#big brother shiro

[autisticlancemcclain]

The first bout of whispering, Shiro can ignore. He’s a teacher by trade, after all. Astronaut, sure. Paladin, even. But he always expected to be a teacher, trained for it, and he knows when you put a group of teenagers in a room and expect them to start learning by lecture, there’s going to be some whispering. He’d be concerned if there wasn’t, frankly.

But as it keeps happening, again and again, to the point where it’s almost constant, Shiro begins to lose his patience.

“Lance, Hunk,” he says, catching himself long before then. He tries to smile, gentle but firm. “Everything okay?”

The two boys clam up immediately. Lance even begins to lean slightly away from Hunk, although Shiro’s not sure he notices.

Shiro frowns, puzzled at the reaction. That’s — uncommon. He’s seen embarrassed, seen sheepish, seen unbothered, even seen downright rude, but Lance looks almost… afraid. And Hunk looks at him with a lot more anxiety than the situation calls for, but Shiro is beginning to notice that that’s just Hunk.

The both mutter some semblance of apology, and Shiro moves on quickly, unwilling to dwell on the incident too long.

For the rest of the briefing, he keeps an eye on them. He’s still focused, of course, as their break-in and recon on a nearby Empire warship is not only hugely dangerous, but will also be hugely beneficial, but he lets his notes do a lot of the talking for him. He flits his eyes to the pair every so often, and while Hunk meets his eyes on occasion, smiling slightly, Lance keeps his head down, hunched over his tablet.

Shiro notices that the tablet is powered off. He doesn’t write a single note.

His shoulders are hunched up to his ears.

———

“Alright, kiddo, good job.”

Keith grins, stepping backwards and bowing to finish the fight. Shiro bows back, matching his smile.

“You did great.”

“I know,” Keith says cheekily. “You’re getting easier and easier to beat. Probably because you’re elderly.”

Shiro raises an eyebrow. “Am I.”

His annoying little brother hums, completely unconcerned. He steps off to the side and starts swinging around his training stick, very clearly showing off. “Mhm. It was super easy to fight you. I just went whoosh, smack, bam! —” he punctuates every sound with a swing and slash of the stick — “and every hit just landed. Honestly, I think a punching bag would have been more of a challenge. Adam is a way better spar partner than you. I wish I was shot into space with him.”

Shiro’s eye twitches. It’s a clear goad, he knows it is. Keith isn’t even trying to hide it. He’s a twerp with too much energy and too much experience pressing all of Shiro’s buttons — a favourite button of his, of course, being the bit of…healthy competition Shiro has always had with his boyfriend.

(He’s well aware of the irony. He hears Adam pointing and laughing in his head every time he endures Keith’s complaining about Lance pulling his mullet, so to speak. In fact keeping his mouth shut about the parallels is the only thing keeping him from throwing Keith down the laundry chute. He’s waiting for a moment when the reveal can be well and truly devastating.)

Shiro manages, with herculean strength, to step away from his turd of a brother, putting his training stick away.

“I am leaving,” he says loudly, pointedly turning away. “I said I’d train one hour with you and not a second more.”

He feels Keith’s pout more than sees it. “Coward.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shiro snorts, waving his hand dismissively. He hears swishing sounds, and the clicks of buttons — Keith is starting up his own training. Again. “Don’t be late for dinner or I’ll send Lance after you.”

“Can’t promise I won’t maim him,” Keith mutters. “Sometimes I just want to wring his neck.”

Shiro is very familiar with that feeling. Or at least the raving about it. He used to feel great pleasure in driving Adam to that point, just because he was hot when he was mad. But Shiro values his limbs — or at least what’s left of them — where they are, so he keeps the comments to himself as he makes his way out of the training room, meandering back to his own quarters.

He takes his time showering and redressing, knowing he’s got some time before dinner. He thinks Hunk even managed to wrestle Coran out of the kitchen, which means no food goo. It also means that he’s banned from even breathing near the kitchen until the food is fully cooked and completed — which is a bullshit ban and one based in false accusations — but he’s sure he can help set the table, or something. Stir a pot. He’s good at that.

He towels off his hair, not bothering to style it, and takes his time walking over to the kitchens. The castle floors are cold under his bare feet, he finds himself wishing he had the lion slippers Lance made him. They’re very warm. He never wears them because he’s terrified of ruining them, but it’s so icy in here that he might start having to, or else he’ll freeze.

As he approaches the kitchen, he hears voices. He freezes, quieting his steps and pausing behind the wall to listen. Hopefully no one else walks by, or that will be humiliating.

“— all you have to do is ask, Lance, just casually, it’s not even —”

“— it is even, Hunk, it’s the worst and I’m not doing it, why would I inconvenience —”

“— it isn’t! Not even a little! It’s the smallest tiniest thing!”

“Hunk —”

Hunk throws his hands up in exasperation, spoon going flying and splattering some kind of blue sauce all over the cabinets. Neither of them even blinks at it.

“I am tired of watching you struggle, Leandro! Heaven forbid you ask for help!”

Shiro frowns. That’s not good. That sounds serious.

“I asked for help,” Lance huffs, arms crossed over his chest. “I asked you, didn’t I?”

“I don’t count and you know it,” Hunk says sharply, mirroring him. “I already knew.”

Lance looks away, clenching his jaw. His fingers are tangled in his jacket’s sleeve, tense.

“You don’t have to help anymore if it’s too hard,” he mumbles. “I can handle it myself.”

Hunk softens. “It’s not that, Lance.” He wipes his hands in his apron and pulls Lance to his chest. Lance goes, although he doesn’t move his arms, burying his face in Hunk’s shoulder. “You know it’s not that. If that’s all we have then I’ll keep doing it, damn the consequences.” He pulls back slightly, nudging Lance back so he can look him in the face. “You can just do better, dude. All you gotta do is tell Shiro about your —”

A hand claps over Hunk’s mouth, cutting him off, and Lance squeaks, “Hey, Shiro, hello, hi!”

Shiro startles. He scrambles upright before Hunk turns all the way, so at least he’s only seen crouching by the door like a weirdo by one person.

He clears his throat. “Uh, hi.”

“You’re banned from the kitchen,” Hunk says, muffled. How he looks so mighty and dignified with Lance’s hands still very much pressed to his face is well and truly beyond him. Shiro is frankly awed.

“I just came to help set the table,” he assures, hands held up in surrender. “Promise I’ll stay away from the actual food.”

Hunk narrows his eyes, but must decide he could use the help, because he nods, stepping backwards so Lance’s hands fall back down.

“Alright,” he sighs. “I’m making stew. You can set out utensils if you must but know I’ll judge you heavily for it. Lance, come help me finish up.”

Lance scrambles after him, avoiding Shiro’s gaze like he’s sure he’s going to get yelled at. Shiro watches him go, perplexed.

———

The next few days are, for the most part, manageable. Their mission goes well, Keith is surprisingly mellow — Shiro suspects the little nerd has discovered a library of some kind — and distress calls are minimal. All in all, Shiro should be taking the time as the blessing it is and catching up on some much needed R&R.

Instead, he’s worrying about the Blue Paladin.

Shiro can’t say he knows him well. They’ve hardly been in space a couple of months, after all, and while Shiro must have taught him a couple times — he was in the piloting program so it’s almost impossible that they didn’t cross paths — the Garrison is huge, and Shiro largely teachers younger students. Shiro can’t recall teaching a Lance, anyway.

But he can tell something’s off.

Besides the fact that Hunk keeps looking at Lance with concern, the Cuban seems…withdrawn, almost. He still works hard in training and smokes them in any kind of long distance, but there doesn’t seem to be any joy in it. Even his arguments with Keith seem halfhearted, which Keith will never admit leave him agitated as much as it has Shiro’s eyebrows raising. Shiro is sure, basically, that something is the matter, and surer still that he has to be the one to fix it.

How exactly he should go about it…well, that’s the part he’s struggling with. He knows Lance is kind of star-eyed around him, even though they’re on the same playing field, so Shiro’s not sure just regular talking to him about it is going to do something. And he seemed pretty resistant when Hunk pressed, in the conversation Shiro overheard. He’s just not sure what to do.

Luckily, the situation starts to resolve itself.

“Hey, Shiro, can I talk to you?” Lance mumbles into his breakfast, as everyone else is distracted by Pidge and Keith’s loud argument about cryptids (Shiro has heard it too many times at this point. He’s tuned it out).

Shiro blinks. “Sure,” he says, trying to keep the shock out of his voice. “Now?”

“Uh, after we eat, maybe.”

Shiro tries very hard not to seem over enthusiastic. He sucks at that, so it doesn’t work, and it seems to make Lance more stressed, which only stresses Shiro out more. By the time everyone has finished up and people are starting to file out to various tasks, the tension between them is so thick Shiro feels as if he might suffocate.

Suddenly, as if he propelled himself, Lance springs to his feet, snatching his bowl and Shiro’s and powerwalking towards the kitchen sink. Shiro, startled, follows him.

“You okay?” Shiro asks softly, noticing the whiteness of Lance’s knuckles, clenched around a sponge, and the robotic way he scrubs it across a dirty spoon.

Lance says nothing. He keeps his eyes trained resolutely on the soapy water, spine ramrod straight, nerves bleeding from him in waves.

Hesitantly, Shiro rolls up his sleeves, standing beside him and beginning to dry what he rinses. As Shiro gets close he gets tenser, shoulders hiked up to his ears, but as the minutes drag on, empty kitchen echoing the sound of swishing water and clanking cutlery, he begins to calm down. Shiro watches his face relax, easing its worries twist, and terror fade from his brown eyes.

He hands Shiro the last clean dish to dry, then pulls the plug on the sink, darting over to grab a hand towel and starting to dry.

“Can you write mission plans in pink?”

The words rush out of him, like he’d been holding them between his teeth for God knows how long and they’d finally spilled out. He looks almost nauseous after he says them.

Shiro blinks. That was…not what he’d expected.

“…Why?”

“It’s perfectly okay if you can’t,” Lance continues, as if Shiro had not spoken. “I mean, whatever. I’ll figure it out. I’ve gone without this long, after all, and it’s totally doable. Of course there’s the migraines and the agony but that’s all light work. It’s war, after all. Ha.” He chuckles nervously.

He’s shrunk in on himself, looking almost small. Shiro stares at him with a dropped jaw and wide eyes. Lance doesn’t even notice, eyes focused intensely on the hand towel, breathing worryingly erratic.

“I just swore to Hunk that I’d ask, you know. He said it wouldn’t hurt. And of course it wouldn’t but I don’t need it. It’s just. You know.”

Shiro cannot stress enough how much he doesn’t know. He hasn’t felt this lost in a while.

“Pink makes the letters stick to the page. And I know that sounds stupid as shit and that’s because it is stupid as shit, unfortunately. Dyslexia is the dumbest thing in the world, actually. And who named it that? You know how hard that word is to spell? It’s hard. They should have called it — I dunno, I just mean, it’s whatever. It’s fine. I’ve handled it this long. Uh.” He looks up, finally, and maybe he doesn’t know how to make sense of Shiro’s expression, because he winces, shame overtaking his face. He sets down the towel and gestures vaguely behind him, stepping towards the door. “I’m just gonna — go. Sorry. See you later. Sorry.”

He all but flees out of the room. Shiro barely manages to snag the back of his hoodie, holding him in place.

“Lance. Chill a second. Give me time to respond.”

Lance looks deploringly at the door, then back at Shiro. He looks like he’s accepting his death. Shiro can’t help but feel the teensiest bit offended.

“I’m not going to bite you,” he says, aghast. “Jesus, kid. You’re going to give me a complex.”

To Shiro’s great relief, the remark makes Lance grin. Some of the tension eases from his face.

“You sound like my mother.”

“From what I’ve heard, that’s a compliment,” Shiro says lightly. He pulls out two chairs, orienting them so they’re facing each other. He deliberately takes the one farthest from the door, so Lance doesn’t feel trapped. He gestures to the other one. “Sit.”

Lance does.

“Now. From the beginning and with a little less fear, hopefully. Tell me what’s up, kiddo.”

Lance looks down at his hands, where he’s picking at a scar on his wrist.

“Um. So. I have dyslexia. I can’t read too well.”

Lance cringes as he says it. Shiro wonders who he has to kill for putting the idea that this is something to be ashamed about in his head.

“Cool,” Shiro says, as encouragingly as he can manage. “The main character of my favourite book series as a kid had dyslexia. I was jealous of everyone who had it. I used to pray for it.”

The revelation startles a laugh out of Lance, like Shiro hoped it would. The tension melts right off of him.

“You prayed?”

“Every night,” Shiro affirms, grinning. “I even crossed my eyes and pretended when it didn’t work. My mother didn’t believe me for a second.”

“You’re a dweeb,” Lance says, sounding kind of awed. Like he’s shocked that Shiro, too, is a nerd loser on this castle full of other nerd losers. “Dyslexia sucks.”

Letting his face settle into something more serious, Shiro nods. “I imagine it does.” He reaches over and squeezes Lance’s hand, subtly stopping him from picking at the skin. Keith has the same bad habit. “Writing in pink helps?”

Lance shrugs. “Sorta. Dunno why. But things are less squiggly when they’re written in pink or red. Not perfect, but it’s something. I can hardly read at all when they’re in black; it’s like my eyes are spinning out of my head trying to focus on ‘em. Gives me migraines like you would not imagine.”

“And thus Hunk whispering the plans to you so you don’t have to read them,” Shiro surmises, the whispering during briefings suddenly making sense. Guilt twinges in his belly.

“Yeah. Sorry about that, by the way. Didn’t mean to be rude.”

“Of course not,” Shiro says gently. “I get it now. Sorry for not understanding.” He frowns, remembering something. “I should’ve asked beforehand. Or suspected something, or known better, really. I had a kid a few years back in one of my astronomy courses. Li-something. I marked all his stuff in red for the same reasons.”

Lance makes a very particular face. Warning bells go off in Shiro’s head.

“I appreciated that very much,” Lance says politely.

It takes a moment for it to click.

Shiro considers banging his head against the table.

“Please tell me no,” he begs, ears reddening.

“It was a great honour to be renamed by the Takashi Shirogane,” Lance insists.

“I had you in my class for three years!” Shiro says, aghast. “I — I called you Li all the time! In front of people!”

“I didn’t want to correct you! That’s — embarrassing!”

Shiro cradles his head in his hands. Dear God. He knows he’s not great with names, but — Jesus. To rename a kid. Blatantly. Other teachers must have thought he was some cruel jackass.

“I think there was a Li McKinney ahead of me in roll call,” Lance offers, patting Shiro’s back delicately. “So. Pretty easy to mess up.”

“Did you write your name as Li on tests? And assignments?”

“After the first couple times, yeah. Hunk laughed at me. At a certain point I’d just dug myself too deep, I think.”

Shiro sighs, dragging his hand down his face. It’s still quite hot. He looks up at Lance, who’s mouth is twitching.

“You were short as shit back then,” he observes, trying to picture the kid in his class. “Like, shorter than Pidge.”

Lance scowls. “I was — saving up on growth spurts. Yeah. So. Purge that from your memory.” He smirks. “Like my name.”

Shiro groans. “I’m never hearing the end of that, am I.”

Lance smiles. “Probably not. I didn’t know you were uncool. It’s interesting. I’m seeing you in a whole new light.”

Shiro rolls his eyes, but reaches over to mess with Lance’s hair, like he would Keith. Unlike Keith, Lance freaks out way harder, screeching something about hard work and artistic expression.

He smiles. “Glad you came to talk to me, kid.”

Lance sticks out his tongue, but he looks pleased, too. “Yeah, yeah.”

[vldsideblog]

I believe in Keith being a unhinged little brother. Shiro being an exasperated but ultimately enabling older brother. Adam being tired of their bullshit. And Matt just watching this all go on with a bowl of cereal.

[alluraaaa]

voltron seasons one and two have allura set up as the princess, the pilot, the diplomat. but princesses grow up to be queens. the lion switch should have just been allura taking over as black paladin and grown into the leader she was always meant to be. and she and shiro should have been co-leaders, a way of letting them both lead— something they both want to do and excel at— while also alleviating some of the burdens of leadership, because they both deserve a fucking break. in this essay i will

[scattered-winter]

klance lighthouse au........keith is a lighthouse keeper and lance is a mer who is wounded by fishermen and swept into a storm and washes up on the shore where keith finds him.......if u even care.........

[discordiansamba]

actually. what if Haggar first wanted to test the procedure with which she turned Shiro into a Galra in the commander and druid AU. how convenient that she has another human on hand in relatively the same age group as Shiro.

anyways what I'm saying is. Galra Matt.

[lolabearwrites]

The flash back ep of young Keith and Shiro is my new absolute favorite episodes. I had the stupidest smile on my face lemme tell you

[sentofight]

ooc. magic vs alchemy thread when?? aside from that, i wanna think more about older edward. traveling further and into a different direction from Al makes me cry a little bit. like, they haven't been away for a long time (lets not talk about THAT moment thank you very much). he'd most likely be defaulted to papa ed mode XD maes hughes raised him well ok?

[aceteling]

I'm crying how can a creature be this cute ;; mum, good choice of dog

[autisticlancemcclain]

There’s a knock on his door.

Keith freezes. There’s never a knock at his door.

“…Yeah?” he calls out cautiously, dog-earing his book and setting it down on his mattress. Shiro doesn’t knock, Shiro just calls out from wherever he is. Or texts him. And it’s not like Keith even has friends over, because he’d have to have friends to have them over. Shiro is also, as it turns out, equally as uncool, and never has company.

The door handle turns, and Adam pokes his head through the crack.

“You busy?” he asks.

Keith blinks. “Oh. Hi.”

That makes sense. Adam is here a lot. Keith has kind of forgotten to count him as company, actually. He kind of just appears at random times. Keith is half convinced that Adam is actually some kind of hologram Shiro has created to argue with, mostly because imagining that is really funny.

But he’s never come to Keith’s room before.

“Hi,” he says back, smiling slightly. “Shiro had to run out to handle something because the Garrison would delve into chaos without him, apparently. So he’ll be gone until after dinner.”

He looks at Keith expectantly. Keith stares back, eyes big, because he has no idea what the hell to say to that. Like, he’s correct, Shiro is the one and only thing holding the stupid school together, but Keith’s not quite sure why Adam has come to announce that to him.

“So are you free?” Adam repeats.

“Oh,” Keith says, startling a little. This is a — Adam is seeking him out. Intentionally. Planned. The fiancé of his foster — father? brother? mentor? Keith should ask more questions — has made plans, and they include Keith. Keith is being considered as someone to be hung out with.

“Yeah,” he says, voice cracking. “I’m free.”

“Cool,” Adam says, nodding. “C’mon.”

Keith scrambles off his bed and to the door, not wanting to give Adam time to change his mind. Not that it matters, or Keith cares about hanging out with him. Or anybody for that matter. But he’s curious, so.

“What are we doing?” Keith asks, jogging after him. Adam is a power walker. There’s not a lot of space to power walk in the small apartment, but Adam manages to leave him in the dust anyway. More fuel to Keith’s hologram theory.

“Well, obviously I love your brother more than the moon and stars,” Adam says matter-of-factly, striding over to the kitchen and opening counters.

Keith blinks. Well. That’s one question answered, he supposes.

“But I’m worried.” Adam sets down his armful of supplies; a small mixing bowl, chopsticks, a knife, a cutting board, and an array of vegetables. “Takashi tries very hard at everything he does. It usually gets him quite far. But cooking?” He shakes his head, grabbing a strainer and a head of cabbage and stepping over to the sink. “I don’t know who cursed him, but he’s physically incapable. And you’re thirteen. You’re growing. You can’t eat boxed noodles and peanut butter sandwiches all day. It’s bad for you. Come here.”

“I eat a lot of fruit,” Keith offers, feeling strangely like he has to defend Shiro, or something. Not even necessarily against Adam. Perhaps against the Allegations. “He’s very big on oranges. And mandarins. All citrus, really. There’s a lot of it.”

Adam rolls his eyes. “That is because Takashi read a book about scurvy when he was fourteen and is now terrified of it, because he is a goober. He’s also afraid of squirrels, if you’re wondering. He found out that some of them are carnivorous and never recovered.”

A tiny, barely there smile quirks his lips. Keith bites the corners of his mouth so it doesn’t get any ideas, then steps hesitantly towards the kitchen island, across from Adam. He watches him scrub the leafy vegetable, careful to get in all the nooks and crannies, then pat it dry. He moves to set the cabbage down and then seems to think better of it, leaning back against the sink.

“Get me the salt,” he says, gesturing to a bowl on the counter with pursed lips.

Keith narrows his eyes at it suspiciously. “Why?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” Adam observes.

“You answer very vaguely,” Keith returns.

Adam barks a laugh. Keith finds himself pleased at the reaction.

“I’m going to scrub the cabbage with it,” Adam explains. “It’ll draw out the moisture and take out any leftover dirt, too.”

Satisfied at the answer, Keith grabs the salt bowl, bringing it over. He moves to go back to his spot but Adam stops him with a wet hand around his wrist, gently guiding his hands towards the cabbage. Keith wills his shoulders to relax.

“One hand open to support it, one hand in the salt bowl,” Adam instructs quietly. “Grab a handful and start rubbing it in.”

Hesitantly, Keith grabs the offered cabbage, hyperaware of how his shoulder brushes against Adam’s bicep when he moves; how he doesn’t move away, but he’s not crowding, either. Just…close.

“I can actively feel my fingers pruning,” Keith says in disgust.

Adam snorts. “Yeah, they do that.”

Step by step, Adam guides him through chopping vegetables, measuring spices, mixing sauces, and handling the stove until Keith is working his way through a basic stir-fry like a pro. He’s more shocked than he should be when he tries his first bite of it and likes it.

“You have managed to avoid being cursed, too,” Adam says around his own bite, pleasantly surprised. “I was worried that living with Takashi would curse you by proxy. But this is good.”

“I mean. It was stir-fry. We chopped and we fried. Hard to fuck up,” Keith points out.

“You’d think. When I tried to do this with Shiro, the pan was charred so bad we had to throw it out. I don’t even know what he did. I was right there. It’s like he destroyed it by rancid vibes alone.”

Keith hides a smile in his noodles. Adam notices anyway, and grins.

“Sounds about right.”

“You’re good, though, kiddo,” Adam says, and his hand is heavy on Keith’s head. “You’re good.”

Keith swallows the sudden lump in his throat. His face gets red.

He leans into the touch.

———

other parts in this universe

[vldsideblog]

You know the “gravity is increasing on me.” Thing from Lilo And Stitch?

Shiro has definitely done that to Keith multiple times. He’s an annoying big brother and I love that for him.

[one-thousand-and-one-fandoms]

I don't want to be there when you cry (new tears over old lovers)

Keith fell in love with Lance when he was fourteen and Lance stayed up with him all night to help him cram for a Spanish test that he really couldn't afford to fail. Keith didn't want to fall in love with his best friend; it just happened! The realization terrified him and he resolved never to tell Lance about it.

Lance fell in love with Nyma when he was sixteen and they dated for two years. In Keith's opinion, Nyma was a bitch. No, he wasn't jealous, he was simply observant. Nyma always asked Lance to buy her stuff and take her to fancy places while she belittled and insulted Lance's language, heritage, family and everything in between. Lance gradually lost the spark in his eyes and Keith hated seeing him so sad all the time. Then Nyma cheated on Lance with Rolo and didn't even bother to hide it. Lance was devastated.

When Lance turned nineteen, just a few months after his heart was thoroughly shattered by Nyma, Lance kissed Keith on the lips. Keith wanted to say it was sweet, but he only felt grossed out. He still loved Lance, but Lance didn't love him and was still hung up on Nyma.

Keith abruptly ended the kiss and he must have looked horrified because Lance immediately looked sorry and began apologizing. Keith wanted to cry, but not in front of Lance, so he just up and left. Lance tried to come after him, but Keith was sneaky when he wanted to be.

That night Keith sent his application to the Garrison Galaxy which his foster brother Shiro also attended. He was accepted. He began to pack his bags immediately and wrote a long letter to Lance:

Dear Lance,

I know what you're doing, but I can't play along this time and pretend it's fine. I like you, a lot, and I have for years. I would like for you to fall in love with me for me, and not because you're trying to get over your ex. I wouldn't mind taking you out on a nice date or two.

I got accepted into the Galaxy Garrison and will be leaving in a month. I think we both need some space. But I will come back, and if you're ready then, and willing, I'll take you out on a real date and show you that you can fall in love with me for me.

Love,

Keith.

This is one of my favorie bands, and I wanted to write a fic to this song. Essentially, for those who don't know Spanish, in the song the guy is telling the girl that he doesn't want to be used to get over her ex. He tells her he'll wait until she's ready and that it can be love at second sight.

This is my favorite verse: "Porque no quiero estar ahí cuando tu llores/ Lágrimas nuevas pero de viejos amores/ Y que el recuerdo de alguien más riegue mis flores."

(Translation: Because I don't want want to be there when you cry/ new tears over old lovers / and that another's memories water my flowers. [ugh,this translation doesn't sound right but it's 1 am and this is the best I can do atm])

[alluraaaa]

decided to expand on the tags of my other post and talk about how shiro should have gotten a healing arc instead of the clone plot. here’s how i would’ve done it (under the cut because it got Long):

at the end of season two shiro uses his and zarkon's mutual connection to the black lion to kick absolute ass. however, shiro ends up stuck in the astral plane

he doesn’t know that though. he’s just in a starlit void with no prosthetic arm and is like “0_0 where am i”

“fancy types call it the astral plane,” a guy says. shiro turns to look at this guy and it really is just some guy. like he's just in jeans and shit, looks like he's about to go grab coffee before running errands

and shiro's like “????? what??? where’s zarkon?”

the guy explains that the astral plane is the halfway point between life and death. it’s where spirits go to move on before fully embracing the afterlife. zarkon is fully dead, thanks to shiro. and shiro himself is here because he has a chance to take a second and relax before making a decision. he can either come back to the land of the living, or he can fully move on and join the afterlife

as shiro's processing this the guy is like “y’know kid, you're young, you gotta lotta life ahead of you. your team and your family would love to see you again. but after what you've been through, i don't blame you for wanting to call it quits early. i mean, you did it, you beat the bad guy, and the others are able to keep going without you, you pushed ‘em in the right direction. you can... hit the hay, as it were. but don't let me tell you what to do. it's your choice, son.”

shiro's like “that's a big decision. i can't just… pick one so easily.” because yeah, he loves being a paladin and of course wants to see his loved ones again, but god. he's so tired. knowing that the team will be able to continue without him fills him with relief and the sudden desire to rest

the guy says, “i get it. we can wait, you can think. we don't gotta talk.” so they both sit there and think, watching the stars of the astral plane twinkle around them.

shiro takes a moment, then asks, “are you dead?” the guy says, “yeah. died a few years back.” he doesn’t elaborate and shiro doesn’t press. instead he asks, “did you have a choice?”

guy says, “nah. you’re lucky as hell. wish i coulda stayed. but… i know that everything is working out without me, y’know?”

shiro’s like “i get it. i really wanna go back but… i also wanna take a break. i mean, we all die, right? everyone i wanna see… we’ll all end up dead together in the end, right?”

guy: “yeah. and when you’re on the other side, you can watch over ‘em.”

shiro: “am i selfish for wanting that? i mean, i can still help, i can save the universe, but part of me just wants to roll over and die.”

the guy chuckles. “boy, you’re not selfish for wanting a break. you’ve been fighting like hell for years, even before the space nonsense. it’s okay to want somethin’ that’s just for you. and if you help you, you’re still helping the universe, y’know? we’re all in this together.”

shiro doesn’t say anything, and the two of them fall into silence again

for the first time in years, there’s no rush. when he was a student, he was working hard towards good grades and graduation. when he was at the garrison, he was working hard towards teaching and reaching the stars. in space, he was working hard to just survive. and then with voltron, he had the entire universe on his shoulders. he was the leader, he had to be ready for anything.

but here, he wasn’t ready for here. and it’s turning out… okay? he has time to make a decision, and he isn’t being rushed, there doesn’t seem to be a deadline.

he wishes so bad that he had this more often when he was alive: time to breathe

but he’s still alive, isn’t he? he’s half alive, able to go back out there. if he can get through this war, he can be alive with his friends, his family, and they can all breathe together.

“i want to live,” he says.

the guy smiles, and stands. “i figured you would. you don’t seem like the type to sit and watch. here.” and he reaches out a hand to help shiro stand.

shiro takes it, and rises to his feet. “i, uh, never got your name.”

“ryou kogane,” the guy says, and shiro now knows why he felt so familiar. “i’ve been watching you since you met my boy, and i’m so happy he’s had someone like you there for him when i couldn’t be. thank you.”

and shiro’s about to burst into tears, so he pulls ryou into a hug. ryou hugs back, laughing.

“tell him i love him. and that he’s doing great, because he is. i couldn’t be more proud of that kid. he’s just like his momma.”

“i will. and thank you, for everything.”

“of course, son. now go, you got a life to live. i’ll see you when you’re done.”

and so shiro goes. when he comes back to the land of the living, he’s in the black lion. it’s because of her that he was able to come back, she was his tether to life. and he learns this in the calm purring in his mind.

he puts his hand on the dashboard and whispers, “thank you. it’s good to be back.”

meanwhile, in the castle, allura feels something’s off. she’s been trying to get closer to the black lion as it’s replacement paladin, and it would normally excite her to feel something shift in their bond from all the way in the dining hall, so far from the hangers. it would, but she’s more worried about what’s happening. when she suddenly stands up and starts to leave for the hangers, the others follow her

in the hanger, they all stand in front of the black lion, watching allura. something in her doesn’t want to move, doesn’t want to interrupt.

it clicks when the black lion bows and lowers its jaw, opening the ramp for shiro to come down the plank.

he looks different. his arm is gone, his hair is all white, and he’s calm.

keith reacts first, sprinting at his brother with a shout of his name, diving into a tight bear hug.

the others follow not far behind. it’s a happy, tearful reunion at the feet of the black lion.

shiro has moments alone with all of them after that, telling them how proud he is of them for keeping up the fight without him. of how they’ve all grown into better fighters and, more importantly: better people.

but keith is the only one who learns about what shiro did in the astral plane, and who he was with. shiro relays everything his dad said, and hugs keith when he breaks into tears

in the future, he and allura lead voltron side by side. they take turns as the black paladin, giving each other well needed breaks from the fight because neither of them would step down completely

when it’s shiro’s turn to fight, he wonders how. he doesn’t have his prosthetic, so no weapon. (“so… you’re unarmed?” lance asks.)

the answer comes when allura gives him the black bayard. he activates it, and it replaces his old prosthetic. proof of his connection to his lion. he beams.

and farther in the future, when they’re all safe at home on earth, shiro gets his wish: he’s with his loved ones, happily married to adam and surrounded by the kids more or less adopted as his own years ago. they’re all safe, all here, and they’re all breathing

[scattered-winter]

I know the fandom loves to see adam as the Team Mom since shiro is seen as the Team Dad but honestly. if anything. he's the team Wine Aunt

[aro-aizawa]

sighsss thinking abt my voltron aus again

[im-smart-i-swear]

Does Tashi have the memories upto the kerberos mission or before the mission? (Also love that he's being 'I do not see' about the entire clone thing, love that for him)

Im not really sure about it tbh! The option i'm leaning the most into is that he has Shiro's memories up to a few months/weeks before the mission. It just makes everything so much worse for him beacuse he doesnt even know about Shiro and Adam' Whole Thing.

For him it looks like one moment he was preparing for the biggest mission of his life and the next thing he knows, he wakes up surrounded by dozens of fucking corpses who look like him why do they all look like him

also i like to headcanon that the reason for why there were so many of the clones there is bc those are the failed attempts - discarded bc of mistakes in the cloning process or failed memory transfers or something(most of em were propably braindead or unable to survive)(dont ask me how the guys even survived falling from however high that place was. that's not importrant)

Tashi knows something's wrong from the beginning - some of his memories are disjointed or missing, there are names and places he should remember but he doesnt, and they all feel distant - but he pushes all his doubts and suspicions deep down beacuse there are people who need him here.

pretty much the same goes for taks and taka too! all three of them came to a mutual understanding that its best to just try and not to mention the fact they have the exact same name and life stories. theres more importrant things to think about like, y'know, not dying!!

Thank you for the ask!

[sleepdeprivedflower]

“Keith, no!” Hunk pleaded even as the red paladin strode out of the room, a set expression on his face and each of his steps resounding with the sheer weight of his determination.

Keith didn’t listen to Hunk. With a groan and a whispered “Not again”, Hunk trotted after him.

“Come on, Keith, it’s a bad idea, like, the kind of bad idea where you end up dead.”

Keith ignored him.

Huffing, Hunk tried to catch him instead. If the boy didn’t want to listen, then he'd have to stop him manu militari. But Keith hadn’t been chosen by the fastest of the lions for nothing. He effortlessly dodged Hunk and picked up the pace. As he turned around the corner, he stumbled upon Pidge, who took one look at him and frowned.

“Keith, no!” she tried, but Keith ignored her too.

Like Hunk, she went after him.

“But Keith, you don’t even know for sure! What if it’s not there? You’d be risking your life for nothing! We don’t have enough data yet!”

Of course, Keith only accelerated more, the green and yellow paladins still struggling after him, panting as they tried to run and shout at him at the same time.

As he left the bathroom after a long, relaxing bath, Shiro saw the three teenagers and immediately tensed back up. He knew that look on Keith’s face. It was his ‘I’m off to be extra reckless and I’ll probably die in the process’ look. Shiro stepped in the middle of the corridor and spread his arms, blocking the way.

“Keith, no!” he ordered, his dad voice seeping through the two words — not that he would ever admit that he did have a dad voice.

In any case, Keith didn’t let that deter him. He easily ducked under Shiro’s arm, and damn Shiro's relaxing bath for making him sluggish!

“Keith, come back here this instant,” he tried instead, following after him as well, his voice joining the other two. “I won’t let you go out there and risk your life. If you don’t stop right now I will ground you for the foreseeable future!”

Just as Keith was about to enter the hangar, Shiro’s threats having flown well above his head, Allura and Coran stepped in front of the doors, arms crossed.

“Keith, no!” they both shouted.

“Number four, you don’t seem to realise how dangerous that mission is,” Coran continued. “If you just wait a couple more quintants, then we will be able to assess the situation better and-”

But Keith kept running towards them, not even slightly phased by the Altean’s words. Allura took a step forward then, standing regally before him.

“Paladin, you shall stop immediately. It is an order, understood?”

Her icy, authoritative tone would have made anyone react. Even Zarkon would have flinched. Granted, he wouldn’t have listened, but he would’ve reacted. Keith, however, didn’t falter. Instead he just pushed his way to the hangar and bolted towards his lion-

-only to stop dead in his tracks.

“Where are you going, Mullet?”

Keith sneered as Lance peeled himself off of Red’s paw and stepped right in front of him.

“Lance, move,” Keith gritted, his jaw clenched. “I don’t have time for this.”

Lance nodded, as if he understood perfectly the urgency of the situation — which, he did, but he had some self-control left, and he was putting to good use, for once.

“Of course you wouldn’t have time. Too eager to go on that mission, huh? Well, go ahead, then, don’t let me hold you back.”

Lance stepped aside and motioned for Keith to proceed, ignoring the others’ loud protests. Keith had yet to move, though.

“You’re not going to stop me?” he asked suspiciously.

Lance chuckled.

“Nah, man, go ahead, do it. I mean, why would I try to stop you? I don’t want to lose, you know.”

Keith frowned.

“Lose what?”

“Well, you know,” Lance drawled, a little smirk now stretching his lips. “Everyone knows you can’t not do better than me.”

A moment.

“I can’t- what?”

Keith crossed his arms, now looking very confused. To be fair, everyone but Lance looked very confused.

“You can’t not do better than me,” Lance repeated slowly. “I mean, sure, you’re good at doing stuff, like, you can do very well, you’re very capable of doing, but you can’t not do. Hell, you’re shit at not doing. Whereas I, yours truly, can not do. In fact, I can not do so well, that you could call me the can-not-doer.”

Keith grew more confused with each word that escaped the blue paladin’s lips, to the point that he looked almost distressed. Yet, he still recognised the underlying challenge, the implied taunt.

“Oh yeah? Well I’ll show you just who can do not- can- can’t not- I’ll show you!” he sputtered.

He stormed off, having somewhat understood that this had to do with him not rushing into his lion but still mulling over Lance’s nonsensical speech, trying to make it make sense.

Back in the hangar, everyone looked at Lance, who in turn was still looking at the doors through which the red paladin has stormed off, looking proud of himself.

“Er... What was that?” Pidge asked first.

Lance turned towards them, and he was radiating satisfaction and smugness. He grinned.

“That was reverse psychology, Pidgeon. Aka the only psychology that ever gets through his thick skull. Works like a charm against younger siblings and brooding Mullets”