes everyone chuckle, and does infact relieve some of the tension in the room, and usually when Keith is stressed about new diplomatic agreements, you'll just strategically place Tex into the room with him, so he'll help ease the air of the call. It's hard to argue against inter-planitary allegiances or the value/ trustworthyness (since some planets are still wary of the galra) of the Marmora group when theres a tiny baby in the arms of what is essentially to him a very big teddy bear. You and Keith hadn't yet told him his heritage, although he was aware the Krolia was his grandmother, you doubt he was old enough to realise what that actually meant yet. Still, for now, you had all you could have hoped for.

#voltron keith #voltron x reader #keith kogane #voltron legendary defender #tex kogane #krolia kogane

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