catsushinyakajima

[catsushinyakajima]

when i'm feeling overwhelmed at work, i take it out on klance. if i have to suffer, so do they 😤

[catsushinyakajima]

Romelle is a curious and clumsy girl. She knows so little of the universe Allura is exposed to and is fascinated by all things, impressive or not. She marvels over the controls in Blue equally as much as the explosive fights they weave in and out of. When the lions form Voltron, there are tears in her eyes.

“Cool, isn’t it?” Allura says after they disband.

“Yeah,” Romelle blubbers. She turns to hide her face from Allura. “Cool.”

“I cried the first time they formed Voltron too.”

Romelle whips around at that, her long, blonde locks flying with the motion. “You cry? I mean uh—I’m not crying.”

Allura laughs. She’s so odd.

It’s nothing like how Allura imagined meeting another Altean would be.

Romelle is the total opposite of everything she envisaged.

Alteans are…

Alteans were…

They carried themselves with a lot of pride. There was pride in invention, pride in rule, pride in culture, and pride in conquests. There was a discreet sense of elitism veiled in many minds; to be Altean was an honor. To not be—well, that’s just alright. Alteans carried themselves with an air of sophistication and an infinite amount of self-worth. Allura’s dear friends and cousins were particularly susceptible to the superiority complex that raged amongst upper-class Alteans. It was snobbish and annoying, but well, Allura can’t hold that against them anymore. What use is spite against long eroded bones and ash?

It hasn’t been too long ago for her. What’s a few years versus a few thousand? She was asleep regardless.

Allura refused to let herself chase the idea of finding another Altean after the alternate universe crushed her hopes. It showed her the worst of her civilization, every bitter part that she couldn’t fathom existing. Those Alteans used her lovely language to speak of authoritarian rules  and supreme dictatorship. They spat on her dreams and the civilization she knew. All she could do was cry to Coran late at night.

Lotor brought ruin to her dreams even further. Because Lotor, she let in. Lotor, she showed her heart to. Allura presented her culture’s grandest innovations and secrets of quintessence in hopes of what—bonding with him, another Altean? Showing him the world he missed out on? He didn’t care. He used her. He took her sciences and used it to fuel his power hungry agendas.

Allura should’ve known better. Being Altean doesn’t mean anything. People speak highly of Altean stories, but that’s just at face value. In this day and age, an Altean is nothing more than a currency. How many times has a planet accepted them because of her name and title? How many of them offer help in exchange for pumping their cities with ‘Altean magic’?

The universe doesn’t care about her people or culture. They don’t care about what she stands for. She’s just a walking relic.

Slowly, Altea is being written out of history. It fades away.

“So…” Romelle taps her foot as they get ready to sleep in the Blue Lion after another long day of travelling. She’s dressed in spare paladin sleepwear. Idly, Allura notices that the blue of her clothes match the blue of her marks.

“Did you ever…fight any thieves, or something?” “I’m sorry?” Allura blinks.

“You know, back on Altea.” Romelle gestures as if her question was obvious. “You did a lot of cool things, right? Like fighting thieves and stopping assassinations?”

Allura shakes her head. “Every building on the planet was integrated with an anti-theft software that detected intrusive and unwelcome guests. There was never any need for me to fight thieves”

“Integrated with what?” Romelle brushes her hair. It’s quite long. Confusion is plain on her face.

“Essentially, we had gotten a holographic scan of the entire planet that updated every time—” Allura halts herself. “Are you really interested?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Romelle asks. “You think I know this stuff?”

She shakes her head. “Where do you even get these ideas from? Thieves and assassins?”

Romelle hops into their shared bunk. It’s just large enough to fit the two of them. The other cot, across the room, hosts Coran and the mice. “The stories about you. Children’s tales, I guess. But there were books! I can show you down at the old shop. Or well…” she trails off. “I can’t go back, so you’ll have to take my word for it.” Romelle smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“I believe you,” Allura says, “But really, Romelle. I’m not as interesting as those stories you read make me out to be. I was just a boring, regular princess.”

“I don’t think you’re boring.”

“Really?” Allura slides into the bed next to her. She’s careful to maintain her distance. “What’s interesting about me?”

“You’re so…” She trails off. Romelle is staring at her, she realizes. From this close, it’s hard to evade the focus of her eyes. Allura watches her watch her, and wonders what she sees. Is she looking at her scars? They’re thinly veiled, but they still decorate her face. Is she looking at her Altean marks and how they glow at night? Does it remind her of home?

“You’re so strong. You’re never afraid to fight. I’ve never met anyone like that—well, I don’t know too many people, but that’s not the point. I, uh. You always speak your mind and stick up for your friends.”

Allura can’t help but slip a small smile. Romelle is so candid. She speaks all that is on her mind.

“Thank you, Romelle.”

“I wish I knew you back at home,” she blurts out. “Sorry, that’s weird. Ignore that.”

“No that’s—that’s sweet.”

“I just mean that you’re really cool and we could’ve had a lot of fun together. The colony—it’s not Altea, so maybe you wouldn’t love it the same as I do, but it’s really nice. We could’ve played in the creek. Or picked flowers together.”

“Picking flowers,” Allura muses, “That sounds fun. I think your colony sounds lovely.” She doesn’t mention how much her heart cries for it, a land filled with her people. She doesn’t say that she desperately wants to turn around and immediately save them.

Instead, she says: “I’d like to have known you back at home too.”

“Really?”

Allura nods. “We could’ve made fun of the nobles together. You would’ve hated them. And you would’ve loved our parties.”

“Balls?” Romelle’s eyes light up. Her marks glow even brighter.

“Something like that. Lots of dancing and lots of gossip.”

“That’s so fun,” Romelle whispers, “I wish I was there.”

“Me too.”

“At least we’re together now.”

Neither of them mention how all that they speak of has been left behind as they lay in bed together. Opposite worlds that have fallen to dismay and destruction. Allura’s, completely lost. Romelle’s, with still a chance. Allura wants to save them—she wants to bring her world back to her. She can’t cure Romelle’s heartbreak. She’s well aware of that. But those flowers and creeks, her old house, her grasses and farms and even the dumb Lotor statue—Romelle deserves to have it back. At least one of them should be able to return to their life.

And maybe, just maybe, Allura could return with her too.

@voltronyurievent

Day Two: Black Holes/Opposites

[catsushinyakajima]

Are Shiros lines not there bc he’s always missing

Lance: It’s so hard being the hottest, sexiest, coolest motherfucker on this team.

Keith: Really? I didn’t know Hunk had it so difficult.

Hunk: Aw, buddy! He’s right. It’s a challenge, but anything for the universe!

Pidge: 01000110 01100001 01101110 01101111 01101110 00100000 01101010 01110101 01110011 01110100 00100000 01110011 01100101 01100101 01110011 00100000 01101101 01100101 00100000 01100001 01110011 00100000 01100001 00100000 01110010 01101111 01100010 01101111 01110100 00100000 01110011 01101111 00100000 01100010 01101100 01110101 01100101 01101101 01100001 01101110 01110100 01101001 01100011 01110011 00100000 01101101 01100001 01100100 01100101 00100000 01101101 01100101 00100000 01110011 01110000 01100101 01100001 01101011 00100000 01101001 01101110 00100000 01100010 01101001 01101110 01100001 01110010 01111001 00100000 01100011 01101111 01100100 01100101

[catsushinyakajima]

Okay so I just found out from a friend about Shiro x Sendak and while each to their own, ship whatever, I cant help but cry laugh about how the fuck Shiro would explain it to the team if they found out like -

Keith: no

Shiro: you dont even know what im gonna say

Keith: istg if youre fucking that guy who tried to kill us I will find a way to have you institutionalised out here dont fucking test me

[catsushinyakajima]

As a child, Romelle dreamed of the stars.

She didn’t know anything past the pale blue sky hanging overhead the colony. Her scope of the universe ended at the height of the tall grasses, trees, and Prince Lotor’s towering statue. All that was taught that existence exists beyond the colony and that this existence is no good. It’s a corrupt thing—a plague. It ate away their beautiful planet with violent bloodthirst. It’s impossible to reach any world beyond the colony, so there’s no point or reason in trying. Nothing good is out there, except for the prince who protects them.

But the myths unravel. They spill out and tangle through the masses like a ball of yarn that has tipped over the edge of a table. They wrap around Romelle and she clings to them with a fervent curiosity. She won’t let it go. These strings of history—they are hers. The townspeople can laugh and roll their eyes. Still, she persists. In the quiet, dimming twilight of a land locked by its horizon, Romelle tells her little brother stories about a princess.

She tells him about her glimmering, white hair that floated down past her waist like clouds. She tells him that she has marks like them, in a dainty pink color. Such a lovely color, fitting for a royal princess. Her skin is a dark, dark bronze, like armor and she’s never seen without her crown.

“How do you know?” Her brother, Bandor, asks.

“I just know! Quiet!”

The details that Romelle doesn’t know, she makes up. Bandor asks her what the princess wears. She creates an elegant gown in her mind and insists it’s her clothes for when the Alteans hosted balls. Frankly, she doesn’t even know if they did that—maybe Romelle picked up the idea from a story book. Her brother is none the wiser. Besides, the princess looks beautiful in the dress she has conjured. Should the Alteans have had balls, it’d be a tragedy if she hadn’t worn something similar.

“Does she have a boyfriend?”

Romelle wrinkles her nose in disgust. “No, stop interrupting.”

She tells Bandor about the daunting tales of the princess as well. How she stopped an assassination with her quick wit and rounded up a gang of thieves that bothered commoners. These myths travelled by mouth, but Romelle fact checked her sources—she spoke to several others about it too and they all agreed with the story she told.

“—and then she hits him with the, the uh, spear!” Romelle stands atop the foot of their shared bed and jabs her arm into the air.

Bandor is tucked in bed with a smile. “What’s a spear?”

“Like those…” Romelle thinks. “Sticks! No…—Oh! Like what we use to catch fish.”

“The princess goes fishing?” 

“No! She uses the spear to stab her enemies.”

“She eats her enemies?” He cries.

“No!”

Like all things grand and feeble, the nights of storytelling come to an end. Bandor leaves her to board Lotor’s mysterious spacecraft. He comes back in a burning escape pod with a heartbeat too faint to revive. He’s asleep forever before she can say more than one sentence. There will be no more bedtime tales.

Two Galra aid her vengeful investigations about Lotor. Galra! Those that have been written into their minds as evil help her while the crooked Lotor is being paraded as a savior. Keith Kogane and Krolia hold her hands with sympathetic gazes as Romelle cries. They anchor her down as her world starts to rot and grey.

She mourns her cheated brother. She hurts for her long dead parents. She laments for the fate of her innocent neighbors and the facade of a safe haven from the war. She cries for a civilization long toppled and a princess that had to bear the loss.

Keith and Krolia whisk Romelle away from her deteriorating colony in their high-fi space ship. They whizz past supernovas, galaxies, and stars—Keith points all of them out for her as they pass by. Still, for the most part, space is empty. Space is so…so dull. The things that are there, the things Romelle once poured over with immense fascination with her brother, exist meaninglessly.

It troubles her to see the open plains of darkness. Where will she go now that she’s left the colony? Romelle can’t go back—she’s a traitor. Lotor will have her head. She doesn’t know anything but the colony. She doesn’t know how to fly, any other languages, any other planets, or anyone but the two soldiers accompanying her. Romelle is homeless. She’s lost, although maybe she has been since the second Bandor’s eyes shut forever.

Krolia tells her not to worry. Voltron will help her. Voltron? The name seems as meaningless as everything else in outer space. There is nothing that can help Romelle.

Then, the ship docks at a beautiful, white castle floating through space. Then, Keith leads them through sleek doors and hallways adorned with the same pink and blue hues that glow under the eyes of her people.

Then, Romelle is guided into an open room filled with suited strangers and she comes face to face with a princess with clouds for hair and dainty, pink marks.

“Lotor is a traitor.” Keith stalks forward with intent. Romelle is still staring.

Because that’s—

That’s the princess.

That’s her princess.

The princess is frozen in shock too. She stares dead at Romelle—only Romelle. Not Keith, Krolia, or the fluffy creature knelt by their side. She can’t fathom what the princess is searching for in her eyes; Romelle is hollow, through and through. She’s left everything behind.

It doesn’t even register to her that Lotor is in the room until another man knocks him unconscious and sweeps him away. The whole room breaks into chaos and Romelle is left stranded. Orders are being shouted and alarms are beeping.

In the midst of it all, the princess comes forward and grasps her hand.

Her palm is unexpectedly rough and calloused. From the spear, Romelle thinks.

“You…” She says, “Who are you?”

@voltronyurievent

Day One: Constellations/Dreams

[catsushinyakajima]

klanceeeeee

[catsushinyakajima]

I don’t have a whole lot of time for drawing anymore, but I needed to get something sketched up for this fic because oh my goddd.

This fic has got me feeling feelings yall. Uhg. Go read it.

escape velocity by @existwound

Lance’s posture has gone from somewhat respectable to bad to worse, and his attention span is slowly but surely reaching its breaking point, when the door in the back of the room slides open.

Blue and gray and black. Long, dark hair. A familiar set of eyes. The same faded scar carved along his cheek.

Lance jerks upright, nearly jumping out of his chair.

“I’m filling in for Kolivan.”

The words strike right through Lance’s sternum. And he didn’t even have his defenses up. He didn’t have time to prepare.

Although somewhere deep down, he knows that no time in the world could’ve prepared him for seeing Keith again.

or: Being stuck with his ex at a diplomatic conference for a solid month is super cool and very fun. Because Lance is over him. Obviously. He so is.

[catsushinyakajima]

Pidge’s fuckass bob grows into a fuckass shoulder length do (the secret reason she grows it way long or way short, cause it flicks up and she thinks she looks stupid, no matter what anyone else says)

[catsushinyakajima]

this is so stupid

[catsushinyakajima]

and here, on earth, i would stay to throw you a rope, reach out my hand use all the power in me to understand why i need to stay here, right by your side surely, it's love like this that keeps us alive

too in love to die - julia jacklin

[catsushinyakajima]

I see your "Adam and Shiro were fiancés at the time of the break up" and raise you "Adam was literally so close to proposing, had the ring and everything, when they broke up."

(And of course it would've been Adam who was going to propose, because, once Shiro signed on to Kerberos, he knew he most likely wouldn't come back. He knew he couldn't make a promise of forever to Adam, so he never planned to.)

(Adam never cared about forever. He only ever wanted as much time as they could have.)

[catsushinyakajima]

flesh and blood amongst war machines

[catsushinyakajima]

It's been a minute since something I wrote made me tear up a little lmao. This was just supposed to be a cute, light Adam teaches Keith to cook thing but gotta sprinkle that hurt in there somewhere 😂. It's not a minty fic without hurt/comfort.

Does this count as a WIP Wednesday? Pretend it's not Thursday.

Adam's eyebrow raises and his head tilts, amused, trying to picture little seven year old Keith throwing knives. "Throwing knives, huh?"

Keith nods excitedly. "Yeah! Dad had targets set up outside that we would practice on. And he had a lot of knives. He even gave me a knife for my birthday, just before he—" he cuts himself off, gaze falling to his now clenched fists in his lap.

"It's ok," Adam crouches down in front of him, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder. "You don't have to talk about it. But, if you ever want to, I would love to hear about your dad."

"Really?" Keith replies, eyeing him skeptically. "Everyone always told me to stop when I did. They said that talking about him wasn't going to bring him back."

The shock of that statement lasts on Adam's face for a split second before he schools his expression back to neutral, thanking all the stars for how well practiced he is at keeping a blank face from his few years being a teacher at the Garrison. He'd be able to discuss that information later with Shiro but for now his focus was the 13 year old in front of him.

He gives Keith a small smile. "Well, sometimes it's good to remember them. Sometimes remembering people who aren't here anymore can hurt and make us sad, but it can also make us happy. Your dad was a big part of your life and you should talk about him when you want to. I'm sure Shiro would also love to hear stories about him."

Keith watches him for a moment, eyes having grown shiny with his words, before giving a small nod.

[catsushinyakajima]

I think I’ve said this before, but Keith and Lance 100% get so frustrated with each other that physically fight each other . They literally cannot talk things out. The minute one of them has a problem with the other, it’s on. It starts as a petty jab or sarcastic comment and spirals so fast it’s almost impressive.

They're fighting because they can’t talk, because it’s the only way they know how to let out all the feelings they’ve let build up. Keith’s sharp and fast, Lance is scrappy and relentless, and it doesn’t help that they both hit hard.

It’s never a clean fight either. It gets ugly, bruises blooming across jaws and ribs, bloody noses, someone always ends up with a split lip. Sometimes they don’t even remember who threw the first punch. They’re rolling on the floor, fists in fabric, teeth gritted, one of them pinned while the other’s snarling some sort of insult.

Keith fights like he’s trying not to feel. Like if he hits hard enough, he won’t have to deal with the ache in his chest. But it doesn’t work. The frustration builds and builds until it spills over. His teeth clenched, shoulders shaking. He usually ends up on top of Lance, fists clenched but frozen, because if he throws another punch he’s going to start crying, and he hates it. He hates how much Lance gets under his skin like this, hates how much it matters.

And Lance? He knows when Keith’s losing it, even if he’s too stubborn to say or do anything about it. He’ll go still under Keith’s grip, staring up at him like he’s trying to figure out what the hell they’re even doing. Like he’s not sure if he wants to keep fighting or just pull Keith down and hold him there until the storm passes.

That’s usually when someone steps in. They don’t talk about it afterward. They patch themselves up in silence, the boys refusing to meet each other’s eyes.

But like clockwork, everything is back to normal. No apology, no acknowledgment of what just happened. Lance is back to teasing and Keith rolling his eyes, it’s like the fight never happened at all.

Because pretending it's fine is easier than dealing with whatever this is. If they stopped to really talk about it, about how much they care, how much they feel…. it would unravel them. They argue, they fight, they ignore, It’s a cycle they don’t know how to stop. Maybe they don’t even want to.

[catsushinyakajima]

hi bestie just letting you know i am patently waiting for the next chapter of no place is home like a wife waiting for his husband to come back from the war. i don’t know when he will come back and if he ever will but i miss him dearly think of him fondly from time to time

oh my goodness! Thank you for reading No Place is Home!! I 100% will update and complete the fic. I am taking a bit of time just because of other fics I'm also updating. It will be updated sometime this fall.

[catsushinyakajima]

Pidge never considered Lance and Hunk her friends.

Classmates, sure. Maybe even acquaintances—being tied to them as a teammate leads them to spend plenty of time outside of the mandatory school hours together. The association is a nuisance at most. Lance is loud, snarky, and bold. He begs for attention that puts Pidge’s plans at risk time and time again. Hunk is the wild opposite. His cowardice and paranoia twinges Pidge with irritation and seeps anxiety into her late night ventures to collect data.

Can’t they stay put? Can’t they function well? Lance’s starry eyes are always fixed on some ridiculous prize—one day, a girl’s attention, another, Keith Kogane’s scores. Pidge doesn’t even know Hunk well enough to learn his aspirations. He seems keen on a meticulous line of mechanical engineering that his shaky hands and scattered brain disagree with. It shouldn’t matter to her. So what if Pidge got stuck with a lousy team? They are a means to an end. Once she gets to space, they’ll be long forgotten.

The two idiots Hunk and Lance will be long left behind.

But for now, they tear up Pidge’s free time like unfed, scavenging vultures. Lance keeps dragging her to late night parties and snarking about the stick up her ass every time she slips away. Hunk will peer over her shoulder whenever she monitors the Garrison’s radio transmissions in their shared dormitory. When she shut her laptop in a hurry, Lance cackles that he interrupted her porn. Iverson lashes out at them because of their inadequacy and Pidge ends up on the receiving end of his fiery wrath despite holding up her end of the team.

It’s tiresome. It’s frustrating. She has so much work to do, so much, and now she has been dumped with what? Babysitting two near adults? Entertaining them?

Her brother and father are out there, somewhere in the vast reaches of space, unreachable and untraceable. Dead, maybe. It’s been months since their disappearance. Should they be anywhere near their spacecraft, their rations will have run out by now. The power of several crucial ship components will have died. They, along with Takashi Shirogane, will be left with nothing but their suits and minimal oxygen. Tools that aren’t meant to keep life sustained in outer space. 

They must be dead.

It’s very probable.

The paths of different events all vary. Their ship might’ve exploded, leading to an immediate death. There could’ve been a collision or an issue with pressure levels or a fire or a power outage. Or they might be just fine, without signal, and on their way back. They might’ve gotten a disease or entered a warp in space-time. They could’ve made contact with extraterrestrial life. Or, god forbid, the Garrison has abandoned them, leaving them stranded with malicious intent.

No matter what, their chances of survival are low.

It pains Pidge to think of. She doesn’t even have the privacy to cry herself to sleep at night about it. Her eyes remain rubbed raw and hugged by dark circles that grow more sallow and sunken by the day. She ignores the missing posters her mother has put up for her. Have you seen Katelyn Holt? She turns the other way.

Pidge tunes out the whole world. Chatty Lance and nervous Hunk, angry professors and egotistical commanders, worried family members and the suspicious police. Her old dog who must’ve picked up on the emptying house. Her high school that she ditched for good. Her name, gender, and identity.

Pidge tosses it all away. She will get to space. She will find her family.

It’s only when she’s tumbled into the back of a sentient robot lion with her team, a stranger, and pilot Takashi Shirogane does she realize how big of a leap towards her goals she’s taken. This is her chance. Lance dangles a golden ticket in front of her and she snatches it out of his hands. Pidge watches the ground go distant as he pulls the lever in the Blue Lion.

She never would’ve thought that it’d be Lance and Hunk, her idiot teammates, who’d bring her here.

It’d do her some good to be grateful. But here they are, goofing off, and—what’s this Voltron that everyone’s talking about? Pidge doesn’t have the time for such a large responsibility. If the princess could point a swift finger at her and call her a paladin, then she could find any new pilot for the Green Lion because Pidge is shackled to another commitment.

No one else thinks the same way. Lance and Hunk are staying. Shiro, her main lead, is staying. Keith, who had many angry words for her announcement of departure, is also staying.

She’s the odd one out.

She’s going to be searching all by herself in this unknown space.

All alone…

Then, the Castle gets attacked. She’s staying. Lance gets injured. She’s staying, guaranteed, but she’s not sure why her heart cries for him; she barely knows him.

Hunk’s lips tremble in the aftermath. His hands clench and unclench and he paces with no direction. Pidge pats him on the back while they wait for Lance to wake in the pod. Her sympathy bleeds towards him too.

It’s hard to explain—she hasn’t had friends before. Matt is her friend, but he’s her brother and he’s not even here. He’s missing.

Pidge knows that’s what this is: friendship. This is the olive branch, no matter how ridiculous looking and shaped, that she’s been neglecting for the sake of putting work first. She thought there’s no room in her life for friends, not now for certain and not friends who are so…distracting.

But Hunk ruffles her hair and gives suggestions for her prison detection program. Lance makes jokes that have actual humorous value—Pidge catches herself laughing at a few, to her dismay and his glee. They watch her back in battle. They vouch for her in discussions and they race around searching for Samuel and Matthew Holt without her having to explain the depth of her desperation. This thing is new—this lack of loneliness. This genuine camaraderie. Pidge finds herself wondering if the two of them would’ve given her this much heart and vigor had she opened up to them at the Garrison. She thinks, yes. They would’ve been there for her the same, whether on ground or in space. And she would do the same for them.

Because they are friends.

For my dear friend elli's (@bluemantics) event. Prompt: Garrison Trio

[catsushinyakajima]

JULIA UR KILLING ME!! oh em gee. yall.

hiihihi could u recommend more keith in a blender fics?

hiiii yes absolutely!!!!

it's still in progress, but I am absolutely OBSESSED with A Little Death by AsterikaMay, (37,584 words so far, rated T) 3/5 chapters are out so far and when this fic updates I cancel plans to read it. it's so good AGH it takes place during Keith's BoM era, and a druid does ✨ something ✨ to him that fucks him up, but no one knows what it is so the BoM drop him off with team voltron until he gets better. this is the whump / sickfic of my dreams I can't recommend it enough

AsterikaMay also wrote Letters to Lance (42,747 words, rated G) which isn't Keith in a blender necessarily but is an incredible Keith character study told through the format of Keith writing, you guessed it, letters to Lance (and maybe, perhaps, some letters he receives back). I just adore this fic so dearly and I think everyone should read it and if you love Keith you'll love this fic

enjoy!!! <33