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hystericalcherries · 3 years

Text

aeon (6/6)

Pairing: Keith/Lance Words: 10.5k Rating: M Warnings: mild violence Tags: Post-Season/Series 07, quantum abyss, Flashbacks, Flashforwards, Prophetic Visions, Visions in dreams, Mind Control, Dimension Travel, Boys Being Boys, Falling In Love, Mutual Pining, Gay Keith (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron) when the going gets tough... the tough write fix-it fics, Allura (Voltron) Lives, because fuck you jds and lm

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Summary:

Keith does not leave the quantum abyss untouched.

“Home can be anything, you know,” Lance says in lieu of a conversation starter.

Slivers of moonlight filter through the blinds above their heads, casting lines of truth across the sheets. Lance tilts his head forward and a band slides over his eyes, catching the ocean in them and drawing Keith into their rolling tides. And as distracted as he is, he doesn't put up a fight when a hand clasps his own, reeling them heartward.

“Home is just something you can come back to.” His knuckles brush against the soft fabric of a nightshirt, the v-neckline falling loose to reveal a sharp collarbone, and Keith feels his breath hitching. “Something that keeps you grounded.”

READ IT ON AO3

The day of the Alliance Feast comes and Keith finds himself sulking in a corner as he watches an alien chat Lance up.

Allura had stuffed them all in Altean formal wear, color-coded and high-collared, capes draped tastefully across their shoulders. The material of the suits are surprisingly breathable despite all its excess, stretching and bunching up in just the right places to cut them all into impressive figures. The princess had been very particular in how she wanted them all to look and had forced herself into more than one fitting room back at the Garrison; Shiro’s hair is slicked back, Hunk’s headband folded into the pocket of his jacket, Keith’s loose ponytail tied with a red ribbon, Lance’s waist adorned by a silver chain and Pidge’s glasses exchanged for a sleeker pair. If the star-eyed looks they’ve been receiving ever since they landed on New Altea is anything to go by then she must have succeeded.

Lance, Keith must admit, looks particularly dashing. His suit makes his shoulders look broader and it’s a problem. More so because it’s obvious that the red paladin isn’t the only one to take notice, more than one individual coming forward to introduce themselves to the friendliest member of Voltron.

Keith glares.

The alien doesn't take the hint and keeps talking, going so far as to place one of their four hands on the blue paladin’s upper arm when they laugh. Lance looks pleased.

“You should go talk to him.”

A crick forms in his neck when he jerks to attention at Allura’s voice. She fills up the once empty space next to him, having somehow snuck up on him, wearing low heels and a pale pink dress; she looks the epitome of aristocratic, with jewels dripping across her collarbone and dangling from her ears. His heart jumps at her words when they finally register, unable to help the quick glance he sends to the tables. “No,” he says immediately, turning away when he catches the unilu delegate peering at him from over the blue paladin’s shoulder. “He looks fine where he is. I don’t want to butt in.”

The princess frowns, obviously displeased at his reluctance. She crosses her arms and juts out a hip in a move that’s far too Keith-ish in nature for his liking. “You know, Lance loves to dance and—”

“Awesome,” Keith grouses.

Allura glares. “—and I’m sure he would say yes to one if someone asked.”

There’s no denying that the blue paladin has had no shortage of dance partners; ever since the band had started playing the boy had been on and off the dancefloor, spinning past him with someone new every few minutes. Some bitterness sneaks into his tone when he says, “I’ve noticed.”

“Now that’s not fair. You’ve had all evening to make your move. Don’t be upset that others are doing what you can’t.”

The words sting and Keith isn’t quick enough to hide it.

Allura’s expressions soften and he bristles a bit, less at the thought of being the recipient of someone’s pity and more knowing that he’s actively doing everything to deserve it. “Keith,” she says, and it’s soft and encouraging. “You are one of the most courageous people I know and you’ve faced things far more imposing than this.” She ducks her head to look him in the face. “It’s just Lance.”

“I know,” he says eventually, making a visible effort to relax. He sighs. “I know. It’s just… I don’t want to mess it up.”

“There’s nothing to mess up,” she assures, touching his arm. “Lance is a fellow paladin and, more importantly, your friend. You’ve been through much together and nothing could break the bond you have because of it.” She pauses, carefully manicured hands digging into his sleeve. “And if he’s the one from those visions of yours then talking to him would be the first step towards the rest of your life.”

He really regrets telling her about the flashes.

“It’s him, isn’t it.” It’s more of a fact than a question and Keith can’t even conjure up the energy to deny it.

Lance laughs again.

At his silence, Allura gasps. “I knew it! Oh! How romantic! It’s just like those books Hunk recommended to me, but better because—well, this is real, isn’t it?” Her hands clap together excitedly. “To think, the history you share is just a precursor of what is to come. It must be destiny!”

“Allura,” he warns.

“If he is from the visions, then you mustn’t just talk to him. You have to dance with Lance too! Keith, you absolutely must!”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

“And why not?”

“Because, well, we’re not… it’s complicated. Plus, I don’t really dance.”

Allura tuts at him, booping him on the nose as she takes on a tone of one talking to an ignorant toddler. “Not with that attitude, you don’t. Come on. It will be fun.”

“And what if I don’t wanna have fun?”

The princess purses her lips and she tugs at his sleeve impatiently. He resists when she makes a move to drag him away from his corner, twisting away from her with a scowl. Knowing of her strength and how it outmatches his by miles, he karate chops her other hand when it reaches out for him. She gasps, offended at his defiance, and then redoubles her efforts.

“Why must you be so difficult?” she growls, circlet slipping over one pointed ear as she shoves herself in his space. Her elbow digs uncomfortably in his gut as her other hand fumbles for the wrist of his hand. “I’m only trying to help.”

“Allura, I swear—”

“Well, don’t you two look cozy.”

The two freeze and it’s almost comical, getting caught like this—the red paladin and the altean princess, important figures in their own right, mid-scuffle and cursing at each other—yet Keith doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t laugh because while they had been arguing, a figure had snuck up on them. A figure with very broad shoulders.

Allura recovers first. “Lance!”

The boy belonging to the name smiles. “Mind if I cut in?”

“Of course!” Allura gushes, letting go of Keith and all but pushing him at the blue paladin regardless of the fact that he hadn’t specified who he wanted to dance with. She takes a moment to fix her appearance, smoothing down hair and adjusting her dress, looking haughty. “I’ve gotta find Coran and make sure he’s not overdoing it on the nunvill, so you boys enjoy yourselves.”

And with that, she leaves. Leaves Keith in the middle of a party with his bonafide first and only crush.

He looks up and meets Lance’s eyes. It’s been months since he came back from the abyss and the half inch he had over the other boy is gone now, making them eye level. He knows neither of them are done growing and their heights will continue to change but Keith finds that he likes it this way for now.

“So,” Lance starts, biting his lip. “Dance?”

A quick look across the hall and his stomach flutters nervously. “I’ve never really…”

But Lance is already moving right along, grabbing his hand and tugging him in the direction of the dancefloor. Dazed, Keith lets it happen, focus torn between their clasped hands and the back of the other’s head. The crowd parts easily for them, curious looks and whispers following at their heels only to be hastily hidden when he glances away from the pinking ears of his partner. Lance must be determined to ignore their audience, expertly spinning Keith around to face him and guiding their bodies in a starting position.

The music is already in full swing and Lance takes a step to match that of the other dancers, gently tugging Keith along in a strange mix of a waltz and shuffle, confident where he is stiff.

After maybe a half a minute where they steadily avoided each other’s eye, Keith speaks up. “Is this something we do now? Dance.”

Blue eyes flicker past his face and he doesn't have to imagine the silent conversation that's happening over his shoulder. Lightning quick he looks behind him, but, much to his chagrin, Hunk has already schooled his expression from where he sits at one of the many tables and is staring back at him with all too innocent eyes.

Lance clears his throat and Keith turns back to a nervous smile. “Yeah, I thought we could try it out… See how you—er, we feel about it.”

There must have been something in the drink he had earlier of his because Keith can feel himself melting.

“It’s nice,” he says, watching as the other boy’s smile turns into something more lighthearted. “I’m not very good but, yeah, it’s… it’s nice.”

Eyes twinkle in the warm light. “I think it’s nice too.”

There’s a bit of a hitch in the music and Keith spies a few of the musicians being switched out, exchanging string instruments for ones that look like a cross between trumpets and accordions. It must be getting later in the evening because some of the dancers leave, replaced by a much younger crowd. He spots a few familiar faces, both humans—Atlas technicians, old classmates, Garrison faculty—and aliens—bounty hunters, altean colonists, royal dignitaries—all unabashedly shedding their professional appearance in exchange for a good time. The energy pulses upwards, pushing them closer together and causing the weird rumbling in Keith’s chest to give way to butterflies, transparent wings brushing along the inside of his ribs in a way that has his heart thumping madly.

When the song increases in tempo Keith accidentally steps on Lance’s foot. He cringes. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Lance assures. ”Just lighten your steps and pretend it’s a training session. Move with me, not against me.”

Keith tries the step again and nearly trips over his own feet when he miscalculates how many times his partner would step back, causing a table of girls nearby to twitter with amusement at the sight of him. Lance doesn’t mock him for his clumsiness, just adjusts his hand so it presses a bit lower on his back; Keith feels the touch like a brand, barely catching onto the way his palm shifts in accordance to the next step.

It gives Keith something to focus on and, eventually, he falls in line with the steps.

“See? You’re a natural.”

Keith snorts and Lance grins, proud. “Not really—not like you anyway. How did you get to be so good?”

“I'm Cuban,” he says as a means of explanation, swinging his hips leisurely with the beat a drummer starts playing, obviously enjoying himself. It’s… distracting. Especially when the song changes to something with more bass and he lines their bodies together, starting up a heavy sway that Keith falls into after the initial jerk of surprise. Then there’s a thigh fitting between his legs and Lance is letting go of one hip to guide his gloved hand to the small of his back, casual as can be as the boy rolls back into the touch.

“This is, um.” Keith takes in a shaky breath. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Yeah, I don’t think there are many opportunities for this out in the desert. You really missed out—the Garrison dances always ended up this way. Didn’t matter how many chaperones they assigned.” Lance’s voice is level with his ear, their cheeks brushing as they move to the music, causing goosebumps when he feels the contradictory smooth-roughness of the other’s freshly shaved skin. “But we’ll count this as making up for all the ones you missed. Better late than never, right?”

Breathing is difficult but Keith manages it, if only just. “Right.”

Lance makes a noncommittal hum, pressing closer to let a couple trip pass them. Keith watches them go from his view over Lance’s shoulder, only slightly scandalized when the shorter alien unabashedly slips a hand over their date’s backside. It causes his hand to twitch, the pad of his thumb finding the indent of his partner’s lower back through his suit. With a startling clarity, Keith realizes how far his hand has fallen and tenses, waiting for Lance to notice and take offense.

But nothing happens. No one comments on how close the two paladins have gotten, probably because they aren’t the only ones to do so. The dancefloor is a mesh of bodies, all moving to whatever dance they know and hiding them from the view of the spectators sitting at the tables. He’s not pushed away in disgust, nor is he laughed at. Instead, Lance drapes his free arm over Keith’s shoulder, smoothing down the baby hairs at the back of his neck.

It gives Keith the courage to glance over; he spies half-lidded eyes and a warm flush under golden skin. Enticed by the fluttery feeling low in his gut, he settles his remaining arm over the other’s bicep, just above the edge of his elbow-length gloves. A slow inhale, followed by an even slower exhale, and the pulse under his fingers jumps.

He’s never been held like this before, as if he was the beginning of an addictive end.

The song—the fifth they had danced to and Keith deliriously wonders where the time had gone—starts to come to a climax, and Lance stirs. He looks at the band, then the other dancers and then Keith. There’s something in his eyes and it’s like taking a deep breath before diving under, adrenaline-inducing, willing to be pulled wherever the current takes him. The moment builds like a cresting wave—higher and higher, curling with seafoam and impending desire—until Keith is sure that they're going to crash together, that he’s going to lean in closer and kiss him. Involuntarily, he slips his eyes closed.

“And now, the big finish!”

His eyes fly back open. "What—"

But Lance is already twisting them around and throwing himself backwards. And Keith has no choice but to hastily lean with him, biceps flexing as he tightens his grip around Lance’s waist and hastily puts pressure between his shoulder blades. The top of his head barely misses cracking against the floor. Still, Lance cackles like it’s great fun.

“I can’t believe that worked,” Lance says too loudly when they’re back to standing normally, clapping with the rest of the crowd as the band announces their fifteen minute break. The moment officially over. “I usually drop my partners when I try to dip them.”

“That was embarrassing.”

“Eh, you liked it.”

A little called out, Keith hunches his shoulders and scowls. “I did not.”

But Lance goes on like he didn’t say anything, giving him a million-watt smile. “We did pretty well, all things considered. Probably cause we make such a good team.”

And how is Keith supposed to keep things together when he goes and says things like that? All sincere and butterfly-inducing. “Yeah,” he tells the boy, feeling brave and scared and more than himself, making it so that the back of their hands brush. “We really are.”

After that the party winds down.

The crowds thin and people start saying their goodbyes, respectful salutes paving way for hearty handshakes and more than one inebriated embrace. There seems to be a line forming in front of Allura, everyone wanting a final word with the princess before the night is officially over; Keith merely gives a wave as he and Lance pass her by towards where Hunk and Pidge dally around the buffet table, thinking nothing of the quick smile she gives in return before looking at the diplomat talking to her, knowing that he’ll see her tomorrow at their usual movie night.

Hunk is polishing off his plate of what looks to be pigs in a blanket while Pidge shoves leftover hors d'oeuvres into her shoulder pack. “I’ve got to get this recipe,” the former is saying when the pair come within hearing distance, looking up at the sound of their footsteps and doing a triple take before not-so-subtlety nudging his smaller companion with his elbow. With both gazes trained on them, Hunk gives a too-innocent smile. “Looks like you guys had fun. How was the dancefloor?”

“Crowded,” Keith replies at the same time Lance says, “Cozy.”

The yellow paladin’s eyes flicker between them. “Okay, yeah. Well, we were gonna head out soon… Are, um, you guys gonna…”

“It is getting pretty late,” Lance agrees, leaning forward to steal the last bit of the food from Hunk’s plate before slipping around Keith and draping an arm across his shoulders. He pops the finger food into his mouth and makes a show of chewing loudly when Keith frowns. “You’re going back to the Atlas, right?” he asks him, oblivious or uncaring of the two pairs of eyes that dissect the entire interaction. “Do you think I could hitch a ride with you? I’m staying with Veronica tonight and I think she already left.”

“Sure.”

“Cool.” Lance leans away far enough that he nearly topples the two of them over and Keith has to lightly brace his hand on the other’s waist to better balance them. “See you later, paladudes.”

They four exchange fist bumps and then the red and blue paladin are angling themselves towards the exit, Keith trying not to combust when their arms stay wrapped around each other. More than one eye sticks to them and even more bodies put themselves in front of them to give a deferential goodbye; Lance takes it in stride, giving a sincere wave here and an over-the-top wink there, and it more than makes up for Keith’s own stilted replies. He only blunders once and that’s when Shiro catches his eye over the brim of a champagne glass, smile smug and unbearable.

Finally, they make it to the building’s transport dock where the Black Lion sits docilely.

The forcefield dissipates before Keith even asks and there’s a low rumble in greeting when the pair walk up the ramp, which Lance reciprocates with a light pat to one of the wall panels before following Keith to the cockpit. Then it’s just a means of setting a course to the Atlas and watching the stars pass them by as the mechanical lion does the rest.

The Atlas is empty save for the night shift, all of whom pause in their work up in the control room to watch the Black Lion land and the two paladins that exit it make their way across the room. It is almost eerie how their footsteps sound like a military march in comparison to absolute quiet that reigns once the cabin pressurizer comes online but Keith doesn’t give himself any time to consider it, not when he has a preferable distraction walking alongside him. Lance fills in the silence easily, looking princely as he charms Keith with anecdotes of parties past, laughing alongside him as he recalls the time he had won the Winter Formal crown and the resulting awkward dance that had followed, set to an early century song that he attempts (and fails) to beatbox. It makes the trip up to the floor with their quarters all the more enjoyable and when it’s over, Keith wishes it wasn’t.

Lance flashes a smile at him. “Night, Samurai.”

He sighs in return. “Night, Sharpshooter.”

Then the boy is turning around, disappearing down the hallway with only one look over his shoulder. And Keith, not wanting to look more foolish than he already has by getting caught staring at the spot his crush had occupied, quickly unlocks his door and slips inside.

His mother is in the kitchen, slicing up something that looks like a blue tomato, and looks up when he lingers in the doorway. “You’re back,” she says neutrally, transferring the food to a serving platter and pointedly ignoring the cosmic wolf that watches her every move, drool starting to collect at the base of his largest molar. “How was the party?”

He shrugs. “It was alright.”

“Just alright?”

He shuffles away and into the living room, collapsing onto the couch. His neck cranes back, giving him a perfect view of the ceiling tiles. There’s a scorch mark in the top-right corner from when Kosmo had mistaken one of Krolia’s blasters for a chew toy. He squints at it, thinking, and his mind instantly snags onto the phantom brush of thighs and the strum of an alien guitar. Mouth dry and more than a little embarrassed, he squeezes his eyes shut.

The couch dips slightly and then a clawed hand is stroking his hair, pushing his bangs out of his face and behind his ear. The gesture quells the loud noise in his chest and he lets his head dip to the side, heated cheek squished against the cool felt of the couch.

“It was maybe more than alright,” he finally answers. For some reason, it’s this admission that had him blushing and curling his toes in secondhand gratification. “I had fun, more fun than I thought I would have anyway.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

She doesn’t ask, but he knows she wants to know. Better yet, he wants to tell her.

“Everyone was there.”

She hums and continues to comb through his hair.

“Shiro, Pidge and Hunk and Allura. Lance too.” A pause where he clears his throat, far from casual. “We danced.”

“That sounds nice.”

“Yeah, it was—nice.”

They sit in silence for a bit and his mind lingers on the dance he had shared that evening. He plays it on loop, going over every detail until he could sketch it out on paper, framed and made all the more real. Eventually Krolia stops her grooming in favor of offering him a slice of the strange fruit; he takes it and plops it into his mouth without question, surprised at the sweet taste.

“It’s weird, feeling this way,” he says absently, grounded but with his head in the clouds. “Weird that this is where I am. That life’s like this now.”

“The universe works in mysterious ways,” she tells him with a hum and he would scoff at such a cliche saying if it weren’t for the way his mother says it so genuinely. “Sometimes, it takes a lifetime and a half to find your place in it. I’m glad you’ve found yours.”

The flashes start coming faster and—

—Lance’s warm hand in his as they walk through a line of stalls selling alien wares. Merchants offering gossamer scarfs the same shade as the rising sun and jewelry that shines like they’ve been plucked straight from the night sky. Gaggles of children running through the streets, laughing as they dodge through the crowds. An ornate dagger purchased and gifted—

—fingers gently rubbing a sticky substance over the stretch of his cheek while a voice drones on about the benefits of skincare—

—his shoulder leaned against a doorway as he watches Lance address a class full of recruits, eyes twinkling when they catch sight of him hidden in the shadows. The loud trill of a bell and the shuffle of children eager for lunch, tempered by the arms wrapped around his neck and the kiss bestowed on his cheek—

—the shudder that goes through him as they rock into each other, skin sweaty and breathes loud. Hands gripping his thighs and his teeth nipping at an exposed neck, leaving marks so the world would know who they belonged to, now and to the end. Words whispered in the dark just as stars burst across his vision—

—eyes connecting over a crowd, secretive and happy—

—Keith fumbling with the black box in his pocket as he paces their room, repeating the words he wants to say to the man that he loves, nervous and excited and everything that comes after—

—he never wants them to stop.

They are hanging out in Keith’s room three days after the ball, sitting on the floor and leaning against his bed as they enjoy each other’s presence. Between them, Kosmo rolls onto his back, expecting belly rubs now that they’re no longer distracted by the show they had been watching, ending credits rolling after twenty-three minutes of terrible storytelling and bad animation. Lance is talking with the assumption that Keith will listen, going on loudly about how his character in the show is the main protagonist while delivering pats to the space wolf.

And Keith is… distracted.

Distracted in a sense that he can’t focus—or rather, he can’t stop focusing. On the energetic hand gestures and the expressive emotions that flit across Lance’s face as he speaks, pausing intermittently in order to coo at Kosmo and ask his opinion on things, always answered with a happy pant and an excited tail wag that has the blue paladin nodding sagely before continuing. He focuses on the way he feels now, in this moment, content like he’s never felt before.

A wet tongue licks a stripe up Lance’s cheek and he rears back, half disgusted, half charmed, and Keith can’t keep quiet any longer. Just blurts out, “We should do something this weekend.”

His friend blinks owlishly. “What?”

There’s fire coursing through his veins, invigorating him. It gives him courage to continue, to make so that the flashes are no longer flashes but memories. “I said we should do something this weekend. Do something together.”

“Yeah, okay.”

The casualness of the answers makes him think that the boy doesn’t quite understand the request. Assumes what he’s asking is for something they’ve always done. They hang out all the time, yes, but this is different. He wants this to be different.

“No, I mean we should go out this weekend.” Keith sends him a certain look, waiting for Lance to catch on.

He doesn’t catch on. “Huh?”

Dark eyes roll toward the ceiling and Keith shakes his head, and there’s that something again and oh, it’s fondness—it’s a look of fondness quirking his lips.

“What I’m saying is…” He takes a quick moment to shift on his hip so that their knees are almost touching and, after a moment of consideration, Keith slides his hand down and over until the tips of their pinkies bump into each other. “We should go out this weekend, like go on a ride out to town. Whatever you want, really.”

Lance’s blinks once, twice, three times, and—there. Comprehension floods and it takes only half a second before a high pitched noise scratches out of the boy’s throat. His eyes are wide, comically so, and he stares at Keith, mouth parting in an eclipse of a red moon. Then, just as Keith is committing the image to memory, he snaps his mouth shut and visibly shakes himself. “O-okay, I see. You mean like a scouting mission, right? For any lingering drones out in the desert. Well, yeah, um, as long as it’s okay with Shiro—”

“No,” he quickly cuts off, partially frustrated at the gap in communication and partially embarrassed that they would need clearance for what he has in mind. “I meant—a ride together—as in, you and me. No mission. Just us… together.”

The boy swallows loudly and Keith tracks the moment involuntarily.

"Oh.”

A lapse follows, not uncomfortable, but full. Keith buzzes in the aftertaste of his impromptu proposition and holy hell, he just asked Lance out. They’ve still yet to talk about the ball and how they had danced all night, and, despite the looks they receive from their teammates, neither of them have been brave enough to breach the silent agreement of keeping whatever feelings they had to themselves. However, now everything threatens to burst. His heart finally catches up to his words, beating in overdrive as he waits for an answer. But Lance seems not to care for the nervousness pulsing in his veins or the butterflies fluttering in the base of his stomach because he keeps up the uncharacteristic silence. It remains that way for a solid thirty seconds, until, finally, Keith can't take it anymore.

He clears his throat. “So, is that a yes?”

Lance jerks to attention, looking caught. “I, uh, what?”

“Do you want to go?”

Something incredible happens then. It’s wild and previously unthinkable, but Lance blushes.

He blinks and his vision doubles, half of it going auburn in a wash of caribbean light. He is by the waterfront, the sound of crashing waves dissolving into background noise when compared to the breathy laugh that washes over his face. Darkened cheeks lift in a smile that crinkles eyes and Keith goes a bit red himself at the image. The flash indulges him in a scene of utter bliss; velvety sand and supple lips, parting against his own.

Without thought he leans in, chasing the moment not yet passed. It causes present Lance’s eyes to go wide and it’s nothing like the cool burn of his half lidded gaze on the beach, salt drying on his lashes and sun-born freckles prickling his cheeks.

“I—ah, um. I—I’ll go.”

“Yeah?”

Lance looks away and then back. His voice is the quietest he’s ever heard. Almost shy. “Yeah.”

And it really is that easy.

The days go by slow after that, drawling in an agonizing pace. Second by second, minute by minute, hour by hour. Nearly stagnant, Keith hangs under time’s dispassionate influence, watching the clock and willing it to move. It’s a blessing when it finally hits five o’clock on the following Saturday. He stops the pacing he had been doing for the past hour and checks his reflection for the sixth time in as many minutes, tucking and untucking his shirt and running a hand in his hair in an futile attempt to tame it. When the results only further his agitation he gives up, collecting his nerves to the best of his ability making his way out the door with the intention of a quiet getaway.

Which makes him startle when he runs into Romelle outside his door, hand raised and poised to knock. “Keith! I've been sent to retrieve you!” He sees her gaze flicker down to take in his outfit—his cleanest pair of jeans, a corded necklace with a hanging Marmora pendant, and a leather jacket so new that its tag is stuffed in his back pocket—and he stops himself from turning back around and locking himself in his closet till the end of time. “Dinner is almost ready and Coran has made the most spectacular—”

“Actually,” he interrupts, unable to maintain eye contact, “I’ve got other plans.”

Romelle opens her mouth, but Keith, knowing the girl’s knack for rambling, is already speeding through the hallway.

Unfortunately for him, the living room is not as empty as he had previously thought. The yellow and green paladin are sitting on the couch, surrounded by a hurricane of blankets and pillows, the leftovers of a raid on Shiro’s candy stache sprawled across the coffee table.

“Aw, Keith, you look nice. What’s the occasion?”

Pidge looks up and over her screen, lips curling in a sly grin that instantly puts Keith on edge. “Yeah, Keith, where are you going?”

“Nowhere,” he says immediately. Then, “Out.”

“Out with Lance I bet. Isn’t your date today?”

Hunk gasps. “You guys are going on a date?”

“How did you…?” He spots his phone on the couch next to her and huffs angrily, stomping over and snatching it back. He quickly unlocks it, frowning when his last conversation with Lance immediately pops up, the other boy having sent a barrage of emojis in affirmation that their outing was still on. “Stop looking through my stuff and for the last time, we aren’t—it’s not a date. We’re just going for a ride, maybe check out the town market. It’s whatever.”

“I don’t know, that sounds a lot like a date to me. Hunk, any thoughts?”

Hunk has just one. “It’s totally a date.”

Heat flushes his cheeks. “Don’t you have your own quarters? Why are you even here?”

Pidge leans back, priggish smirk still in tact. “Matt and N-1 are having their rebel friends over and I didn’t want to third-wheel it, so Shiro said I could crash here for the night.”

Keith internally curses Shiro and his mother hen tendencies. Outwardly, he searches for the key card he’s pretty sure he left on the table the night before. His hair falls into his face as he ducks to check under the furniture and he brushes it back behind his ear, thinking maybe it would be more manageable in a ponytail.

“Look at him.” Pidge snickers. “What a schmuck.”

Hunk shushes her with a light pat of the arm. “I think it’s sweet. It means he cares. And don’t you worry Keith, I’m sure Lance will appreciate the effort you put into today. It’s also perfectly normal to be nervous for your first date— ”

“I’m not nervous and it’s not a date.”

Their response is lost when he goes to the office in the next room and searches there. But it’s all for naught because Shiro is a veritable mess when it comes to anything other than flying because there are papers scattered everywhere and it would take hours to file through even half of it.

When he comes back out, Allura has joined them. She perks up at the sight of him, but he ignores her in favor of checking in between the cushions of the armchair. However, Allura is not deterred. “Keith, Pidge and Hunk have just informed me of your date with Lance. If I may, I have some suggestions—”

“I don’t need any suggestions. I just need to leave or I’ll be late.” Pidge squawks indignantly when Keith shoves her to check her side of the couch.

“Yes, you’re right! Punctuality is very important for these types of things. Early duflax gets the wyvin, as Coran always says.” It seems pointless to mention that not once has he ever heard Coran say that. “But if I could impart some advice before you go. Now, I don’t know much about Earthen mating rituals, but Pidge tells me that courting is a common practice here— ”

“I’m not listening.”

“—gifts are imperative for a successful—”

“Can’t hear you.”

“—when you present, do so when tensions are high—”

“Allura, please, stop.”

“—and then, finally, you must lay claim—”

“I’m leaving,” Keith announces loudly, trying and failing to drown out the giggles that come from Hunk and Pidge’s side of the couch. Forget the keycard. It’s not worth this pain. “Bye. I hope you all have a terrible day.”

They are unfazed by his words, grinning like madmen as they wave. He stalks out of the room, shoulders hunched all the way to his ears as he desperately tries to block out the kissy noises Pidge is making. He can’t believe there was a time he was worried that they would be out of his life; he must have been having an existential crisis or something because this is a new level of embarrassing.

He’s so consumed in his thoughts that he nearly barrels into Shiro on his way out. It’s only the steady grip of his automated arms that Keith doesn’t crack his head against the doorframe and give himself a concussion.

“Whoa there. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just…”

“Looking for this?”

There, dangling from Shiro’s prosthetic fingers, is a familiar key card.

Keith lets out a deep breath, a whisper of relief cooling down the anxious fire within him by a few degrees. He sends his oldest friend a strained smile and takes them. “Yeah, thanks. Where did you find them?”

“Under the couch with one of my shoes, the holoscreen remote, Hunk’s headband, and Allura’s earrings. It seems like Kosmo’s starting a life of crime.”

He lets out a chuckle, unraveling just a little less. “I should probably put a stop to that.”

Shiro nods, patting his back in that sorta awkward, manly sort of way. It’s encouraging and he steps past the other man with a deep breath. Feeling more like himself, he secures the key card to his belt loop and turns to head down the corridor, promising himself that he’ll only start running when there’s no one to catch him doing it.

“Oh, Keith?”

Keith whips around, nerves already reinflating. “Yeah?”

Shiro fails to keep his smile in check. “Have fun on your date.”

And before he can even begin to retaliate, the door is sliding shut and he’s left there, standing in an empty hallway, red to his tips.

Lance looks nice. Really nice. Really, really, really nice. It’s actually a little distracting how nice he looks.

They had met up at the east end of the loading docks and Keith had fought to keep his cool when he had spotted the tall form of his fellow paladin casually leaning against a security rail. His white v-neck and ripped jeans contrasted with the industrial setting, his denim jacket faded and adorned with a couple of pins, sleeves rolled up to showcase the collection of beaded bracelets wrapped around his left wrist. But what had truly pulled it all together was the smile he had sent Keith upon noticing him.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hi,” Lance returns. “You clean up good, Mullet.”

The compliment flusters him a little and he nearly walks straight into a support beam, only just managing to avoid it with a side-step that brings him close enough to brush shoulders with Lance. “Thanks. You, uh, you too.”

Unsure of what to say next, he ducks his head and leads them to the area the coordinator had assigned him when he had called in the favor. Section A-26 is large and the usual aircraft that docks there is nowhere to be seen; instead, there his hoverbike sits, scavenged from the Blue Lion’s cave and restored to its previous glory. He hoists himself up into the seat with practiced ease and looks down at Lance expectantly.

Pink tints the other boy’s cheeks, but there’s this mischievous smile on his face as he asks, “Why do you get to drive?”

“Because I’m the one that knows where we’re going.”

“Wow, you actually have a plan. Um, okay, then where are we going? Or is that top secret?” He bounces where he stands, looking for all the word: giddish.

“It wasn’t until you asked.”

Lance looks pleased at the response and climbs up behind Keith.

The hoverbike dips a little at the uneven dispersion of weight and he offers his hand as a brace, blushing faintly when it’s taken. But thankfully, Lance doesn’t see, focused as he is on swinging a leg over the seat and scooting close enough to Keith that his chest brushes sparingly at his back. Then hands are wrapping around his middle, loose, and it’s embarrassing how responsive Keith’s body is to the touch, rolling in one long shiver that’s unmistakable. If Lance notices he doesn’t comment on it.

“Ready to roll,” he says, breath ghosting over the shell of his ear.

Keith puts on the goggles hidden in the front compartment and passes the extra pair he brought to his back seat passenger. Then it’s a matter of twisting the throttle and feeling the engine come to life beneath them, four hundred pounds of metal under his control. And it’s like it was just yesterday he was speeding across the desert with Shiro, tasting freedom for the first time, his hands gripping the handles like they were always meant to; the circumstance has changed but the feeling hasn’t and Keith, with the luxury knowing that he’s got time on his side, grins and drives.

“Woah!” Lance exclaims when Keith tears out of the loading docks, erupting into laughter when they take a sharp turn at the gates of the Garrison compound and startle the men stationed there.

Then it’s just the open desert road, flat and red-tinged. The torrid heat follows at their backs, rolling alongside tumbleweeds and whistling in the wind that buffets the nose of the hoverbike. Dust swirls under the speeder's anti-gravity fenders, curling over the shadowy silhouettes of cacti that they fly past. It brings the beds of the distance buttes into startling focus, massive against the clear sky and infinite horizon.

It takes twenty minutes to get to their destination.

Keith parks at the outskirts of the town nearest to the Galaxy Garrison, waiting for Lance to dismount before following. Their shoulders brush a bit as they stand side by side, Keith eyeing Lance as he eyes their surroundings curiously. The town market is already in full swing, tents set up and people bustling about, buying and selling wares; already, more than one individual behind a stand is calling out to them, offering a discount if they buy in bulk.

“I thought we could walk around a bit?” he says, hoping that the idea isn't too lame. “And after—well, there’s an arcade in the plaza a few streets down and they’ve got pizza.”

His fears are unfounded because Lance just grins. "Pizza not made out of green goo? Count me in."

Things go smoothly after that. The anxiety bubbling in Keith’s chest eases and it allows him the strength to grab Lance’s sleeve and tug him in the direction of a tent hosting a repository of wind chimes. From tent to tent, they go; browsing at board games from planets even they haven’t been to, giggling over misspelled words on shirts, daring each other to try gross-looking foods and petting every dog they see.

And it’s… fun. Keith is having fun.

Lance is great. He’s nice and funny and smart and actually seems to enjoy hanging out with Keith. He nods along when Keith speaks, insanely attentive, and offers his own input with great enthusiasm. They bicker too, playful jabs volleyed back and forth, easy and natural like it never was in the beginning but is now. And although Keith has never thought himself to be an overly funny guy, he finds that pulling a laugh out of his fellow paladin isn’t all that hard and even sort of a reward on all on its own.

It’s like they fit, slotting together like puzzle pieces—or flashes.

“Hey, Keith?” Lance’s hand finds Keith’s elbow. He had discarded his jacket just before they started eating, which is doing nothing to help the hot flush rushing to the apple of his cheeks. The corded muscles of forearms on display is near impossible to ignore and Keith’s eyes follow the dips and curves of his arm, the hard muscle leading up to his shoulder, the soft line of his neck, the defined jawline. “Your fries are getting cold.”

It’s the touch that has him pulling out of the confines of his thoughts, physically shaking his head and straightening his shoulders, not wanting to appear anything less than invested.

Naturally, the world seems to think Keith can’t have a single nice thing without a price because it’s just a few minutes into their meal that his phone starts to blow up with messages. A quick glance shows that most are from his mother, with a few from Shiro sprinkled in intermittently. All of the messages are ones of encouragement, some having been sent while they were driving and others steadily ignored when the two had browsed the stalls of the market.

Eventually all the small pings get to be enough that Keith has to silence his phone.

“You’re really popular today,” Lance notes, slathering an alarming amount of ranch onto his pizza. It’s only when he drowns the unsuspecting slice that he catches Keith’s surprised and guilty look that he elaborates, “Dude, your phone has been lighting up all day. I’d be blind not to notice.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s cool.”

Still, Keith feels the need to explain. “It’s Shiro and my mom. They’re… checking up on me.”

That gets a light laugh out of Lance. He brings out his own phone, showing Keith the mass of notifications on his lock screen. “I get that. I’ve gotten at least five texts asking if you’re secretly an axe murderer. I hope three years in space is enough time to confidently say that I wasn’t lying when I told them you weren’t. Would really put a damper on the day.”

“I don’t even own an axe.”

Lance’s grin grows and when he puts away his phone to continue eating, he doesn’t reclaim the few inches of space he had given away in order for Keith to see the screen. Their elbows knock a few times, but Keith doesn’t mind.

They leave the plaza in a good mood, making their way back to the hoverbike while they talk about nothing and everything. They only stop when they mount the vehicle and when Lance doesn’t ask Keith where they’re going he decides that he doesn’t want the day to be over quite yet, so he revs the throttle and heads toward the direction he knows his shack is. He eventually leads them to a hill that he and his father used to frequent when he was younger, an escape from the world long before the stars were something to shoot for.

It’s an easy hike up the hill and when they settle by the edge, their pinkies are touching.

“You can’t do that,” he says on their fourth game of tic-tac-toe when Lance brushes the dirt and erases his wobbly X, shifting it over a spot so that it blocks Keith’s next move. “That’s cheating.”

“No, Keithy boy, that’s what I call winning.”

“This isn’t a competition.”

“Isn’t it?” Que pursed lips and a sly side-eye. “If it’s not, then why did you dress up for today, huh? Trying to one up me in style too?”

“This is what I usually wear.”

“Pah-lease. Like I don’t know Shiro’s handiwork when I see it. Dude’s got an eye for colors and he did you a solid keeping with the red. Bet he put up such a fuss when you kept the fingerless gloves—they scream embarrassing scene phase that never really went away.” Lance laughs when he doesn’t immediately counter the accusation and it must fuel him because he continues. “I bet you were upset when you couldn’t find any eyeliner for our date—”

As if struck by lightning, Keith straightens.

“—probably used it all up making yourself look like an edgy, space raccoon going to some street race—”

Our date, Lance had said. He had called this a date. They were on a date right now. Officially. The two of them, together.

“—being emo. But, I mean, whatever works, you know? Sometimes you just gotta paint your nails black and—mmph!”

Keith’s kiss lands on his upper lip, hard and dry.

It’s quick, over and done within a matter of seconds. Lips tingling and heart hammering, Keith pulls back, soul leaving his suddenly flushed body when he realizes he can still feel the other’s breath on his face. He must remain in his catatonic state for longer than he realizes because then Lance’s giving him this particular frown and saying, “What was that?”

With nothing else to do, he shrugs helplessly. “It was a kiss.”

“I know what a kiss is.” Eyes search his. “Why did you kiss me? ”

“I wanted to,” he says simply. “Was that not okay?”

“No, that wasn’t… No, it was cool.”

“Cool,” Keith repeats.

Lance scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah. I liked it.”

“Me too,” he adds, looking down. A good portion of their game has been accidentally wiped away and he redraws it, purposefully putting all the X’s and O’s in their respective spots before Lance had decided to remake the rules. He nudges the other boy’s foot with his own, biting back a smile when they’re hooked together. “We can, um, stay here? If you want?”

“I’d like that.”

They stay long enough to watch the sun dip under the horizon.

As dates go, it’s the best he’s ever had.

Later, when he’s home and high off the promise of a second date, he walks into the kitchen to find his friends congregated despite the late hour.

“So,” Allura starts as soon as he walks in, boots loud on the linoleum floor, trying to appear casual as she leans against the counter and just failing. It doesn’t help that the space mice are nearly tripping over her hair as they peer at Keith from over her shoulder, adding four tiny pairs of eyes to the many already scrutinizing his every move. “You’re back awfully late.”

Romelle is no better, inspecting her nails even as her ears twitch in his direction. “Yes, how did it go?”

There’s a plate of cookies on the island counter, comically shaped like the lions and dressed in an assortment of colors. He picks up the only red one on top and bites into it, humming at its surprising sweetness. Knowing his audience still expects an answer, he attempts an aloof shrug and nails it. “It was fine.”

There’s a pause and Keith can tell something is coming. He doesn’t know what exactly, but the warning signs are all there, flashing neon when Allura steeples her fingers and gives him a look.

“And the other… thing?”

“What other thing?”

“Why your kiss with Lance, of course.”

He nearly drops the sweet in his hand and immediately goes to look through the kitchen pass-through, spotting the rumpled state of the pillows and blankets by the living room window looking out to the barrack’s hallway. That and the smudge of chocolate on the window sill, coupled with the candy wrappers sticking out of Pidge’s hoodie pouch, can only mean one thing. “Were you watching?”

“No,” Romelle and Hunk immediately deny just as Allura and Pidge say, “Yes.”

Keith fumbles for a plausible reaction. His friends had undoubtedly seen the goodbye kiss that had been exchanged between him and Lance when the latter had insisted on walking him home; it had been a memorable kiss and Keith had maybe lost himself to it for longer than he’s willing to admit, but that’s something else entirely. A little helplessly, he searches the room for a means of end for this absolute embarrassment. He finds none. “That’s—I can’t believe—uncool!”

“Lance texted me almost immediately after,” Hunk offers, as if that makes up for his eavesdropping and then denial of said eavesdropping. “He hasn’t stopped talking about how you sprung one on him. You don’t really beat around the bush, do you?”

Shiro, the traitor, nods. He ignores Keith’s death glare and takes a sip of his tea, eyes crinkling with mirth over the rim of his mug. “Keith has always been very straightforward in what he wants. A real go-getter.”

It’s at that time that Coran makes an appearance, dressed in an obnoxiously orange pajama set with a matching hat, but any hope Keith has of the older man causing a distraction and, by default, a new topic change dissipates when he asks, “Oh, are we talking about Keith and Lance’s kiss? Congratulations Keith, I hear it had quite the impact.”

Pidge looks like she’s barely holding back a laugh. “Yeah, way to go in for the kill, Keith.”

“Can we stop talking about this?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “Stop talking. Just stop talking. I don’t want to hear another word.”

Thankfully, they listen and grow quiet. It doesn’t stop the looks that are thrown his direction, especially with Allura nearly vibrating in her slippers in the effort to capture his gaze, but it’s easy to scowl and turn away. He snatches the drink Shiro holds, ignoring the other’s surprised whine, and takes a sip, ready to head to bed and purge this conversation from his mind, never to be brought up again—

“Did you use tongue?”

Keith chokes.

Hunk merely hums. “Yeah, didn’t look like it.”

Keith thought he knew what love was.

It had been an easy thing, once upon a time. It had been his dad’s hugs after a long day, the blade left to him from a mother he didn’t know, a pat on the back following a perfect maneuver from a brother he found. It was as simple as looking up at the sky and letting himself get lost, for space was everything he had ever wanted, vast and exciting and impossible. Constant and safe and easy, a look to the heavens that held every dream.

But this is new.

New in that he is utterly blindsighted and unprepared for when it happens. A change in heart, from wistful ache to hopeful relief, sudden in the wake of new love. Stitched together through time and soft words, it beats again. Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump, it goes, drumming loudly against his chest, swelling at touches that burn like supernovas, thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.

Even more goosebump-inducing than the fire in his chest is the response it gets. Because, startling enough, the feeling is reciprocated.

No words have been said but the thought is there. It comes through in the accidental brushes that turn to lingering caresses. It’s the stretch of an arm thrown over wide shoulders, heads dipped closer as casual words are exchanged. It’s the lack of space as they sit, thighs pressed firmly together and feet idly kicking. It’s the pluck of pink petals out of dark hair, absent-minded, curling in the breeze. It’s the hand pressed against a lower back, feather-light as it guides them closer and onward.

Everything is the same, but different.

Following the date, they are still Lance and Keith, still stubborn and opinionated and more than willing to call each other out, but now—now, they’re more. Keith can talk strategy for restoration while their hands are clasped under the table; can steal a kiss during a spar and, while the other is distracted, sweep his legs right out from underneath him and ensure his victory; can argue the integrity of putting pineapple on pizza for three hours while cuddled under Lance’s arm; and can even sneak the boy into his room when Shiro and his mom are out on call, leaving the door closed and the lights off. He’s allowed to do these things—encouraged, even, if Lance's pleased as punch looks are anything to go by—to look, to touch, to hold. It’s a recently discovered niche in which they fall into, each eager to explore, and once they find their line, Lance makes a point of tiptoeing it. And Keith—well, Keith can't find it in himself to complain.

(“Like this,” the Lance of his flashes murmurs to him one night as he gets ready for bed—only for the words to be spoken again three days later as they curl into each other on the beat-up couch in his shack. “I like it like this.”)

Life shapes into something remarkable in the days of after. It becomes a certainty that the flashes had promised and Keith sometimes can’t believe it, that he gets this. Gets this and more. Because not that long ago, he had nothing—he was nothing—scraping by, sneering at everything he couldn’t have just to hide how it hurt to be denied the love he so desperately craved. But that’s the past and though it shapes him, it is not him. He is here, today, and soon, tomorrow too.

Tomorrow and every day that comes after.

In a menagerie of light, meteor showers and space whales, Keith dreams.

Even so long apart, the abyss is a physical thing inside him. It curls inside in the space behind his heart while he sleeps, coveting each heartbeat like a dragon to a horde; time does not exist in this plane and each heart beat, a remembrance to what he has lived through and what he will live through, is too enticing to pass up. It croons out a soft lullaby, asking for one last look.

Keith gives it.

It’s the sand between his toes and lips meeting his own, sun-warm and pliant to the lazy breeze. It’s the hot puff of breath at his neck while frantic hands explore. It’s the ring on his finger and the sip of champagne, glasses clinking in a toast made. It’s the weight of a child on his chest, calm and innocent, snoring lightly as a small hand fists his shirt. It’s the dip of a mattress every night, for the rest of his nights.

Keith wakes up and knows that’s the last flash he’ll ever have.

On the first day of the rest of his life Lance challenges Keith to a race.

It’s not the first time one of them has issued such a dare and it surely won’t be a last, but Keith still treats it like it’s the most important thing he’s ever done. He squares his shoulder and steps up to the plate, toe to toe, staring Lance in the eye as he accepts. It’s like old times, even with the newness between them, rearing up in the deliberate way Lance tilts his head, chin jutting out in that stubborn fashion of his, the crook of his eyebrow and the curl of his lips dangerous in ways Keith is only just getting used to.

Nevertheless, the day finds them back at the loading docks, convincing the Atlas crew to let them borrow another speeder. When Keith has signed the proper paperwork he turns to find Lance already seated on one of the hoverbikes. The red one.

Keith squints and Lance grins, but lets it go with a soft huff. He walks over to the gray bike and hoists himself with little effort, straddling the sleek seat and making himself familiar with the controls.

“Ready?” he asks once he's done.

“Born ready,” is Lance’s answer.

And, well, Keith can't let a challenge like that stand.

Without further ado, he revs the engine and shoots down the catwalk. He hears the beginning of a surprised squawk before the wind is boxing his ears, tugging at his hair, chasing away everything until it is just him and the road.

Flying is in his blood. It’s been a part of him since as long as he can remember. It was there when he sat atop his father’s shoulders, arms spread wide and leaning back as far as he dared, staring up, up, up. Fondly, he recalls the way big hands had grasped his tiny ankles and the voice, deep and honest, quoting, Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.

He had been too young to understand the words then, but he thinks he understands them now.

Though the most air he gets this time around is a particularly steep ledge over a slim ravine a quarter of a mile east from Galaxy Garrison property, it still feels the same. Like he’s taking a deep breath for the first time, lungs expanding until he is weightless, free. Free to be who he is, even if that is a boy quick to anger and slow to love.

And Keith likes who he is now. Likes who he can be—with Krolia, with Shiro and the team, with Lance.

In the end, Keith wins the race.

It’s a close call and his heart races at the thought of it. Because Lance is grinning that absurd grin, eyes crinkling with the force of it, and his hair is a mess, windblown and highlighted gold by the sun. The white shirt that clings to him is twisted and Lance makes a halfhearted effort to fix it as he quiets his hoverbike’s engine and starts talking in compensation, mouth moving a mile a minute.

“I almost had you at that last bend,” he is saying, leaning back in his seat so that his torso is one sleek slant. “I shouldn't have hesitated on the acceleration—I guess I’m just not an adrenaline junkie like you, but hey, now that I know the angle, it’ll be different. So I say we go around again. Two out of three wins. Loser has to help Coran clean the—Keith? Hello? Are you even listening to me?”

It’s not a flash, but it feels like one.

“Keith?” Shoulders rise as Lance angles his head to catch his gaze, honest concern coloring those beautiful eyes. They aren’t that close, hovebikes parked perpendicular to one another, but he swears he can see the universe reflecting in dark navy. Planets colliding and forming, spinning in orbit around a dilated pupil. “Hey, man, what’s wr— ”

“Date me.”

The words are out of his mouth before he has time to really think about them and what they mean.

Lance splutters. “What?”

But now that the idea has been introduced. Keith can't deny its appeal; to keep what they have, in all its stubborn sincerity and wild attraction, going for as long as they live. Perhaps even further than that. “Date me,” he says again, with more conviction. A pause. “Please. Please date me.”

A moment, then—

“You just have to beat me at everything, don't you?” Lance starts, loud enough to be considered yelling, but having none of the thunderous anger usually associated with the volume. “Can't even give me this one thing, can you? Well, the joke’s on you—cause it was going to be great! I had everything planned out and it was going to be the most romantic thing ever! Would've blown this disaster out of the water, I'm telling you!” He stands and, uncaring of the wobble it gives under his weight, marches purposefully across the wing of his bike until they’re parallel to one another. One of his hands waves madly about, flying across the entire range of their surroundings before gesturing to Keith himself. “Candles and rose petals everywhere! Hunk was gonna cook something nice and we would've danced and—and you were gonna swoon! Straight into my arms! There would've been kissing and everything! The whole shebang!”

Keith furrows his eyebrows, lost. “What?”

But Lance blows past his confusion and slumps to the side in an expulsion of energy, mumbling, “God, you're such a jerk.”

Hands move to grip the front of his shirt, the only warning before the entire weight of his maybe-boyfriend is forced upon him. Keith feels the wisp of eyelashes fluttering against the column of his neck as Lance smooshes his nose into the junction there, mumbling words and noises he can't hope to translate. He returns the clumsy embrace automatically, winding his arms around the other’s waist and resting his cheek on a soft, brown crown of hair.

“So… yes?”

Lance laughs a watery laugh, deliriously happy, and leans back to stare him straight in the eye, a whirlwind of blue caught in a crystal ball of stars. The grip on his shirt loosens, fingers trailing up his chest until they tease the nape of his neck. “Of course it's a yes, you absolute loser.”

Keith frowns even as his heart sings, melody erupting into fireworks so loud he might go deaf. “See, it's stuff like that last part that really mix me up.”

“Oh my gosh, just shut up and kiss me.”

So he does.

Time, like most things in Keith’s life, is something he keeps close.

#klance #voltron #vld #laith #keith x lance #keith kogane #lance mcclain #voltron legendary defender #aeon #fanfiction #writing #chomp chomp goes the raptor

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velkynkarma · 4 years

Note

merry april fools day! what about a whump fic where Allura and Coran end up taking care of a bundle of sick humans in their paladins (plus whichever else of the humans are present on the Castle at the time)

You got it! This exists in a miraculous AU where Shiro didn’t die/disappear into the void, Keith still stays at the Castle, and the Castle still exists, because I Can. Also Kosmo is here for some reason, even though it doesn’t technically line up with any timeline. It’s silly sickfic, who cares about timelines, amirite?

———

Allura stares down at the box of recipe cards in her hands and wonders, not for the first time, how she got into this mess.

Well, she knows how, in the broad sense, at least. The team had liberated another planet to join the Voltron Coalition, and had taken part in a wonderful celebration the Kazenites had thrown in thanks. It had been a very nice party, actually. The food was positively divine, and the entertainment had been enjoyable. There had even been a parade, which had cheered Lance in particular immensely. Everyone had fun.

But the next day, everyone—well, almost everyone—had been bedridden, complaining of illness. And the symptoms were positively disgusting. Elevated temperature, mucus-filled noses that made breathing difficult, aches and soreness all over, harsh, wet coughs, and the...expunging of their innards.

The discovery had been frankly revolting.

But Allura was fine. Even Coran, who was an older Altean gentleman, and more prone to some illnesses, remained equally unaffected. They aren’t sure what the cause is—food that humans couldn’t handle, or perhaps a local pathogen on Kazenar—but it seemed only those from Earth had been affected.

It at least meant they weren’t helpless. Allura could wormhole them away if they ran into significant Galra opposition, or handle a smaller force with Coran’s assistance, between the Castle and the Blue Lions. But it did leave the two of them with five humans to care for—a daunting prospect at the best of times.

“Chicken soup,” she murmurs, repeating the phrase Hunk had given her. “Chicken soup…” She frowns. “What exactly is a chicken, and why would one make soup out of it?”

She wonders if it’s anything like the ‘cow,’ Kaltenecker. Perhaps they extract a liquid substance from these ‘chickens’ to consume as a health food.

The thought alone makes her feel sick to her stomach. She certainly hopes she won’t need to extract chicken-liquid. She will do it for her friends, if she absolutely must, but she does not look forward to the prospect.

It truly is a pity that whatever this illness is, is resistant to both her healing abilities learned through alchemy, and the healing pods. Those were the first things they’d tried, when they’d realized the situation was serious.

Unfortunately, the box of recipe cards Hunk had directed her to yields no answers. She had found the box in the kitchen easily enough. But the handwriting on each of the cards, presumably belonging to Hunk, is in a language she doesn’t recognize. She assumes this is some variant of Earthese, but she’s not familiar enough with the characters to be able to decode any of it.

She sighs in frustration, and sets the box on the counter, staring at the cards. Sadly, willing them to become legible doesn’t change anything.

“Why must it be chicken soup?” she mutters. “And why me?”

Well...she knows the answers to those questions too, really. Coran had already tried to make a big batch of terskargal for the paladins, the moment he and Allura had discovered they were all sick. The scent brought back fond memories of old dinners, cozy mornings indoors during the cool season on Altea, and moments of comfort when she had been sick ten thousand years ago.

Unfortunately, the humans had not taken to it so kindly. Shiro had reacted the most politely, in that he had simply said, “No thank you, really,” but his face had turned an interesting shade of green that Allura hadn’t thought non-camouflage based humans capable of. Lance and Pidge had been forced to suppress gags that had threatened to bring up whatever else might be in their stomachs. Hunk had thrown up, and asked why one would ever feed something that smelled so revolting to an ill person. Keith, by far the least affected of the group, had still threatened to throw his bowlful of terskargal out the nearest airlock.

Needless to say, it had not gone over well for a number of reasons. Allura is a little offended that something so comforting to her and her culture could be rejected so blatantly out of hand. But then again, they do also drink cow secretion and think it is delicious. Human taste simply cannot be accounted for.

But it did mean the humans blatantly refused to eat anything prepared by Coran, and they did need nutrients while they were ill. Which meant Allura had been recruited for cooking some variant of human food, in addition to her other caretaking tasks. Coran had instead adjusted to laundering fresh bedding for the humans, and working in the infirmary to synthesize a medicinal cure their bodies could actually process safely.

There is just one problem: Allura is not a terribly skilled cook.

In her defense, cooking was never considered to be a necessary skill-set for an Altean princess. By her tutors’ own words, she had excelled in acceptable subjects—history, military tactics, diplomacy, dance, crystal engineering, etiquette, piloting, energy manipulation, and advanced weapons training in multiple disciplines. Cooking had never been one of those important duties. As a princess, she was expected to have cooks for that.

Still, her friends are sickly, and she would like them to feel better. Sometimes, that means learning something new to heal, even if it is a monumental or difficult task. She will attempt to make this chicken soup, or die trying.

Even if it does mean milking a chicken.

She shudders.

She’ll have to interpret the cards, though, before she can do anything. Pidge had a working knowledge of both the Earth language and Altean. But Pidge was also—if Plachu’s recent mental message was accurate—finally dozing after emptying the contents of her stomach into a bucket for the third time in the last varga. Allura doesn’t have the heart to wake her, not until she has some working chicken soup to offer.

So she does the next best thing, and heads to the lounge to bother Keith instead.

Of the five humans, Keith’s illness is comparatively minor. Which is to say that he’s not throwing up as often as the others, and can maintain a coherent conversation without spinning off into delirious ramblings or passing out. Allura suspects his Galra heritage is giving him some degree of resistance to the illness, whatever it is.

It means Keith has also been her and Coran’s on-call expert any time they need to ask a question about human physiology, or their requirements while ill. After the fifth time they’d knocked on his door to inquire about how much hydration was strictly necessary or which remedies were most common on Earth, he’d finally rolled out of bed and muttered, “I’m just gonna sleep on the couch in the lounge. Less walking for you.”

It had, admittedly, made things a little easier for her and Coran in the long run. So there was that.

Allura finds him in the same spot as before in the lounge, sprawled out lengthwise on one of the couches. Coran had supplied him with several extra pillows and blankets, along with the things they’d so far discovered were important for human health when ill: a pouch of water, and a metal basin for when they inevitably threw it up. Allura is thankful to see that the pouch of water is three-quarters gone, and the basin is completely empty. Cleaning those out is...not an entertaining process.

It’s hard to tell if Keith is awake or not, as his head is currently sandwiched between two pillows. A light blanket covers him. So does Kosmo, who is sprawled out at full cosmic wolf length along the couch, wedged against the couch back and half on top of Keith. His long muzzle rests on Keith’s chest and his nose is buried in what is presumably a comforting fashion in the crook of Keith’s neck, just under the edge of the topmost pillow.

Allura can’t even begin to imagine how any of that is comfortable, but to each their own, she supposes.

Kosmo’s ears flick up as she approaches, and the wolf’s gleaming yellow eyes roll to the side to watch her enter the room. “Is he awake?” she whispers.

Kosmo snuffs, and flicks one ear.

She’s not really sure what she expected, really. They’ve had enough evidence to indicate the cosmic wolf is at least as intelligent as the average human being, but communication is not one of his strengths.

She sighs, but approaches slowly and gently nudges Keith’s shoulder. A congested, muffled snort sounds under the pillow, and then one of Keith’s arms slowly raises to peel it back. He stares blearily at Allura. “What’s wrong now?” he mutters, after a long moment.

“I’m sorry to wake you,” she apologizes. “However, Hunk has instructed me to make chicken soup. I’m not sure how to go about doing so, as the cards with the instructions aren’t in Altean.” And then, before she can lose the nerve to ask, “It won’t require me to milk a chicken, will it?”

Keith stares at her blankly for so long that Allura is afraid he’s grown as ill as the others. She’s been reliably informed that when human body temperature surpases a certain level of internal heat, human brain function can become unreliable. She’s already witnessed it in a few instances and can attest that it’s real.

She’s about to feel Keith’s forehead—this is also, she’s been informed, a reliable way to measure human temperature without an instrument on hand—when he shakes his head. “No. No...milking chickens. Ew.”

That offers at least some relief. Allura lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

“Can you find the card for me?” Allura asks, offering him the box of recipe cards. “And translate it? I will do the rest.”

Keith grumbles under his breath, but dutifully starts to sit up after a moment. Kosmo helps by poofing off of his chest, and reappearing behind him, giving him a large cosmic wolf to help him sit upright against. “Alright. Fine.”

“Thank you,” Allura says gratefully. “I really did not wish to disturb your rest, but I did not see any other option.”

“S’fine,” Keith mutters, as he painstakingly opens the box of recipe cards, and starts flicking through them. It takes him longer than it should, which is a mark of the illness’ effect on him; Keith is normally quite dexterous and quick. The way he squints at each of the cards is certainly far from normal, too. “How’s everyone else doing?”

“Let me check.” Allura closes her eyes, and reaches out with her mental connection to her mice companions.

Keeping track of five human beings had proven a difficult task, especially with all of them ill to varying states, and with Allura and Coran required to perform multiple duties. To that end, Allura had come up with an alternative solution: assigning each of her mice friends to one of the paladins. With a mouse stationed in each room, the humans could be monitored consistently. If the mice thought there was a health concern, Allura could focus on that paladin immediately.

Keith was the exception, stationed in the lounge. But he had Kosmo, and Allura figured the cosmic wolf would be intelligent enough to hunt her or Coran down in the event his master took a turn for the worse.

The check in with the mice yields results fairly quickly. Chuchule reports Shiro sleeping fitfully and waking repeatedly from bad dreams. They will need to find something to settle him so he can actually begin to rest and recover.

Platt shares that Hunk is out of water again, which means Allura will need to stop by soon to replenish the fresh water packs. It is imperative the paladins stay as hydrated as possible or risk becoming sicker.

Chulatt is of the opinion that Lance’s temperature has risen, which has been a problem with their sharpshooter all day. Allura will need to prepare another cold compress to try and help bring his temperature down again.

Plachu reports no change from when Allura had checked in five doboshes ago. Pidge at least is thankfully still sleeping, although the basin she had been vomiting into will need to be cleaned out again. Allura can’t help but sigh.

Honestly. Human illness makes no sense. The slipperies make sense. Stomach parasites make sense. Quintessence weakness makes sense. Randomly becoming unable to breathe easily, overheating, and vomiting for this long, because of visiting a planet? Absurd.

“The same as before,” Allura says, as Keith stops slowly flicking through the cards to give her his best attempt at an inquisitive look. “After you find the card and translate it for me, I will bring them new supplies, and then begin cooking.”

Keith nods slowly, and goes back to his task.

It takes him about five doboshes, but towards the back of the box he finally selects one card and tugs it out. “This one,” he says, and reads out loud, “ ‘Mama Hunk’s Homemade Chicken Soup Recipe, space-ified.’”

“Excellent!” Allura claps her hands together once, and regrets it immediately when Keith winces at the noise. “I’m sorry, she says, contrite. “Please...just translate the instructions for me, and I will do the rest.”

She brings up a holographic screen linked to the Castle’s main database. Whatever she types up here she can easily reach back in the kitchen. She waits expectantly as Keith squints at the card, skimming it once.

“Ingredients’re listed first,” he says finally. “One cup of rice or rice equivalent—”

Allura’s heart immediately sinks. “Wait. What?”

Keith blinks at her, then slowly looks back to the card. “One cup of rice or—”

“No, no, I heard you,” Allura says, a little helpless. “But...a cup? As in, a drinking cup, full of a food item? And what is rice?”

Keith stares at her for a long moment. He blinks slowly, and Allura can almost hear his brain trying to process. Finally, he says, “This isn’t going to go as easy as you thought, huh.”

Humans. She is great friends with them, she respects them for their adaptability and survival skills and potential to learn and create so much.

But often, they simply make no sense.

———-

Allura is forced to take a detour from that poor attempt at decoding chicken soup to deal with her patients.

She makes her rounds with the paladins, dragging a hovering tray with her piled with supplies. She plies them with fresh water and herbal teas and little crackers and cajoles them to at least try them, checks everyone’s temperatures (higher than they should be, but not too dangerous), and cleans out the basins. The last is a truly vile task, but a princess should never expect her people to do something she wouldn’t do herself, no matter how abhorrent.

Some are better patients than others. Shiro wearily thanks her for her assistance and does his best to insist she doesn’t need to focus on him, which she politely disregards. Hunk is asleep by the time she arrives, somewhat thankfully, so he doesn’t have to hear what a debacle the chicken soup fiasco is. Pidge is mostly just happy to have the smell of her basin gone. Lance is possibly the worst; it takes Allura a full five doboshes to convince him to let her assist with a new cold compress and to measure his temperature, as he is, in his own words, “too ugly and gross to even look at right now.”

By the time that exhausting task is done and she returns to the kitchen, Keith is there.

He’s bundled up in one of his blankets and sitting haphazardly at one of the stools adjacent to the counter, with a pillow on said counter and his head flopped on the pillow. Kosmo sits dutifully by his side, attentive just in case his chosen human decides to pass out and collapse to the floor.

“I can help you figure out the soup,” he mumbles into the pillow. He sounds half asleep, but his grayish eyes manage to meet Allura’s as she stares at him, bewildered. “Never made it, but I know what it’s supposed to look like. Kinda. It’ll...it’ll look different with space ingredients, but. Yeah.”

This is one of the most talkative moments she’s ever heard out of Keith, and yet simultaneously one of his more jumbled sentences. Still, Allura is impressed.

Impressed, but not so sure this is a good idea. “You should be resting,” she chastises.

“Shiro and the others need the soup,” Keith argues. It’s less heated than his usual arguments to search for or protect Shiro and the others, but this is probably due to the fatigue and the fact that his stuffed nose makes him sound a bit distorted. “It makes you feel better. And you don’t have medicine yet, so we need the soup.”

Allura sighs. “I would be grateful for your help,” she admits. “But if you strain yourself too much, I will forcibly drag you back to the couch, if need be.”

“I’ve got a teleporting wolf,” Keith argues, a little petulantly. That is highly unusual, but probably another sign of illness. “I can come back.”

By the way Kosmo flattens his ears and half closes his eyes—an approximate summation of an annoyed expression if Allura has ever seen one—she has a feeling Kosmo will not be compliant with that particular rebellious attempt. She smiles understandingly at him.

“Alright,” Allura says. “Let’s try this again.”

Keith manages to explain, in between sniffles and coughs, that ‘cups’—along with ‘teaspoons’ and ‘tablespoons’—are a measurement system for dry and wet goods from one large country on Earth that Hunk hails from. Allura at least knows not to dump an entire drinking cup of food items into the pot she’s procured, but that doesn’t help her know what to actually measure.

Hunk has saved her in this regard, though. Keith produces a second card from the box. “Found this when I looked through again,” he mumbles. “S’got measurement translations. Like doboshes to minutes. But for food.”

That does help. Allura learns very quickly that it’s two quarzaks to a cup, a tablespoon is three quarters of a sestent, and a teaspoon is half of a glurzark, and after that everything makes a lot more sense. She finds the measuring materials that Coran had pulled out for the terskargal earlier, and from there it’s mostly a matter of translating Hunk’s bizarre recipe into sensible measurements.

Knowing what foods to use is a little trickier. But Keith eventually spots a large piece of paper taped to the fridge, and when Allura brings it to him, it’s a list of food equivalents for easy reference. She now understands, for example, that ‘rice’ is an Earth food, but that Hunk has determined it’s comparable to boiled teslak grain.

After that, it’s just a matter of properly parsing the ingredients, chopping them into smaller pieces, and carefully measuring. That part is simple by comparison. It’s a lot like rudimentary alchemy, and she had always enjoyed her father’s early alchemy books.

In the end, the pot on the stove bubbles merrily with some Earth concoction. It doesn’t smell as comforting as Coran’s terskargal, but it’s not unpleasant, and there was—thankfully—no need to milk any chickens, as Keith had promised. The chicken, as it turned out, was the shredded and boiled meat of the creature on their homeworld. Although it had been replaced with alkecha bird in this case, which Hunk had determined had a similar nutrition content.

Kieth dozes against the counter, face mashed into his pillow, with Kosmo’s muzzle resting gently on his knee. He hasn’t been needed for the last half a varga, now that Allura has an understanding of what she’s doing, but now is the moment of truth. She ladles some of the soup into a bowl, and nudges Keith’s shoulder gently. “I believe it’s done. Would you give it a try?”

Keith blinks awake. Allura places the bowl and spoon on the table. Keith gives it an experimental stuffy sniff before scooping up some of the vegetables, broth, and shredded blue meat, blowing to cool it, and giving it a try.

“Well?”

He considers. “Think it’s okay,” he says, after a moment. “Had to tell with my nose stuffed. It’s not that other stuff Coran tried to feed us, though—”

“—terskargal,” Allura supplies helpfully.

“—so I think the others could stomach it,” Keith finishes.

It’s not exactly glowing praise, but Allura will take it. “Thank you for your help,” she says, smiling. “I’ll leave the bowl for you—please try to eat it, and then go lay down again. Kosmo—make sure he does both of those things. We want him to feel better, too.”

Kosmo takes his muzzle off of Keith’s knee and offers her a flick of the ears and an almost human nod. Keith mutters to himself tiredly, but pulls the bowl closer to eat.

Allura fills several more bowls and sets them on a hovering tray, along with more water and other supplies the team might need. The mice haven’t reported anything alarming, but it never hurts to be proactively prepared. She leaves one of the bowls on the floor for Kosmo, who gives her an appreciative wuff of thanks before sticking his nose in it, and then pulls the tray after her to the paladin’s quarters.

Hunk is the first stop, for the real test of her cooking capabilities. Allura knocks and lets herself in at Hunk’s weak acknowledgement, and smiles sympathetically at the human flopped uncomfortably in bed. “I used your recipe and created some of that chicken soup of yours,” Allura says. “Would you like to try it?”

Hunk’s eyes light up. “Do I!” he says. “Mama Hunk’s recipe is good for the stomach. Keeps you fed and from throwing it up again.” And based on how wan he looks, he certainly needs the nutrients. All of them do—they’ve been throwing up all quintent. Keeping down even a little bit will do them all wonders.

“It’s my first time cooking it,” Allura says, as she sets one of the bowls and a glass of water on a smaller floating tray. “You’ll have to let me know what you think.”

She helps Hunk sit up, propping him with several pillows. Hunk is not at his strongest, but he does manage to take a spoonful of soup, blowing it on it carefully before trying. He swallows, considers, and finally says, “For your first time, it’s not too bad. Way better than that other stuff Coran gave us.”

That does seem to be the general opinion. Why, Allura will never understand. Terskargal has got to be better than this.

“I’m glad it is acceptable,” Allura says, smiling, and keeping her true thoughts to herself. “Will you be okay to eat while I deliver the rest to the others?”

“Sure,” Hunk says. “They should definitely all get some.” He sniffles uncomfortably, but then helps himself to another spoonful of soup. “It’ll definitely help everyone feel better. Good healthy stuff in here.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Allura says. “I’ll be back to collect your dishes in a little bit.”

The next varga is a busy one, as Allura delivers the rest of the soup, helps everyone sit up and get acclimated, and supervises in the cases where her patients are a little too wobbly or disoriented to be left with a hot bowl of liquids alone. The mice, thank the ancients, are invaluable in monitoring the process, keeping her updated on everyone’s status as she rotates room to room. By the time she’s finished making sure everyone has eaten and hydrated, collected the dirty dishes, refilled on water, cleaned out basins again, and made a mental note of which paladins’ sweat-dampened sheets need to be changed by Coran (something that does make sense to her as an Altean), she’s exhausted.

Keith, at least, is no trouble. She swings through the lounge to check on him, on her way back with the dirty dishes. He’s sound asleep again on the couch, with Kosmo once more stretched out atop him, nose snuggled into Keith’s neck. His empty bowl has been left neatly in the sink, and Kosmo’s is out of the way on the floor, licked clean.

Allura wearily collects the dishes and sets them into the automated cleaner. The rest of the soup is still kept warm on the stove, ready if anyone else needs it. She’ll need to check in soon with Coran on his progress, but for now, everyone is as cared for as can be, at least for the moment.

Really, caretaking is so much work. Especially with five humans to look after. She has much more appreciation for her mother, and for Coran, and the servants of ten thousand years ago. But she’s proud of herself, too, for being able to handle it all. Who would have thought looking after five sick paladins would be more exhausting than an entire Voltron battle?

At least she’d done it, and everyone had looked marginally better after the soup. No one can ever say she wouldn’t do anything for her friends. And she hadn’t even been required to milk a chicken.

Thank the ancients for small favors.

#Velkynkarma writes #Voltron #Allura #Keith #Hunk #Kosmo #space mice #the rest are there too but just kinda mentioned #sickfic #April Fools 2020 #Anonymous

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voltrontranscript · 4 years

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VLDS7E7: The Last Stand, Part 1

Season 7 Episode 7: The Last Stand, Part 1

Transcript by @dragonofyang

Episode Summary: The Paladins make their way back to Earth, but upon reaching out to Sam Holt, discover Earth’s distress beacon and that the Galra have invaded. We catch up with Sam and the technological developments on Earth since his return four years prior to the Paladins’ approach, and the trials Sam and Colleen face when in the heart of the Garrison.

[Google Doc]

Hunk: I can’t believe it. We’re finally back to Earth.

Keith: Well, what are we waiting for?

Pidge: I’ll see if I can get a message out to my dad. Dad, it’s me, Pidge. Do you copy? We’re back in Earth’s solar system, and heading home now.

Sam’s voice: To any beings who receive this message--

Pidge: Dad, you’re okay. How’s Mom and Matt? Is he with you?

Sam’s voice: Planet Earth has been… Most of the citizens…

Pidge: Hold on, let me try to get a clear signal.

Sam’s voice: ...have been captured.

Pidge: What? Who’s captured? Dad, what are you saying?

Sam’s voice: Those of us remaining are making our last stand. If you get this message, please get word to Voltron. We need help.

Keith: Guys, are you seeing this?

Sam’s voice: To any beings who receive this message…

Allura: Oh, no.

Sam’s voice: ...Planet Earth has been overrun by the Galra.

Lance: The Galra have invaded Earth.

Sam’s voice: Most of the citizens have been captured. Those of us remaining are making our last stand. If you get this message, please get word to Voltron. We need help.

Hunk: It’s not a reply. It’s a distress signal.

Pidge: Dad.

[Scene change to a flashback, labeled “Four years earlier…”.]

Sam: Admiral Sanda, how long have I--?

Sanda: It’s been about a week since you landed. Sorry, we’ve had you under for most of the time.

Sam: A week?

Sanda: We had to run tests. You spent years in an alien environment. Look, Sam, the joint chiefs are eager to hear what you have to tell us.

Sam: Tell the chiefs I’ll debrief when I’m ready. There’s someone I need to see first.

[Scene change to a lounge in the Galaxy Garrison.]

Colleen: Sam.

Sam: Colleen, I’ve missed you so much.

Colleen: I thought you were dead. I thought I’d never see you again.

Sam: You’re squeezing me pretty tight. Being abducted by aliens didn’t kill me, but I think you might.

Colleen: Aliens?

Sam: On the Kerberos mission. Matt, Shiro, and I were taken by hostile aliens.

Colleen: So Matt is with you?

Sam: No, but he’s alive and safe. So is Katie. They’re together. Last time I saw them, they were just outside the planet Olkarion. They saved me. There was a device on my pod, a transmitter. Where is it? I can use it to contact my children and the other Paladins, cadets.

Sanda: I’m afraid we can’t allow you to broadcast yet. We need more information before you start sending messages into deep space. Any contact with alien species needs to be run through the appropriate channels. We need to be sure you’re not putting Earth in danger, Sam.

Colleen: I don’t care about your channels. I want to talk to my children.

Sanda: And you will, soon. We just want to debrief you first.

Colleen: Tell them what you know, then we can talk to our children and get you home.

Sanda: I’m afraid we can’t allow Sam to leave the premises. We’re not prepared to tell the world about the existence of alien life just yet. Remember, everyone thinks you’re dead.

Sam: So you’re holding me like a prisoner?

Sanda: Not a prisoner. You’re free to move about within the Garrison grounds. Just until we’re ready.

Colleen: If he’s staying, I’m staying, too.

Sanda: I’m afraid you don’t have the clearance, Colleen.

Colleen: This is the only family I have left. You’ll get me the clearance.

[Scene change to a meeting room in the Galaxy Garrison.]

Iverson: Here’s what we know. Two years ago, during your Kerberos mission, our scans picked up an anomaly at your location. Minutes later, we lost contact with you and the rest of the crew. In the immediate aftermath, we intercepted a transmission.

Unnamed Galra Commander’s voice: We found these primitive scientists. I don’t think they know anything useful.

Zarkon’s voice: Take them back to the main fleet for interrogation. The Druids will find out what they know.

Sam: That last voice is Zarkon, the emperor of an advanced hostile alien race known as the Galra.

Unnamed officer: How advanced?

Unnamed officer 2: And how do you know they’re hostile?

Sam: Do you have the device I asked for? The one from my pod?

Sanda: Bring it to him.

Sam: Before I left, I downloaded as much information as I could from the Castle of Lions. For ten thousand years, Zarkon has been expanding his empire, conquering vast swaths of the universe and harnessing its quintessence in order to survive and maintain power.

Sanda: Quintessence?

Sam: It’s an energy generated by living beings.

Bearded officer: You mean certain alien beings?

Sam: No. Quintessence is within us all.

Bearded officer: Impossible. We’ve never come across anything like that.

Sam: Maybe because this is beyond the realm of what you think you know. Have you ever traveled faster than the speed of light? Have you ever seen a living creature bio-hack nature? Have you ever come face to face with an alien warlord who’s older than the entirety of human civilization? Well, I have. And I assure you, it’s all real. Following our abduction, Shiro, Matt, and I were taken by Galra scouts to the main fleet where we were interrogated. After that, we were split up. I spent the next year at a remote outpost, working alongside other captive scientists researching and creating new technologies to be used by the Galra. I later learned that Shiro and Matt had been sent to fight in the gladiator pits. Matt would’ve been killed, but Shiro, he saved my son’s life. Later, Matt was rescued from a work camp by alien rebels. He now works alongside them, fighting back against the Galra. During his time on Zarkon’s command ship, Shiro discovered that Zarkon was looking for a super weapon hidden on Earth. Shiro escaped to get the weapon first.

Iverson: That must be when Lieutenant Shirogane returned to Earth.

Sam: That’s right.

Iverson: Following Garrison protocol, we placed Lieutenant Takeshi Shirogane under mandatory quarantine, but he managed to escape with the aid of several Garrison cadets. We later found out the one known as Pidge Gunderson was your daughter, Katie Holt, who had illegally enrolled in the cadet program under an assumed identity. The following day, the Blue Lion appeared on our radars. Long-range sensors tracked the UFO to the edge of our solar system traveling at speeds we’ve never achieved. It disappeared along with the ship. That was the last activity we had until your pod arrived on Earth a month ago.

Glasses officer: So that Blue Lion, that was the super weapon?

Sam: Part of it. The super weapon is known as Voltron. It’s made up of five mechanical lions. As fate would have it, when Shiro crashed on Earth, those same Garrison students that got him out of quarantine became the pilots, or Paladins, of the five lions of Voltron. The Paladins are doing everything they can to protect the universe from the Galra. But we must begin to bolster Earth’s defenses now, or we do not stand a chance. War is coming.

Iverson: So this Zarkon, you think he’ll attack Earth?

Sam: No. Zarkon is dead, but the Galra Empire is not stopping. There are factions fighting for control and looking to dominate their own sections of the universe. Without a clear leader, things are worse than before.

Iverson: So what do we do?

Sam: We hold a conference and announce what we know to the world.

Sanda: Absolutely not.

Sam: They need to know. And if we can bring the world’s top minds together, it might mean the difference--

Sanda: If we told the world there was an imminent attack, we’d set off a global panic.

Sam: But there will be an attack.

Sanda: When? How will the attack happen? Is there a plan to stop it? None of these things have been discussed. None of these things have been thought through, and until they are, we’re not going to be responsible for sending the world into disarray.

Sam: If you would allow me to contact Katie and the Paladins right now, we could begin to answer those questions.

Sanda: Very well.

Sam: This is Sam Holt calling the Paladins of Voltron. I’m on Earth. Please respond. Pidge, this is Dad. Come in.

Colleen: Katie, it’s your mom. Are you there?

Sam: The transmission’s not being received. There might be interference. We need to keep trying.

Sanda: We can have someone send out regular transmissions around the clock until we hear from them. But in the meantime, we stay quiet.

Sam: Very well, but we should at least begin preparations.

Iverson: We already have.

[Cut to an elevator in the Galaxy Garrison.]

Iverson: We’ve been studying the ship that Shiro crash landed in for the last year, and we’ve begun research on the ship you arrived in. We thought the technology would be exactly the same, but that’s not the case.

Sam: That’s because one is Galran and the other Altean, created by two different alien species. So, did you get it airborne?

Iverson: Unfortunately, no. We got the nav system and other instruments turned on by powering them externally, but the power it would take to fly them is unsustainable.

Sam: Hmm. The crystal must have been damaged on entry if you couldn’t power it.

Sanda: Crystal?

Sam: It’s the main energy source for most alien spacecraft. If you haven’t been able to get it running, then what have you been doing with it?

Sanda: We created a simulator based on the controls so that when we figure out how to integrate the tech into our own ships, we’ll be ready to fly.

Iverson: Commander Holt, I’d like to introduce you to the best pilots to come out of the Galaxy Garrison in the last year. These are officers Griffin, Rizavi, Kinkade, and Leifsdottir. They’re young, but their ability to adapt to new flying techniques is a step above.

Griffin: On behalf of my squadron, it’s an honor to meet you, sir.

Iverson: I’ve got them running drills in the simulator five days a week. They can take just about anything you can throw at them.

Sam: Good. Now it’s time to get them out of the simulator and flying these things for real.

Rizavi: But they aren’t working, sir.

Sam: Then we better get them working.

[Scene change to outside the Galaxy Garrison.]

Griffin: No way.

Rizavi: When can we fly them, sir?

Sam: You’re gonna be flying ships much faster and much more maneuverable than this in no time.

Rizavi: Sir?

Sam: This is just an Altean shuttle pod. The engine and functions are extremely basic. If we’re going to defend the planet against the Galra, we’re going to need better ships.

[Scene change to the Galaxy Garrison meeting room.]

Sam: When I was enslaved by the Galra, I was forced to work on technologies that are a hundred times more complex than a simple pod. And after I regrouped with the Paladins, I continued learning alongside the Olkari, some of the most amazing engineers I’ve ever had the honor to work with. They taught me everything I know about integrating technologies. These are Altean schematics. We’re gonna use these to upgrade our weapons, build new ships, and create a defense for Earth. Engineers will be in charge of salvaging what they can from the pods. Repurposing parts is of the utmost importance. Our pilots must get out of the simulators and into real ships powered by crystal technology if they hope to stand a chance against Galran battle tactics. It’s gonna be a steep learning curve, but I know they’ll get it. The Garrison will become the epicenter of technological advances beyond what this world has ever seen. In the meantime, we will continue our attempts to contact Matt and the Paladins. It’s imperative that we find out what’s happening beyond our galaxy. There is a war coming, and we need to be prepared.

[Scene change to another flashback, labeled “One year later…”.]

Griffin: Sorry, guess I’m too quick.

Rizavi: Not for my micro-pulse boosters!

Sam: How’s the response time compared to the previous generation?

Rizavi: Instantaneous, sir. It’s like it knows what I wanna do before I think it.

Iverson: It’s amazing what you’ve done in just over a year.

Sam: We’ve done it together.

Unnamed female officer: Sir, you’re needed in the communications room immediately.

[Scene change to the Garrison’s communications room.]

Colleen: It’s Matt. He contacted us.

Matt: Mom, is that Dad?

Colleen: He just got here.

Sam: Matt, are you okay? I’ve been trying to contact you and Katie for months. Where are you? What’s going on?

Matt: So, you didn’t hear yet?

Sam: Hear what?

Matt: Mom, Dad, no one has seen or heard from the Paladins in the last six months.

Colleen: No…

Sam: Katie… What happened?

Matt: No one is really sure. There are rumors that Voltron fought Lotor, then they just disappeared.

Sam: So, they could still be alive.

Matt: No one knows. But, Dad, listen to me. You need to stop broadcasting from Earth. Members of the Blade of Marmora and the Voltron Coalition are being hunted. Our army has been all but wiped out. The situation is bad out here, and the last thing we need is to put Earth in danger.

Sam: But how will I get ahold of you?

Matt: I have to go. I’ll contact you when I’m safe. I love you both.

[Scene change to Admiral Sanda’s office.]

Sam: It’s time. We need to tell the rest of the world the situation.

Sanda: Sam, I’m sorry to hear about your daughter, but we can’t get off course.

Sam: If we want to finish the IGF-ATLAS, we need more resources and more manpower. The world needs to come together so that we can take the fight to the Galra.

Sanda: You’re too emotional right now and you’re not thinking straight. We’re not building ships to go fight aliens in different galaxies.

Sam: But they need us!

Sanda: The citizens of Earth need us.

Sam: And yet you refuse to tell them the truth!

Iverson: Maybe we should talk about this later.

Sanda: We can talk later, but my decision will be the same. We’re not telling the people of Earth, and we’re not fighting in someone else’s war.

[Scene change to the Holt’s private quarters.]

Colleen: They’re gonna be okay.

Sam: They will be okay because they’re strong just like their mother.

Colleen: We’ve gotta do something. We can’t just sit here while our children are in danger.

Sam: We’re doing everything we can with the limited personnel we have.

Colleen: Then we’ll get more personnel and more resources. The admiral is making decisions for the rest of the world. I say let them make decisions for themselves.

Sam: You wanna tell the world? The repercussions could be serious. They could kick us out of the Garrison.

Colleen: It’s risky, but that ship may never get done otherwise. And I’ll do whatever it takes to see my kids again.

Sam: Okay.

[Cut to Sam and Colleen walking into the communications hub.]

Sam: You’re sure you wanna do this?

Colleen: I’m sure.

Sam: Alright, I’ll be broadcasting on every channel. You ready?

Colleen: Citizens of Earth, my name is Colleen Holt. I am the wife of famed astronaut, Sam Holt, and mother of Matt Holt. Two years ago, it was believed that they died during a deep space mission. That was a lie. My husband, along with his crew, were abducted by an alien race known as the Galra, a fact that was covered up by the Galaxy Garrison.

[Cut to Admiral Sanda’s office.]

Unnamed soldier: Admiral, you need to see this. They’re broadcasting on every channel.

Colleen: A year ago, my husband returned to Earth, but the Garrison forced him to stay in hiding.

Sanda’s voice: I’m afraid we can’t allow Sam to leave the premises. We’re not prepared to tell the world about the existence of alien life just yet.

Sam: But I refuse to stay hidden any longer. We desperately need your help. Not every alien species is friendly, and Planet Earth must be protected. Here at the Garrison, we’ve been working on creating advanced ships and weaponry.

Sanda: Get the rest of the guards.

Colleen: The footage you are about to see is real.

Sam: These are the Galra. If they find Earth, they will attack, and we must be prepared.

Griffin: Huh. Guess the cat’s out of the bag, huh?

Colleen: But there are those that have spent years protecting us. They are the Paladins of Voltron, and they come from Earth.

Hunk: Ugh, I can’t wait to be back home. I’m not really sure when that’ll be, but when I get there, I really want Uncle Filo to make some of his amazing pork lau lau. I can almost taste it now.

Lance: Hi, Mom, hi, Dad. It’s me, Lance. I’m here in outer space somewhere. I, um, uh, don’t really know what to say. Uh, I miss you guys. I miss you guys a lot.

Pidge: Mom, I’m so sorry I left without saying goodbye. I think of you every day.

Colleen: Now is the time to come together. To protect our world, we must be united under one cause.

Sanda: Override the lock. Lock them up.

Iverson: For what?

Sanda: For divulging top secret information.

Sam: Now, now, Admiral. Don’t get emotional.

Sanda: You disregarded a direct order.

Sam: You held me at the Garrison against my will. You lied about my death. You wanna control every situation, but face it. You can’t. The world needed to know this, and now that they do, it will be better for us. Right now, the world needs a leader that’s not afraid to face facts and you’re not it.

Sanda: And you think you are?

Sam: Yes.

Sanda: Get these traitors out of here.

Iverson: Stop. If Sam goes, I go too.

Glasses officer: Admiral Sanda, calls are coming in from all over the world. Citizens want to know how they can help. It’s incredible.

Sam: It worked.

[Scene change to the desert outside of the Galaxy Garrison.]

Sam: That’s the last one.

Griffin: Think it’ll work?

Sam: Well, particle barriers are tricky, but if my calculations are right, these just might act as a perimeter. What’s that?

Griffin: I don’t know. I didn’t think we were doing any test flights today.

Sam: They’re here. Activate the particle barrier immediately.

Woman: Are you sure, sir? We haven’t run diagnostics--

Sam: Do it, now!

End.

#voltron #vld #transcript #lance #allura #hunk #pidge #keith #sam holt #colleen holt #commander iverson #admiral sanda #james griffin #rizavi #leifsdottir

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mizu-writes-kumo · 5 years

Note

For your dark shance au, think you could write the first time dark shance met. Like maybe evil lance tells canon lance about in a flashback or something please?

Yes, I very much can. I did mention a bit how the meet in the first fic I ever did for this...but I did like diving into it more. Because honestly Honvera and Zarakon’s first meeting is adorable, and like I love it for Shance too...so yeah.

You can read it on AO3: Chapter 4: Save Me from Myself

Here you go, I hope you like it...

----

“So…like you and…” The alternate human version of himself started out. Using his chatter to distract from the fact that he is testing the tight bonds that strap him down to the table. “The...glowy-eyed....version of Shiro....are like a thing?”

Lance raised an eyebrow slightly at the question.

Well more the wording of the question.

Such dated human slang.

But that it the most he does in terms of a reaction.

Not even sparing the other version of himself a glance beyond what he can see in his peripheral vision. It’s more than enough to see the other test at the bonds that give nothing to him, as Lance continued to look at the readouts of his datapad. Recording the base levels the other gives off before he does his experiment so he can compare later.

“You know...a thing...together...a couple.”

“Emperor Shirogane is my husband, yes.” Lance answered flatly.

The other version of him made a strangled sound.

Looking a bit taken by surprise by the fact when Lance looked up from his readings. As well as uncertain of how to take the fact. Sort of like he figured it, but the confirmation still slapped him hard in the face.

“Oh…” He started again as Lance placed his datapad down. “Well...um...that’s…How did you two meet then?”

“My sister introduced us to each other.” Lance answered flatly as he approached the table. Tapping at the bonds on the other’s wrists just to check. “Many decapheebs ago.”

Though the memory of it doesn’t really feel like it.

Lance let out a breath of frustration.

Ancients, why did he let Allura talk him into doing this.

He was content and happy with his work back on Altea. Theorizing and exploring the bonds of Alchemy, working out how to better develop technology and life, teaching a few classes here and there. It wasn’t the most exciting some days, but Lance didn’t mind. He felt like he had something of purpose there, than well...anywhere else.

It was a good thing he had going.

But Allura had to come to talk him into helping researching the rift a comet tore into...reality on their good ally’s planet, Earth.

Well it was more like complimented and begged him to join.

Because Lance, at first really didn’t want to at first.

Allura had persisted though, claiming he was by far the best qualified for the job. The top Alchemist on Altea, who better than that for the job, really. And this was like nothing they had ever seen before. There was so much he could possibly learn from it, both in observation and trying to close it. He would be right at the forefront of great discoveries. And how she wasn’t asking at his Queen but as his sister, and she will just persist until he said yes.

Though she conveniently left out the part about dealing with humans.

Most specifically, humans that have little to no regard for sensitive instruments and don’t listen to him. Especially when he tells them to be careful.

Honestly they created twice as much work for Lance.

As if he didn’t already have a ton of data to shift through and organize.

It was just…

…

A lot.

Part of him wished he had asked Allura if he could help her research the comet. But there was something in her eyes that Lance knew not to get in the way of. He can only hope it doesn’t over take her.

Though the rift was far more interesting.

So…

There he was.

“And you are totally sure it is safe, Allura?” An unfamiliar male voice asked behind Lance.

“Yes, the rift is well and fully contained.” Allura’s voice returned easily. “And all our readings indicate things are at normal human levels.”

Lance turned to the sound of his sister’s voice. She was just in front of the central containment unit for the rift. She was dressed a lightly armored dress that was expected of her, as the Altean Queen, when she visits foreign planets. Especially to such places like the military base they were on currently.

Beside her was a man Lance had never seen before. He was taller than her, with broad shoulders, dark hair, and structured facial features. He’s dressed in the gray uniforms everyone on around the base wore...save the younger cadets still in training that would run around. His uniform was decorated with all times of things that indicate rank and achievements.

Lance was too far away to see what they were. Not that he would really know what any of them meant if he could see.

As an Altean Prince, he should know probably know them.

But as a researcher, Lance just doesn’t have the time.

“Your people should be able to start staying longer than a varga at a time, and start to join our team full time by the end of the next movement.” Allura continued pleasantly to the man. Making a board gesture to the room and equipment around them. “Everything should be in order by then, everyone should be settled in by then. And it should be a smoother transition for those involved.

Lance watched as the man nodded at his sister’s words, before he reached down to piece out a digital read out sheet.

The man looked at them for a moment. A clear look of confusion on his face, as he can’t seem to make out what it means. Or maybe even what it’s for. Tilting he has a bit from side to side some as he looked at it. Though he did look like he was trying to desperately understand what it was as Allura turned to ask someone a question as they past by. He just can’t seem to work it out for the life of him, looking more out of his depths with each passing second.

Possibly because he had he read out sheet upside down.

Lance couldn’t help the smile that came to his lips.

The man look rather...cute.

And he found himself walking over towards the two after a tick of watching the man some more.

“Here,” Lance started warmly as he grabbed the bottom of the sheet gently. Easily pulling it from the man’s grasp to flip it over the right way. “It was upside down.” He added as he held it back for the man to grab.

The man blinked at him in surprise.

Before his cheeks changed color slightly.

“Oh, thank you…” He muttered out softly, before he turned back to the read out...and continued to look lost.

Which caused Lance to smile more.

Yet before Lance could give him some guidance as to what it all meant, Allura noticed his presence.

Beaming brightly at Lance like she hadn’t seen him in movements. Despite seeing him that morning for breakfast, because she had to see how he was settling in, and tell him she was introducing the human liaison, the officials has appointed to oversee everything. The one he would report to and likely work closely with among the others.

“Lance, there you are!” She exclaimed, before turning towards the man beside her. “This is Commander Takashi Shirogane. He’s been appointed to oversee this operation.” Allura introduced the man with a grin. “Shiro, this is my brother, Prince Lance. He's one of the top alchemists Altea has to offer, and the best person for this job.”

Lance resisted the urge to rule his eyes at Allura’s words.

Instead settling for offering his hand out, as per Earthen custom, to the Commander with a smile. “So, are you the Shiro I’ve heard so much about from Allura, but always seem to miss?”

It was an educated guess that the man was the same Shiro that was Allura had befriended, along with three other humans, some decapheebs back. Lance had never really had met the man. Unlike the other three, Lance always seemed to just miss Shiro, either arriving after he left, or vise versa. And Allura never really shared anything beyond verbal stories about the ventures she had with her allied friends.

Not that Lance minded.

Allura and him both lived separate lives after their father died and Allura ascended to the throne. The only really friends they truly shared was Coran. Well...okay maybe Hunk as well, but that was still a budding sort of relationship of Lance’s side.

And that was totally fine with the two.

But still, the brief informal behavior Lance had observed between the two. It didn’t seem like too much of a leap to assume.

The Commander smiled in return as he took Lance’s hand and gave it a solid shake. “Does Allura know many Shiros?” He asked as he turned to give Allura a bit of a look as she huffed at him slightly.

“I am aware of only one, Commander Shirogane.” Lance returned as he pulled his hand away.

“Then I must be the one, Prince Lance.” Commander Shirogane stated easily.

“Lance is find, Commander.” Lance corrected warmly. “I’m afraid my young nephew holds the prince title more than I do now. Nor are formalities really needed if we are going to be working together on a day to day basis.”

“Or course.” Commander Shirogane said with a nod. “Then you can call me Shiro. Everyone pretty much does it. It’s less of a mouthful.”

Lance can’t help the small bark of laughter that left his lips.

And Allura smiled on at the two.

“Are you and your version of Shiro a...thing?” Lance asked in a bored hum as he doubled checked one last time that the bonds were secure. He peered down at his human counterpart with something of a curious expression.

A version of Shiro had not been on the little group they had been delivered. But the group clearly knew Shiro by his appearance. So they likely know him in some capacity they just haven’t disclosed yet. Lance wonders what Shiro might be, but not to much. It isn’t relevant to the experiments he has planned, or anything else really. And frankly it probably never really would.

It was just a curiosity.

The human version of himself glares back at him for a tick or two.

“No.” He finally admits in a harsh tone.

“Shame.” Lance stated, before he gamed his fingers into the other’s chest and let the energy of his alchemy flow.

The experiments had begun.

----

AN: Another cliff hanger.

Though spoiler alert, Lance doesn't actually get hurt from the experiments exactly.

This takes place before the previous chapter. By like a day or two. Because I imagine the Paladins being stuck there for a while. Though between the two dimensions time works differently. It flows the same way in each, but a few vargas in one, could mean a whole like half day in another.

Sorry for the weird pacing, that is all me. I tried to rush writing this...

Any way, I hope you all enjoyed it.

#shance #dark shance au #dark shance #altean lance #witch lance #Emperor Shirogance #first meet #it is soft #mentions of torture #mentions of experimentation #the two lances talk #I don't know how else to tag this #it is fluff in the darkness

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solangelover · 5 years

Text

Voltron AU

Solangelo Week 2k19: Day 4 – “AU / Crossover” @solangeloweek

A/N: If you didn’t know, I’m a HUGE Voltron fan (it’s not perfect but it’s good okay). BUT this AU says nothing about my Voltron opinions/ships. I tried matching characters by personality, skills, looks, etc. I’m gonna lay out my headcanons and whatnot for today, then later will write it up (perhaps several pieces if it’s well-received/I get too into it lol).

Nico is obviously the Red Paladin/Keith. Literally, one of the biggest reasons I started the show is that when Keith came on screen I FREAKED OUT because IT WAS NICO DI ANGELO ANIMATED. They’re different, of course, but there’s just so many similarities that I can’t help it. Nico and Keith are impulsive fighters, very angry, feel a lot but don’t show emotions much, skilled swordsmen, broody, have had shitty lives, lost family, found new family, AND they look veerrryyy similar. I just love my emo badass boys.

Jason is the Black Paladin/Shiro. He’s the leadership type, but not super-commander like Reyna. He’s still young, but he’s mature and is skilled with battle tactics and such. Good fighter, has an added power thing (Shiro’s arm is not normal, just like Jason’s lightning/flying abilities).

Frank is the Yellow Paladin/Hunk. This was largely based on build/stature. But, there’s also their sweet personality. Both boys can be pretty fierce in battle as well.

Annabeth is the Green Paladin/Pidge. Of course, this is based on being the brain of the group. Annabeth is the smartest character, very analytical and all that. She does have added battle strategy that Pidge doesn’t have, but demigods also don’t interact with technology enough for her to be a hacker in the PJO-verse. She could probably pick it up, I mean she is the only one who had/frequently used a computer.

Percy is the Blue Paladin/Lance. Several reasons: blue (duh), suave (even if it’s a bit of an act, there’s a certain amount of smoothness that comes naturally), talker (idk if Percy talks a lot but he does have that sassy mouth), good fighter (aren’t they all), loves home (Percy just wants to be happy with his mom dammit), loves the ocean (DUH), jokes around always (appropriate or not). Yeah all that.

Piper is the Altean Princess/Allura. She can be regal/formal when she needs to be. But, of course, she’s young and acts her age when she can. Charm speak is basically Allura in any diplomatic thing, smoothing things over, convincing the paladins of something, heading the coalition, all that. Also, they’re both beautiful and strong women.

Leo is the Royal Advisor/Coran. This makes me laugh just thinking about it lol. They’re both silly, loud, long-winded, but also smart, serious when need be, handymen, and love the things they build/maintain (Festus and the Castle of Lions).

Will is a Blade of Marmora Medic. As much as I want him to be a paladin, he just didn’t fit. I wanted to make him the Yellow Paladin, and some elements could work, but ultimately, I love him as a healer and as a “side character.” He’s got a side role, but an important one for the Blade, who are important in the war. It allows him to still heal and have that insecurity of not being a fighter in this AU.

Hazel is a Blade of Marmora Agent. I needed to put her somewhere, but now I think more about it, it works GREAT. This works with Nico/Keith being part Galra and joining the Blade at one point to discover his family, which here would be Hazel. Hazel is a good fighter and, if she’s half human or some other alien race, then she can have added abilities (like Lotor’s generals). That would make Nico and Hazel half siblings on the Galra side, just like PJO/HOO on the godly side.

Reyna is a Blade of Marmora Commander (like Kolivan). She’s strong, an amazing fighter, experienced leader, knows battle tactics, makes tough choices, and is instrumental in the war. She also doesn’t show much emotion and focuses on the mission.

(I originally had the BoM people as Rebels, but BoM is so much better)

So, when Nico goes to the Blade, he finds his sister, meets Reyna, and falls for Will. Also, Reyna and Hazel know Will and could tease him haha. Piper and Leo being the Altean duo is kind of funny and perfect, them being best friends and all. Honestly, the paladins are all a little randomly put together and it’d be really interesting to see the five of them kick off the whole journey (a lot would be exploring Frank’s character, who really didn’t get enough, which is why it was hard to place him).

I actually love how this AU sounds. Idk really how I’d write this, because that’s a LOT and I want to do it justice, but also big AUs like this aren’t my strong suit. But with all the characters established, I could probably figure out a Solangelo piece just starting in medias res and maybe build around it MAYBE.

Anyways, thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!

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rainforestgeek · 5 years

Text

If you lose your strength to stand (I’m gonna reach for your hand) pt. 15 “We Made it This Far”

Part 14

AO3 link

“How the HELL is a ship that huge so maneuverable?” Hunk yelled. He sounded personally affronted by the freak of engineering before him. “She’s deflecting and dodging all of our attacks!”

“If she’s focusing in on us as Voltron maybe we need more targets. We should separate the Lions because we’re getting nowhere like this,” Allura said.

“Pidge, could we disable it from the inside like you did at Olkarion and find Shiro?” Keith asked.

“No way we’ll be able to sneak onto that ship! Haggar’s a lot less stupid than Sendak, no amount of espionage will fool her,” Pidge said.

“I agree,” Allura said. “If I know Altean alchemy, I can say Haggar’s magic will render any attempt at sneaking worthless. We need a more direct approach.”

Lance breathed in then out, thinking as quickly as he could. His mind felt sharp in the violet light of the Black cockpit. It’s like he’d struck a balance between Blue’s laid-back cool and Red’s hot passion and landed in a powerful place between the two. “All right. The Blades have engaged most of the fleet, so we shouldn’t deal with too much of their backup - Pidge, I want you invisible and taking out any fighters that peel away from the fight and towards us. Me and Hunk will blast our way into the main ship. Once there’s an opening, Allura and Keith, you fly in and find Haggar and anything that looks Shiro related. Allura you stand the best chance against the witch. Keith and his sword are on robot duty. Improvise if you have to. We all clear?”

Instead of the resounding yeah! he’d gotten last time he called out a plan, Lance heard three “got it”s and a sarcastic “aye, captain” from Pidge. They split apart, and immediately the Green Lion vanished from his sensors.

“Hunk, Allura, where are her labs most likely to be on that kind of ship?”

Allura answered, “I would think toward the center in the ship.”

“Great, ‘cause we gotta disable and open up the ship without destroying anything she might have about Shiro.”

“Then our best bet is the engine room at the lower stern,” Hunk yelled. “Wait guys, hold on!”

“We can’t hold on, Hunk, we’re in the middle of a battle!”

“My lion’s trying to tell me something, Lance, so just give me a moment .” He sounded like he was concentrating hard on something.

Lance huffed. “Keith, help me defend Hunk or he’s dead in the water.”

“You got it.”

They kept up deflecting attacks, covering each other and baiting and distracting the freak-of -mechanics warship. Sometimes Lance thought he saw it change shape. He definitely saw it light up. Allura and Blue had their hands full helping the still-invisible Green take out runaways fighters.

Yellow started to glow. “Gimme a clear shot, guys!” Hunk yelled. Lance and Keith didn’t need to be told twice before they spun out of the way. In a great blast of bright, sparkling energy, Yellow sprouted a huge, minimalistic, sideways cone thing that looks like a drill without the threads. Whatever it was, energy visibly built up inside it until a beam of pure gold badassery shot from the tip and blew a gigantic, clean hole in the warship’s butt.

“What WAS that?” Came Keith’s astonished voice.

“Yeah, how can a blast that powerful be so controlled?” Pidge demanded.

“You said it yourself: if it doesn’t make sense, then it must be magic.” Hunk said, sounding awed.

Lance said, “You know what, I don’t care what that was because it worked. Keith, Allura, you’re up!”

Keith deftly flew Red into the neat opening Hunk had blown open, Blue right behind them. He and Allura found safe-ish places to land and ejected into the room that was now uninhabitable, then found a door with a redundant airlock to get inside the main ship.

“How are we going to get this open without Pidge to hack it? Cut it open?” Keith summoned his sword.

“Let me try something first.” Allura closed her eyes and placed her hand flat against the door where the locking mechanism must’ve been. About a minute passed, making him antsy. Then the door glowed and clicked open.

“Huh. Neat,” he said. They got inside and their boots thudded to the floor with the sudden artificial gravity.

“Haggar’s magic permeates this entire ship,” Allura explained. “I can feel it around me. I used my quintessence to repel her control of the lock.”

“Can you lead us to where she’s keeping Shiro that way?”

“Possibly. Keith, watch out!” He ducked just in time to miss her glowing whip lash out. It took down three sentries at once, but a lot more were charging at them.

Keith grinned wryly at Allura. “Seems like a fair fight.”

“You take the left, I’ll take the right.”

Keith didn’t know what it said about him that he’d become comfortable in the middle of a melee with opponents that drastically outnumbered him. But he hadn’t been thrashing the gladiator all this time just for fun. He and Allura were in sync with each other as they fought; he cleared her path and followed her lead down the corridors while she focused on sensing the energy around her and taking out opponents from a distance.

They both had a near miss with a group of actual, living soldiers. They were forced back to back and by the time they’d taken everyone out, they were both panting and aching.

Allura finally found where the druid’s brand of manipulated quintessence felt strongest.

It was like Haggar and her druids were waiting for them. They all stood expectantly in the dark, cavernous laboratory. It could also be called a lair, though. There were all kinds of bizarre instruments and machines and tanks and enough of them gave off visible radiation to give him the creeps.

“Paladins,” Haggar’s voice creaked. “Princess. You are only as stubborn as you are foolish.”

“Shut up!” Keith shot towards Haggar with his sword only to get blinded by pain and crash to the ground. If the stinging ache in his chest meant anything, he’d probably cracked a rib.

“Keith!” He saw Allura activate her whip through slightly blurry eyes. He hauled himself back to his feet. “

“I’m disappointed in you. The child of Alfor should have become the greatest alchemist of an age. The power of Oriande is wasted on a closed-minded child like you.

“Dispose of them.” As one, every druid in the room thrust out their hands toward Keith and Allura. Crackling violet magic arced through the air, filled the room, and coalesced on Allura.

Keith wasn’t an expert on magic, but...shouldn’t that have killed her?

Instead, Allura just... absorbed the magic lightning the druids shot at her. For a tense, static moment, her entire body glowed pink with intermittent flashes of bright blue. Then she threw her arms out and felled every last druid at once in a single, blinding pulse. She breathed heavily and her face dripped with sweat.

Only the hooded witch still stood.

“Where is Shiro?” The fury in Allura’s voice was so palpable it burned. Her hair was coming loose and still kind of glowed.

“Long since gone, child.” Haggar smoothly straightened up and lowered her hood.

Keith hadn’t come face to face with the Altean witch often, but he distinctly remembered glowing yellow eyes and purple skin. The woman in front of them now still had crooked red lines down her hollow cheeks, but her complexion was brown; her hair was white; and her eyes had pupils and gold irises.

Allura looked gobsmacked. “ Honerva? ”

“What? The Altean scientist who destroyed the Galra homeworld?”

“The very same,” Allura confirmed. “When the quintessence field corrupted you all those centuries ago - Oriande undid that damage? Why are you doing this?”

With an expression like marble, Honerva solemnly announced, “I am returning to my people.”

“ My people! You are a traitor to Altea!” With blinding speed, Allura attacked her with her whip.

Honerva vanished into a wisp of smoke and immediately reappeared behind Keith. He could only tell by the hot gust against the back of his neck. Something pushed him out of the way and he recovered with a somersault. To his shock, Matt Holt was there with his staff and had apparently surprised the witch with a violent swing at her legs.

Son of a bitch stowed away in my Lion! Keith realized.

Allura took the distraction by sprinting toward the tables, hopefully to find clues about Shiro. “Help him!” she shouted at Keith.

She didn’t need to tell him twice. She didn’t need to tell him at all.

Matt slashed at Honerva like a madman. Gone was the smooth and skilled fighter Keith knew - the man in front of him put all his strength into each haphazard strike with no discernable strategy at all. Honerva blocked each of his attacks almost lazily. She was toying with him, forcing him to retreat even as he did his utmost to kill her, pushing Matt farther and farther away from Keith as they fought.

They were too far away from him. Keith’s sternum and side protested harshly against his running, and it slowed him down enough. He wasn’t going to get there in time.

Allura’s whip came out of nowhere, ensnared Honerva’s throat, and electrocuted her. The witch fell to her hands and knees. Keith sprinted towards them as Matt delivered a blow to her head.

It would have been fatal if she didn’t grab his wrist. In the course of two seconds, Matt fell to his knees, he cried out in pain, and Haggar vanished into smoke.

The chamber flooded with soldiers and sentries.

“Quiznak!”

Matt stood on shaky feet when Keith caught up to him. Together, they started fighting off the robots.

Allura joined the melee shortly. “Why aren’t you with the other rebels?” she demanded.

“I came to save my best friend,” Matt said through gritted teeth.

“Well I couldn’t find anything! I hope it was worth it!” Keith knew it was bad when Allura got pissed like this. Thankfully she was taking it out on the galra.

Matt looked like shit. He was still fighting, but his face had gone gray, his reflexes got more and more sluggish, and sweat poured down his face. Keith kept one eye on him and slashed through as many sentries as he could. He wished Lance were here to take some out from a distance.

Everything came to a head when Matt collapsed. He looked weak. All the color was drained from his skin. Allura deactivated her bayard, grabbed him under the arms and hauled.

Keith forced his eyes on his enemies and defended his friends as Allura dragged Matt to a slightly sheltered alcove to examine him. She felt his pulse, his temperature, his bones. Keith guarded them from incoming sentries. He heard choking then smelled the rancid scent of vomit.

“Your quintessence has been drained and I think you’re bleeding internally. Keith, I need to get him to the Blue Lion so I can heal him.”

“I can’t defeat Haggar without you, Allura!”

“Honerva’s gotten away, and only I have minutes to save his life, so give me a couple of minutes to get him to safety.”

He growled. “Go!”

She picked up Matt’s increasingly limp body into her arms and sprinted away.

Keith was forced to give up. He had no backup, he was probably (definitely) injured, and they’d failed both their objectives for boarding. He retreated back to Red.

The battle outside wasn’t looking good, either. The Blade of Marmora were holding off Honerva’s fleet well enough, but Voltron looked worse for wear. Pidge wasn’t cloaking anymore, Hunk kept getting swarmed by breakaway fighters, and Lance was trying to engage the warship that was now powering up. How the hell Honerva thought she could get through the space-time eddies in a ship that damaged was beyond him, but they couldn’t let her get away.

“Lance, she’s trying to get to the Alteans!”

“Let’s go!” Both Red and Black took off after her.

Something exploded on the warship. Escape vessels expelled from it like vomit. A second explosion, much bigger and probably more magical than the first, slammed into Keith and Lance’s lions, sending them careening into the quantum abyss. The last thing he heard before blacking out was Pidge screaming.

Part 16

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whatarubberchicken · 4 years

Text

The Bodyguard’s Tale -Chapter 3

<<Previous - Ao3 or ff.net - Next>>

Chapter 3

Lance’s next excursion wasn’t any better; he somehow got it into his head that he wanted to try hunting ducat. Whatever that was. Apparently, some guy named Coran told him all about them and where to find them. However, after a full day of tromping through the Altean jungle, he and Keith didn’t find anything. And when a tired, muddy, bedraggled Keith asked Shiro about it later, the man had laughed and suggested snipe hunting instead.

He was fairly certain they were being played. So was Lance.

In retaliation, Lance convinced him to help with a little prank. Somehow, the Altean prince had gotten ahold of a couple-dozen half-feral klanmüirls. Keith, openly shaking his head and secretly snickering for the sheer brilliance of it, had the task of putting a collar on each one that clearly stated that the beast was one of 25. There were only 24 klanmüirls. Then they set them loose in the Grand Hall, just before the High Council was called into session.

Keith had never seen such mayhem.

It was glorious.

Uptight lords ran around, panicking, yelling, and trying to catch the stray animals; women were screaming shrilly as several beasts mistook their shiny jewelry for a snack—Lotor had a huge one chasing him that was sure his hair was something edible—even Shiro’s calmer efforts to corral them was hilarious in its own way.

Keith and Lance were literally unable to stand, they were laughing so hard.

Unfortunately, their fun came to an end when Allura caught them hiding behind some draperies. Keith thought for sure they were doomed, but in exchange for her silence, the princess decided to have a bit of her own fun instead.

The next day, Lance and Keith looked at each other miserably as they were forced to try on dress after dress for the princess’s amusement. (She did not, as a small mercy, make them leave her quarters in the dresses, which Keith was eternally grateful for.)

“Does this one make my butt look big?” Lance asked, looking in the mirror while his sister was off trying to find accessories for them. The apparent reasoning behind this whole fiasco was that she wanted to see how different outfits looked side-by-side.

Why she couldn’t use her own ladies….

“I don’t think you have the hips for it,” a voice by the door laughed before Keith could reply. They both whirled around to see Shiro standing there, snickering. “Or the chest!”

“What are you doing here?!” Keith hissed, attempting to cover himself with another dress. Embarrassing himself in front of his best friend was not in the job description!

“Ah, Shiro! You have those documents I needed signed?” Allura said, handing her brother some jewelry as she crossed the room to the ambassador. Keith narrowed his eyes at her. So, she’d arranged this, the scheming little—

“Right here, princess,” Shiro said cheerfully, handing her some forms. “And I—uh, love your new models.”

Keith growled and Lance freed a hand long enough to give Shiro a rude hand gesture.

“Aww, did Lotor not come with you?” Allura pouted, looking behind the ambassador. Keith gaped at her in horror. His brother? Seeing him like this?! She was EVIL!!

“Unfortunately, Prince Lotor had some pressing business to take care of,” Shiro said, grimacing. Keith snorted. Undoubtedly, his brother simply hadn’t seen how a visit to see his betrothed would benefit him and had brushed off Allura’s invitation. “He swears he’ll make it up to you later.” Shiro glanced at the two boys again, and barely hid his laughter behind his hand.

“Of course, if he’d known what was waiting for him, I’m sure he’d have come,” he added, grinning at Keith.

“Don’t you dare tell him!” Keith hissed, trying to wiggle out of his dress to go threaten Shiro properly.

“And now, Princess, I have some pressing business of my own… That’s a good color on you, Keith!”

“Shiro! Get back here!!” Keith yelled, struggling harder. He ended up stumbling around and crashing into Lance, who yelped when they went down in a pile of limbs.

“Ow, mullet-head!”

“Shut up and get off me!”

“Excuse you! You’re the one on me!” Lance shouted.

“Move your leg!”

“Hey, watch the heel! Watch the heel!!”

“WHY are you wearing heels, Lance?” Keith asked, completely exasperated and still tangled up on the floor in what could be considered a very compromising position.

“Hey, if I’m gonna do this, I’m gonna do it right!” The Altean prince had the nerve to pose.

“Ugh, you idiot!”

“Oh yeah? I’m not the one who—OOF!” Lance groaned. Keith winced. He’d accidently kneed the other boy in the stomach.

“Sorry.”

“You Galra, always so violent!” Lance cried dramatically, throwing a hand over his eyes for effect. “Sister-dear, did you see how he brutalized me?!”

“My poor brother,” Allura gushed, joining in the drama effortlessly. “You must be traumatized! Facial masks for both of you!!”

Lance cheered. Keith suppressed his urge to bang his head on the floor. The royal siblings were two of a kind, and a royal pain in his—

“C’mon, Keith, let’s get you exfoliated!!”

Quiznak.

………..

The next few weeks were more of the same. Lance got into more bar fights (which Keith had to step in and defend him for, even if the prince had a pretty good right hook himself) and attempted to learn how to play some sort of wind instrument (Keith chucked it out the window after the third day and claimed it must be in Lance’s messy room somewhere. Win-win for him; Lance had to clean his room, finally, and Keith was no longer subjected to the sound of a dying cat).

The best times were when Lance decided to hang out with Allura, usually studying spellcasting or playing Monsters and Mana. (Keith decided to forgive her for the dress debacle, since those few hours were the most peace he had these days. Still, he swore Lance cheated at that game, there was no way anyone could roll that many Nat 20s.)

Lance also attempted to learn how to use a sword, which Keith had to help him with. The prince was surprisingly light on his feet, but he was no match for Keith’s strength, even if he was Altean. Still, he was stubborn, and those practice matches were very enjoyable for Keith. Especially the way Lance’s eyes would sparkle every time he learned a new move or managed to land a hit….

NOPE! Nope. That was just the adrenaline talking. Keith loved the adrenaline rush. That was all.

Finally, the king and queen deemed Lance worthy of representing Altea on another world. Keith was apprehensive until he found out the mission wasn’t going to take long; it was just a festival that the locals called Clear Day. Shiro even offered to accompany them and make sure Lance didn’t get into too much trouble.

Keith regretted it the moment they touched down. So many lights and noises and smells—

“It’s a carnival,” Shiro exclaimed softly, his eyes wide. “We used to have them on Earth all the time!”

“Really?” Keith asked, interested in learning more about that part of himself. And honestly, watching Shiro was easier on his eyes than all these flashing lights….

“Hey, where’d Lance go?” Shiro suddenly asked.

Keith spun around, looking for the prince who had just been at his side.

“QUIZNAK!”

They searched for nearly an hour before they found him at the shooting games, entertaining several females with his ability to get them some cheap little stuffed animals.

“Lance!” Keith roared. “You know you’re not supposed to go off on your own!!”

Lance took one look at the rage on his face and, to Keith’s astonishment, he ran. What the quiznak?! Where did he think—?

“Get back here!” he yelled after the wayward prince, only vaguely aware of Shiro laughing behind him as he chased the other boy. Shiro could laugh, but it was going to be Keith’s ass if something happened to the prince!

Lance was darting left and right, trying to lose him in the crowd, but Keith was quicker. He tackled Lance right into a line of people. Keith pulled them both to their feet, and was about to start laying into the Altean when—

“Fine, fine, you can go first,” a bored, nasally voice said. The next thing they knew, they had been strapped into a ride and told to have a “blissfully burrowful time.”

All Keith could do was glare at Lance, which intensified when the animatronics all around them began to sing. Lance looked interested (for all of two tiks) and then he chanced a glance at his bodyguard.

“Just remember, if you kill me, you fail your mission,” he sang, grinning sheepishly.

“I remind myself that every day.”

The ride broke, right when they were in the middle of it. Keith groaned in despair and buried his face in his hands.

It took him less than five minutes to get fed up with the idiotic song and slash his way to freedom, dragging a laughing Lance behind him. The prince promised to pay for damages to the irate carny, but also pointed out that the ride had already been broken. Then Keith chimed in about how it could’ve been a trap to harm Lance’s royal person, blah-de-blah, and the worker quickly let them go with hasty apology for their troubles.

They were never coming back to Clear Day. Keith would beg Lance’s other bodyguards on his knees if he had to.

Now, they couldn’t find Shiro.

Some of the locals said something about a human being in the arm-wrestling tournament, but to get there, they had to pass the shooting games again. And of course, Lance wheedled and whined until Keith finally gave in and stopped to let him play for awhile.

It wasn’t like he was actually going to win anything… those things were totally rigged.

So, when Lance presented him with a stuffed red lion, Keith took it out of sheer disbelief—and ignored his flaming cheeks.

It was just to say sorry for that whole ride debacle. It’s not like it meant anything. Besides, they were both quickly distracted by the fact that Shiro was now the center of a cheering crowd of fans.

#bodyguard AU #vld #voltron #voltronsecretsanta2k19 #keith #lance #shenanigans

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alubanana · 5 years

Text

From Me To You

For @gentronlegendaryfriendships and Gentron Week!

Day 1: Bedsharing/Sleepover I Forehead Kisses

Read it on AO3!

“Keith, hand me the whisk, would you?”

Glancing up from the leaves from the enormous head of lettuce he was trying to tame so he could cut it, Keith glanced at the whisk Hunk had left on the counter next to him. Abandoning his efforts on the lettuce, for now, he picked up the whisk and extended it wordlessly to Hunk. He smiled and took it, flipping it expertly in his hand and stirring the contents of his bowl furiously.

Carefully, Keith eyed the ingredients spread out all over the counter. Flour, sugar, an entire slab of meat gifted to them by the natives of a planet they’d saved ages ago, even an entire bottle of what looked like vinegar sitting idly on the countertop. He frowned, shifting awkwardly on the balls of his feet. When he agreed to help Hunk cook dinner, this was not at all what he was expecting.

“Is all this...really necessary?” he found himself asking.

Hunk whirled around in all of his aproned glory, wielding his whisk like an instrument of war. “Of course! I like to go all out when it comes to dinner.”

“Like...every day?”

Hunk made a cheerful ‘mhm!’ noise and turned back to the bowl. Keith glanced awkwardly at the pot simmering on the stove and made a mental note to help Hunk with dinner more often. He turned back to the purple leafy disaster he’d been trying to cut and lifted the knife and reached around the leaves to press them together as best he could. Carefully, he began to slice through the leaves to create the universe’s largest salad.

For a few peaceful minutes, the only sound was Hunk’s tablet playing some instrumental Altean music he’d gotten into the past few days. He hummed along, pouring the batter into the pan and leaning over to check on the corn bobbing in the hot water. Keith hummed softly, watching absently as his knife came down again.

“Oh, shit-” Keith gasped sharply, jerking his thumb away. He’d accidentally sliced open a thin cut across the pad and he pressed it to his palm to stop the blood he already knew was coming. Hunk glanced at him, forehead creased with concern.

“Did you cut yourself?”

Keith mumbled a response, averting his gaze. Hunk clicked his tongue, reaching out for Keith’s hand.

“Let me see.”

He didn’t jerk it Keith’s hand into his own. Rather, he waited until Keith hesitantly gave it to him to let him see the thin cut across his thumb. Keith found himself a little surprised. If it had been anyone else (except for maybe Shiro) they would have grabbed his hand and fussed over his carelessness. Hunk however...he just lifted Keith’s hand to see it better and gave Keith a small smile.

“It’s thin,” he said. “I’ve got band-aids on hand for situations exactly like this.” he let Keith’s hand go and reached above them for the cabinets above the stove. Keith watched as he pulled out a box of teal Altean band-aids for popped the box open. He fished around for one small enough for Keith’s cut while Keith watched.

“You...cut yourself with the knives?” he asked.

“Oh yeah, all the time,” Hunk said. Proudly, he pulled a band-aid out with a dramatic flourish and turned to Keith with a tender smile. “Doesn’t happen so much now that I’m used to Altean knives, but it happens.” He reached back out for Keith’s hand and he gave it to him with far less hesitation. Humming along to the soft music in the background, Hunk gently wrapped the bandage around Keith’s thumb and applied pressure to make sure it would stick.

“Thanks…” Keith said, flexing his thumb and frowning at the sticky adhesive pulling at his skin.

“One more thing,” Hunk said brightly. Keith had barely turned to face him before Hunk had leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. Keith froze and his fingers reached to brush the spot Hunk had kissed.

“...what?” he said, aghast. Hunk’s smile softened.

“My mom used to do that for me after I got a cut or something,” he said fondly. “Since we’re all like...one giant space family up here, I’d figured I’d keep the tradition alive. Or...was that too much?”

Keith’s lips twitched. He felt a warm feeling blossoming in his chest and he turned to look down at the teal band-aid wrapped around his thumb. He glanced back at Hunk and shook his head.

“It was fine.”

Hunk beamed. “Great. Now give me the knife so I can clean it. I’m going to try and take a crack at this lettuce.” He rolled up his sleeves as he spoke, trying to sound confident but failing to hide the apprehension in his expression when he looked at the enormous leaves.

“I’ll keep an eye on the corn,” Keith said, stepping aside to let Hunk take over. He leaned his hip against the counter, watching as Hunk rinsed off the knife and tried to look threatening as he brandished it and leaned down to tame the leaves into something he could cut. Keith watched as he worked, silently mulling Hunk’s words over in his head.

Family.

Keith hadn’t had one of those in a very long time. Not since his dad had died. Not since his mom had left before he’d even known what she looked like. And while Shiro was basically his brother by bond but not by blood, it was always just the two of them. Now there were so many of them - one huge family up in space together trying to make the most of their lives.

So, while Hunk awkwardly sliced apart the enormous head of lettuce (they would probably have leftovers for weeks after this) Keith let himself smile a true, genuine smile.

“Hey, Hunk?” he spoke.

Hunk let his war on the lettuce pause for just a moment so he could turn his head to see Keith. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

The enormous grin that spread across Hunk’s face spoke more than words ever would.

“You’re welcome, Keith.”

#Voltron #keith #hunk #chocodoesthewriting #vld #gentronweek

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imjustheretoseetheprivateblogs · 5 years

Note

*inserts the whole song of 'For the Dancing and the Dreaming' from How to train your Dragon 2.* Shallura it. Please, I want my babies doing a courting song and dance.

Okay, I’ll do my best, but next time I need a real quote...

Singing, dancing, laughing

The sounds of the Nomcovian people’s celebration filled Shiro’s senses.

Foods that looked and tasted like black pudding, smelled of spices and what might have been capsicums, and almost sizzled on the plates they sat on lined a huge circular table around a raging bonfire in the center of the pavilion.

To these people, fire was sacred, an emanation of their god, a being who provided warmth and food, a beacon of civilizing power, and terrible destruction. In offerings, they threw bouquets of flowers and herbs into it as they danced, giving him thanks for guiding the legendary defender to their world.

All of their instruments were percussion and Shiro had expected their music to be intense, loud thumping noises in concert with one another, but instead the musicians created harmonies with metal and glass. Every application of friction, every strike and shake, creating another note, another bright or ethereal sound that carried the dancers around the bonfire.

Two Nomcovians, a man and a woman, sat on two thrones at the front of the crowd, both of them dressed in pearlescent robes with twisting metallic crowns. Normally, Shiro would have thought them royalty, but according to Coran it was just normal Nomcovian wedding attire.

A scream shook him from his thoughts. The sound turned out only to be Hunk, as he was carried around on a group of Nomcovians’ shoulders.

Shiro smiled. After throwing the yellow lion into a Galra cruiser at the risk of his own life, he certainly deserved to be treated like a hero.

Everyone did.

Voltron had liberated yet another planet from the grip of the Galra. Nomcovia was a planet that had barely discovered the wheel that the empire had been using for target practice for some reason Shiro couldn’t imagine.

Only he could. All too easily.

But once Voltron had touched down, routing the Galra forces had been just another day on the job for its paladins.

When the last Galra cruiser had left the atmosphere, the people had swarmed to them from their cave-like dwellings, cheering and crying in joy.

They’d offered invitations to some kind of event in honor of the heroes who had defeated the Galra.

And to attend a Nomcovian bonfire with a banquet was considered the highest of accolades.

Out of the corner of his eye, Shiro saw Keith being tossed in the air on a blanket by a group of Nomcovians and he thought he heard Lance saying something (no doubt to a Nomcovian female).

He didn’t see Pidge anywhere, but she could be anywhere in the throng of dancers

But Shiro was only really paying attention to one dancer in particular.

Allura looked radiant in the fire light, golds and tangerines illuminating her soft features and highlighting her silver hair as she spun in tandem with the Nomcovians.

The sound of her laugh cut through the din of the party, a sound that reminded him of

He hadn’t thought much of it at first (when a woman puts a cadet in a headlock, what would you say?) But time was definitely trying to make him feel for her.

Someone like Allura could make a man sail on savage seas, through scorching sun and freezing cold, swim them even without fear of drowning.

With each speech she made to a planet that felt too brow beaten, too numb to fight the Galra, her mighty words continued to astound him.

Just for what she helped do for the Nomcovians, she deserved rings of gold, poetry, more than he could give to her in a lifetime.

But Shiro didn’t need mighty words or deeds. A hand to hold would be enough.

As if she’d heard his thoughts (if Alteans were telepathic, it wouldn’t surprise him), Allura danced over to Shiro with all the grace of someone who had practiced Nomcovian dance their whole lives and took his hands in hers.

“Dance with me,” she said, trying to pull him to his feet.

“Sorry,” he said, “I’m a little rusty. I wouldn’t be a good partner.”

If Shiro was optimistic, he would think that Allura was beaming at him.

“Nonsense! I’ll teach you!”

With a final pull, Allura dragged Shiro into the dance and he only barely managed to not step on her feet. But it was worth it to feel her arms around him, to hear her laughing and to see the smile he knew came straight from the bottom of her soul.

A group of Nomcovians, carrying what looked like sparklers surrounded them, spinning and singing, and it was almost like being in a canopy of fireflies with Allura.

It felt right; to be here, joined to Allura at the hands even if he was struggling to keep up with her. With lights falling like snow all around them, Just breathing and happy and so alive. To feel like they were dancing and dreaming at the same time.

Before he could stop himself, words he didn’t know he had the courage to voice slipped out.

“You are so beautiful.”

“You’re on fire!”

Shiro smiled, blushing.

“Oh, thanks.”

“Why are you thanking me?! Your sleeve is on fire!”

Send me a pairing and a quote from a movie and I’ll make a short fanfic about it

#My Writing #Prompts #Shallura #Dancing #Alien Culture #Voltron #VLD #Voltron: Legendary Defender

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fandomsnerd24 · 5 years

Text

bold the facts tag

Thank you for @the-curly-headed for tagging me :D

I’m over 5′5′’// I wear glasses/contacts// I have blonde hair// I prefer loose clothing to tight clothing// I have one or more piercings// I have at least one tattoo// I have blue eyes// I have dyed or highlighted my hair// I have gotten plastic surgery// I have or had braces// I sunburn easily// I have freckles// I paint my nails// I typically wear makeup// I don’t often smile// I am pleased with how I look// I prefer Nike to Adidas// I wear baseball hats backward

Hobbies and talents:

I play a sport// I can play an instrument// I am artistic// I know more than one language// I have won a trophy in some sort of competition// I can cook or bake without a recipe// I know how to swim// I enjoy writing// I can do origami// I prefer movies to TV shows// I can execute a perfect somersault// I enjoy singing// I could survive in the wild on my own// I have read a new book series this year// I enjoy spending time with friends// I travel during school or work breaks// I can do a handstand

Relationships:

I am in a relationship// I have been single for over a year// I have a crush// I have a best friend I have known for ten years// My parents are together// I have dated my best friend// I am adopted// My crush has confessed to me// I have a long-distance relationship// I am an only child// I give advice to my friends// I have made an online friendship// I met up with someone I have met online

Aesthetics:

I have heard the ocean in a conch shell// I have watched the sunrise// I enjoy rainy days// I have slept under the stars// I meditate outside// The sound of chirping calms me// I enjoy the smell of the beach// I know what snow tastes like// I listen to music to fall asleep// I enjoy thunderstorms// I enjoy cloud watching// I have attended a bonfire// I pay close attention to colors// I find mystery in the ocean// I enjoy hiking on nature paths// autumn is my favorite season

Miscellaneous:

I can fall asleep in a moving vehicle// I am the mom friend// I live by a certain quote(s)// I like the smell of sharpies// I am involved in extracurricular activities// I enjoy Mexican food// I can drive a stick-shift// I believe in true love *conditioned upon it not always being a romantic “true love”*// I make up scenarios to fall asleep// I sing in the shower// I wish I lived in a video game// I have a canopy above my bed// I am multiracial// I am a redhead// I own at least three dogs

I’m tagging @altean-time-traveling-volcanoes, @crayonsandteaparties, @velociheroviridi, @gracefully-grayson, @magicyew and anyone else who wants to do this! For those I tagged, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, of course!

#daily oversharing

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chancellormatt · 5 years

Text

Voltron Rewrite Episode Eleven - The Coalition Strikes Back

Prince Lotor walks carefully, as if on eggshells, into the planning room of his father. Zarkon has his back to Lotor, staring at a display showing a holographic sequence of a teleduv opening, and lines of energy coursing out. A readout of numerical calculations are projected alongside.

Lotor waits for his father to speak. Zarkon says nothing. Lotor’s hands clench and unclench, as he continues to wait. Zarkon just keeps staring at projection, watching the numbers change as the calculations continue.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Zarkon speaks.

“You failed.” The voice sounds neither angry nor surprised.

“...yes.” Lotor says, forcing the word out.

Neither says anything for several long moments.

“...your mother took the teleduv to a secondary location for some preliminary tests. You will go to her.”

“...for what purpose?”

“To be out of the way.”

Lotor flinches. “...and...my punishment?”

Zarkon finally turns around to face Lotor.

“There is nothing I think I can do, that is worse than the dishonor you have laid upon yourself. You know what a failure you are. Do I have to hammer in what is already clear to see?”

Lotor’s eyes bore into the floor, tightening his fists so hard the knuckles go white.

“Leave me. Do not return until you have something of value to offer.”

With a jaw clenched so tight the words can barely be heard, Lotor says:

“...yes father.”

With that, he leaves.

***

Pidge gazes intently at a display showing frequency readings. She sits inside a laboratory in the Garrison base, at a computer terminal. She types a few keys on the board and more frequencies appear, overlaying on top of the existing ones. Her expression grows harder.

The door slides open, and Keith walks in.

“Hey, Pidge. You wanted to show me something?”

“Take a look.” She nods to the screen.

Keith walks over, and looks down at the display.

“So uh...you wanna tell me what I’m looking at right now?”

She sighs. “When we first got back to Earth, I had them tune the astro spectrometers to look for quintessence, and other unique energy signatures.”

“And lemme guess: You picked up some?”

“You could say that. I’m getting some crazy readings all over the place. Been using my spare time trying to locate the epicenter, which I finally did. Check it out.”

A map of celestial bodies appears on the display.

“This,” she says, pointing to a highlighted spot, “is the source of these energy readouts. And this,” she points to another spot, “is the Quantum Abyss. Just a couple of lightyears away. I’m betting that’s not a coincidence.”

“Me either.” Keith says, eyes narrowing. “It's got to be Zarkon.”

“So...what do we do?”

“For now, just keep an eye on things. Let me know if anything changes. I’m going to ask the Blades and the Warlords if they know, or can find anything about this.”

“Roger that.” Pidge says, returning the display to the readouts. “Oh and Keith?”

“Yeah?”

“Whatever this is...it's big. These readings...I can’t even begin to describe how scary they are. Whatever Zarkon and the other Dark Paladins are planning...we have to do everything possible to stop it.”

“We will.” Keith says confidently.

“How can you be so sure? We sure got beaten last time.”

“Because we’re the Paladins of Voltron. That’s why.”

Pidge nods, seeming to accept this answer. With that Keith leaves her to her work.

***

Lance walks inside an open hanger, towards Hunk, who’s back is to him. The big man is talking to a group of cadets that surround him. Lance smiles as he approaches, hearing his friend’s words.

“-rookie mistake. I used to make it all the time. Those gyroscopic stabilizers can get a little wonky once you get past three G’s. Talk to your engineer about it, they should be able to adjust the compensators, to make that a little-”

“There he is!” Lance calls out, for the whole hangar to hear. “The man, the myth, the legend: Hunk Garrett!”

Hunk cringes, but the cadets seem all the more excited.

“Don’t you think you’re exaggerating a little bit…?” Hunk says, as Lance walks up to throw an arm over his friend’s shoulders.

“Not even a little! Ya know this guy always talks about how scared he is? Turns out he’s a real heroic one. Totally called it.”

“Come on, I was the last one to even get in the fight.”

“Yep. Real thematic entrance, too. I’m proud of you buddy.”

The Cadets start to clamor, asking questions and swarming them. Hunk, however, cuts them off with a wave of his hand.

“Alright, alright. Cool down guys. We aren’t going anywhere. You all on the other hand, are due for flight drills if I’m not mistaken? I’d get to your fighters before your drill sergeant starts to wonder what’s taking so long.”

The cadets get a wave of panicked looks, and quickly disperse, calling out farewells as they run.

“Amazing.” Lance says shaking his head. “Just hold one of your eyes shut and you really would just be the spitting image of Iverson.”

“Oh stop it.” Hunk says shrugging off Lance. “I was just running their tests on the Yellow Lion, and after seeing Voltron firsthand they wanted to ask me stuff.”

“Uh huh. So in other words, you’ve become their beloved hero-pilot.” Lance sighs exaggeratedly. “Man, how come no one ever notices how heroic I am?”

“Well I’m sure before long they’ll all be singing the praises of ‘Lance the Sharpshooter.”

“Guess we’ll just have to see…” Lance grumbles. A slight quirk of his lips indicates that he is not as downcast as he pretends.

Hunk chuckles.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. Just glad I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”

��Suddenly a wide grin grows on Lance’s face. “Not yet ya aren’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well buddy, I think it's time we both got some well deserved R&R. Whatcha say we sneak out of this place before another alien invasion or something happens, and go hit the town? Yaknow, for old time’s sake.”

“That does sound like it could be fun.” Hunk admits.

“Great! Now let’s just make sure Keith doesn’t-”

Both of their communicators squak to life, with the sound of Keith’s voice.

“All Paladins, gather in the usual meeting room. Follow up on the attack, and discussing where to move from here on. Attendance is non-negotiable.”

They both sigh.

“Well he’s sure got ordering people around down.” Lance says.

***

The five Paladins of Voltron, Shiro, Coran, Matt and Sam Holt, Admiral Sanda, and all the other various leaders of both Coalition and Garrison sides sit in the large meeting room.

Admiral Sand sighs long and hard, before standing up to speak.

“The council has agreed to support the Coalition in their efforts to stop Zarkon and the Galra forces he controls-”

Before she can continue the room erupts into a cheer. She gives an annoyed look, though a slight tug at the corner of her mouth seems to tell a different story.

“-this means that we will supply the Coalition with all our resources.” She goes on once the cheers die down.“Most important of these, is our own military forces which, when necessary, will join the Coalition in deep space, and assist in the fighting.This includes the Atlas mecha, and all the currently battle-worth starfighters we possess. That is all.” Sanda sits back down.

“Oh come on Sanda, it's okay to get excited!” Matt says with a smirk. “This means we can finally officially work together again! I know you’ve missed my sense of humor.”

“With how much time you spent hanging around base, one could be convinced you never left.” Sanda sniffs. The comment however, is lacking it's usual bite. Though reserved, she does seem pleased.

“Thank you, Sanda. Really.” Shiro says. “Delays aside, I know you fought hard for this. We all owe you for this.”

“Pay me back by finishing this war quick. Oh and try not to bang up the Atlas any more than you already have. Speaking of, how are the repairs coming along?”

“Just about finished, actually.” Sam Holt replies. “While the arm came off, the actual damage was relatively minimal. Plus Coran showed us how to implement some Altean technology that expedite the repair work. Should even make upgrades easier, too.”

“Ah yes, modular construction.” Coran says, massaging his mustache.“Very helpful in building the Castle. Interestingly enough a version of the same tech was instrumental in Voltron’s-”

“I’ll leave the details to the engineers.” Sanda cuts in. “As long as it's back to being battle ready. I don’t want us to be caught with our pants down, again.”

Keith clears his throat. All eyes turn on him.

“On the subject of battles...I think we should probably discuss what we’re doing next. Moving forward with the war, I mean.”

“I’m all ears. You’re in command here now.” Sanda says simply.

Keith looks taken aback by that, but recovers quickly.

“Right. So, I’ve been thinking lately that we’ve been fighting a little too defensively. So far we’ve just waited for our opponents to show up first, then deal with the aftermath. But we’ll never win like that. I think it's time we attacked, and put them on the defensive.”

“A good decision.” Sanda nods approvingly. “But my question would be, where? As far as I understood it, you were not aware of your...our, enemy’s precise whereabouts.”

“That’s not...exactly true.” Keith says carefully. “We know that at the very least they’ve taken over the Altean Colony in the Quantum Abyss. The Blades have confirmed as much. They also verified that a lot of enemy galra activity is centering around there, so it's a safe bet that they’re using the colony, or a place very nearby as their headquarters.”

“So we attack this ‘Quantum Abyss,’ then? Cut the head off the snake, as it were?” Sanda asks.

“Tempting as that is, we don’t really have enough info to make that kind of attack, yet. We have no idea what kind of defenses they have, how they have their forces situated, or any of that. The Blades, unfortunately, haven’t been able to get close enough to get a read on the place.”

“Do you have an alternative suggestion then?”

Keith nods. “Over the past few days, Pidge has been monitoring some suspicious energy readings coming from an area not far from the Abyss. Just recently I was informed by the Blades that there is, in fact, a large compound there, with a significant amount of security guarding it. We think they might be testing some kind of new weapon.”

“Whatever this thing is, it’s a big deal. I can tell that from the readings alone. We’ve got to figure out what they’re doing there, and stop it if we can.” Pidge explains.

“I assume you have a plan?” Sanda asks.

“So far, the idea is we launch a good portion of our forces to attack this thing. We’ll have a ton of ships, Atlas, and a few Lions, but not Voltron. The reason for this, is because the attack is just a distraction. While our forces are attacking outside, one of the Paladins is going to sneak in, hack their computer and take every scrap of data on what’s going on in there, then evac. Then we’ll pull out, before reinforcements can arrive.”

“Wait a minute.” Lance cuts in. “Hack in? That means the one going in will be…”

“Me.” Pidge says, as if it were obvious. “I’ve got the computer skills, plus Green already has cloaking abilities, so getting in should be easy. I’m going to be the one sneaking in.”

“...alone?” Lance asks, looking confused.

“Well yeah, that’s the idea. We don’t exactly want them to find out the real reason we’re there.”

“Why don’t we send in some of those Marmoran Blade guys, too? They’re all space ninja-ey.”

Pidge sighs. “The more people we send in the more likely it is we’ll get noticed. As good as the Blades are, adding more people will just make sneaking harder. Besides, they”

“If...you say so.” Lance says, uncertainly.

We can discuss the finer details later.” Keith cuts in. “But, right now this seems to be the right move. We’ll deal a blow to our enemy, and gain some much needed intel, in one move. Any more questions?”

There are none.

“Alright, then. Let’s get ready for battle everyone.”

***

Prince Lotor, inside the Dark Red Lion, flies towards a massive space station. It is built in a gigantic, flat, ring shape. At the center of the ring, is the teleduv, with six robeasts hovering over it.

Lotor pulls into the station’s hangar bay, and lands his Lion. He steps outside, and is met by Raimon, standing there, in his usual maroon armor.

“Raimon.” Lotor nods.

The other man nods back, ever so slightly.

“I suppose this is where Zarkon is sending all those he wishes to punish. Though, I should hope I never do something to earn as much ire from him as you.”

Raimon does not reply.

Lotor sighs. “Ever the quiet one, my friend. Very well, take me to my mother.”

“Yes sir.”

***

Lotor and Raimon step inside a room, where the far wall is one long viewport. The viewport is built into the inside of the station’s ring, giving it a clear view of the teleduv and the robeasts hovering over it. Honvera stands in front of the port, looking out, unmoving.

“Mother.” Lotor greets.

“Son.” She replies. “How did it go with your father?”

“He didn’t throw anything at me, so I suppose that’s something. Just told me to get out of his way, and stay like that. Almost makes me more worried, that he didn’t do something worse.”

Honvera pauses before replying. “...I see. Well that aside, your timing is impeccable. Come, we are about to start the next test.”

Lotor walks over to stand next to his mother. “How goes your mad plan to open the quintessence field with the teleduv?”

“So far the readings have been promising. By using the robeasts, and by extension, the altean pilots, we can more easily control the rate of quintessence draw.”

Violet lighting begins to crackle along the teleduv’s surface, then begins to arc out to connect with the robeasts.

“...does it hurt the pilots?” Lotor asks after a moment.

“Yes. I suppose it does.” Honvera says unconcerned. “I believe it only takes a few hours to recover, however. No one’s died yet, so it shouldn’t be a resource concern.”

Lotor winces, but his mother doesn’t seem to notice. The crackling grows more intense. A glyph appears at the center of the teleduv.

“...what is the purpose of today’s test?” He eventually asks.

“I’m trying to solve a rather interesting conundrum.”

“Interesting how?”

“After the first few tests, the outputs suddenly changed. It appears as though there is some kind of block in the quintessence field. Like a large stone obstructing a stream. Quintessence still pours out, but not nearly as much as we should be getting.”

“What could be causing that?”

“My best hypothesis, is that there is something physical stuck in the quintessence field, and due to the nature of reality, it is trying to slip out every time we open the teleduv.”

“Something physical…” Lotor muses. “...could they have tried to make another-”

“Mistress! Something is coming through!” A voice crackles over comms.

Honvera narrows her eyes. “Expand the portal, and run stabilization. I don’t want it-”

There is an explosion of violet light, sending several of the robeasts flying. The violet lightning grows more erratic, striking out at the station itself, causing the whole facility to shudder.

“Shut it down!” Lotor calls out.

“It does not appear to be responding.” Honvera replies, fingers flying across a holographic keypad.

The crackling grows more intense. Lotor grabs his mother’s arm and makes as if to run for it.

Then, all at once, the energy crackles to nothing, an all is dark. Honvera tests the comms.

“Report.” She says.

“Damage was minimal, mistress. Just a power surge from all the quintessence. We’ll have things back up and running soon.”

“The pilots?” Lotor asks.

“Two dead. Rest are in critical condition. Reeling them in now.” The operator replies.

Lotor’s eye twitches at that.

“Prioritize getting me a visual.” Honvera says. “I want to see what we just dragged into the physical universe.”

After a few moments, lights from the station come on, illuminating the thing in the center of the teleduv.

A mecha of dark armor, with a long segmented tail, hangs limply in space.

“What…” Lotor says carefully. “...is that?”

***

Lance runs through a crowd of Coalition and Garrison personnel. They are standing in a crowd around Keith and the other Paladins.

“...the Atlas is going to be flanked by Garrison fighters. Now remember, as good as you guys think you are, you’re still at a technological disadvantage, so don’t take unnecessary risks…”

“Sure cutting it close huh?” Hunk whispers.

“Just psyching myself up, before the battle, as usual.”

Hunk gives him an odd look.

“What? Do you not do that?”

“I usually just pretend we aren’t actually fighting until the last minute. That way I don’t have time to think about how terrifying it really is.” Hunk shrugs.

“...Meanwhile our Galran allies will attack from another angle. Finally us Paladins in the Lions will attack from a third angle. This should convince them we really mean business. Meanwhile Pidge will be commencing her operation. ONce this begins, Lance and Hunk will board the ship as well, but in less covert fashion...”

“He means awesomely.” Lance whispers.

“I think he means make a bunch of noise.” Hunk corrects.

“This, hopefully, will keep them for looking for other intruders, by giving them a false lead. After that, it's just a matter of waiting for Pidge to get the data…”

Lance shoots a look over at Pidge, but she doesn’t seem to notice.

“...destroy as much as you can on the way out. And, I’ll say this again, but no unnecessary risks. The more people we lose today, the fewer we have to fight Zarkon tomorrow. That’s all. To your posts.”

The group disperses, to head for their respective ships. Lance however, instead of heading to his own Lion, walks over to Pidge.

“So, going in there all commando style, gonna steal the glory from the rest of us, eh?

“Glory’s got nothing to do with it. It's just the logical move.” Pidge shrugs.

“Riiight.” He smirks. “I think you just decided video games aren’t enough you gotta beat me at being a hero, right?”

“Oh sure, we’re all just trying to beat you Lance, but you’re just too hard to one up. Really we all feel inadequate with you around.” She rolls her eyes exaggeratedly.

Lance chuckles. “Glad someone recognizes me…” his expression suddenly get serious. “But uh...be careful.”

“Where’s this coming from?”

“It's just...these guys are dangerous. Really dangerous.” He glances down at his hand, as if expecting it to star shaking. “ I wouldn’t want…” He shakes his head, and his smile reappears “...I wouldn’t want to have to come rescue you. It’d be really embarrassing for you.”

Pidge snorts. “Yeah, sure.” She moves to enter her Lion, then hesitates. “I’ll...try to look out.”

Lance nods. “Good luck, then.”

Then, he turns around, and heads over to his own Lion. Pidge watches him go. After a moment she shakes her head, and steps inside the Green Lion.

***

Prince Lotor watches, as the strange mecha is laid down inside a hanger on the station. Workers using laser-torches make vain attempts at opening the hull.

“Where do you think it came from?” Lotor asks.

“I do not know.” Raimon replies.

“Best guess then.”

“I have no guesses.”

Lotor narrows his eyes at the other Paladin. “My father really did a number on you didn’t he?”

Raimon remains silent. Lotor sighs.

“Wherever it came from, hopefully what's left of the pilot or onboard computer will tell us more.”

“What is that?” A voice suddenly says.

Lotor and Raimon turn to see Sendak approaching.

“Sendak.” Lotor smiles. “What brings you around here?”

“Routine inspection of the contingent I left here. I heard something of note had been found but…” He gazes up at the mecha. “...this is something.”

“It is, isn’t it.” Lotor muses. “I must say I like the color choice…”

“Hold a tick.” Sendak says, as his communicator beings pinging. “This is Sendak, report.”

“Sir! Enemy activity detected!”

Lotor perks up, with interest.

“Numerous enemy ships on a course towards our location.” The office goes on.“It seems they are approaching the compound in force. Lions have been spotted but no Voltron as of yet.

Sednak furrows his brow. “ETA?”

“Just under a varga.”

“Understood. Launch defenses, and prepare for assault.”

“I will be in my Lion. I suggest you do the same. Perhaps a good performance here could...improve your situation.” Sendak says carefully.

Lotor hesitates. “...no. Don’t get in your Lion.

Sendak quirks his head looking confused. “...forgive me, Prince Lotor, but you are not currently in command here.”

“Fine. Take it as a suggestion, then. I don’t think we should go out. At least not yet. If we wait to show ourselves, we’ll get a better hand on what their goal here is. More than that, we’ll be able to upset their rhythm. They launched a surprise attack on this station. Seems only fitting we should return the favor.”

Sendak stares at Lotor for several long moments, before finally nodding. “Your words are wise, Prince. Let us try this plan…”

***

The forces of the Voltron Coalition open fire on the ring-shaped space station. Defense turrets and galra cruisers return fire. Swarms of fighters on both sides pour over the battlefield. Four of the Lions of Voltron tear through the battle. Energy-fire from all sides turns the whole scene into a lightshow.

Pidge ignores all this, engaging her Lion’s cloaking ability and disappearing from sight. She guides Green in a careful trajectory, weaving around and out of the way of all the other ships, friendly or enemy.

She makes it all the way to the station’s surface without incident, touching down on the dark metal.

“On the surface, gonna see about getting inside, now.” She reports.

“Roger that. Lance, Hunk, time to move.” Keith orders

“You got it!” Lance yells over the comms. “Gonna hit these guys so hard they crawl back to Zarkon and tell ‘em stories of ‘Lance, the Greatest Paladin that ever lived!’”

Pidge smiles and shakes her head.

The Red and Yellow Lions tear their way through the battlefield, aiming for a hangar bay that fighters are streaming out of.

Pidge picks her way long the surface of the station, still unnoticed. She comes upon a hatch built into the top of the station.

“Found the maintenance hatch.” She reports, inserting a wire from her wrist into a side-panel. “Just making sure they don’t notice me entering…” The hatch pops open. Pidge slips inside, and the hatch closes after, shrouding her in darkness. There is a hiss as the compartment fills with air. “...I’m in.”

***

Lance and Hunk glide their Lions inside the hangar bay, mouth beams blasting all the way. Dozens of enemy fighters are destroyed, and galra sentries go flying.

After a few more rounds of shooting, they both land.

Lance dashes out of his Lion, rifle at the ready. “We just made our entrance. And with a lot of style, too.”

“Good work, now go make some noise.” Keith says.

Lance and Hunk share a look and nod. Hunk hefts his bayard cannon, and opens fire on a door at the end of the room. After a few shots, it crumples, and falls to the floor. They dash through, to find a squad of sentries running up to meet them.

“Well buddy guess it’s just you and me against the world.” Lance says, taking aim.

“More like against the universe.” Hunk corrects.

“I guess so. Thinking about running away, yet?”

Hunk blasts apart a pair of sentries before they can get shots off. “Not a chance.”

“I thought so.” Lance smiles.

***

Pidge sneaks down a long corridor. She stops just before an intersection of hallways. Across the gap, on the next wall over there is an access panel. She starts to move across, glancing around the corner, before jumping back into cover.

A pair of sentries walk down a parallel hallway. She waits several moments before peeking around the corner again. Nothing. She runs across and plugs into the panel. She types on a holographic pad for several moments before a light turns green, and her wrist projects a virtual image of the station’s inner layout. She zooms in on one location.

“Central servers. Got ya.” Pidge smirks, unplugging from the panel.

She resumes her creeping down the hallway.

***

Lotor watches the battle being waged outside. The Black and Blue Lions still tear their way through fighters and cruisers. On the other side, Atlas is wreaking havok on the station’s defenses. Yet another feed shows Hunk and Lance shooting their way through the inside of the station.

“Tell my mother and Raimon to fly out and engage the Lions outside.” Lotor says. “I assume you should be able to handle those two making a mess inside?”

“Do not insult me Lotor.” Sendak scoffs. “But even still, where will you be?”

“I’m going to go confirm a hunch.” Lotor says, walking out of the command room. “If I’m wrong it's galran ale on me for you and all the men.”

“Very well, sir.” Sendak says a slight smile touching his lips. “Happy hunting.”

“And you.”

***

Keith and Allura fly in a tight pair, keeping the fighters off each other, and blasting lines through the enemy fighters.

“Two more on your six!” Keith warns.

Allura fires the Blue Lion’s tail laser, taking out one. Keith finishes off the other.

“Thanks!”

“Don’t thank me just yet. We got trouble.”

Sure enough, the Dark Blue and Green Lions fly out from the station, opening fire. Keith and Allura dive into evasive maneuvers, narrowly dodging the blasts.

“Let me take the Blue one. We have unfinished business.” Allura says narrowing her eyes.

“Careful.” He warns, letting out a blast that is aimed at the Green Lion, but is evaded. “These guys are no joke.”

“I’m well aware.” Allura says, dodging a blast. She fires her sonic cannon, to stun the other Lion. She follows up with a mouth beam, but despite the previous blast, her opponent is still able to move enough to make the shot only grazing.

The other Lion then replies, by firing with his own mouth blast, forcing Allura to dodge into his second shot from his tail.

Allura shakes off the hit, and punches her Lion back into motion, facing off against the Dark Blue Lion.

***

Pidge creeps up to a corner, around which is a short hallway, ending in a door guarded by two sentries. She notes these on her map. Biting her lip, she dismisses the map, and pulls out her bayard. She takes a deep breath, then dashes around the corner.

The sentries notice immediately, raising their weapons to fire. Pidge is faster. She fires her bayard, it's blade taking the first in the chest. She reels in the line at the same time, dragging herself and the sentry towards each other. An energy shot from the other one flies over her head, narrowly missing. Pidge kicks off the first sentry, leaving it a broken mess on the floor, and freeing her bayard to stab at the second. It's weapon cleaves in two. The sentinel tries for a punch at Pidge’s head, but she slips under it and drives her bayard’s blade upwards. The sentinel’s head shears off, and it collapses.

Pidge admires her handywork, giving a self satisfied smile. Hacking through the door takes only a moment, and she steps into the room beyond.

Long columns, from floor to ceiling, with blinking lights fill the room. The central and thickest columb is the one Pidge moves for. She immediately sets to work on the terminal built into the side of it.

“Guys, I’m in the server room now. Should only be a few minutes now.” She says, fingers typing quickly.

“G-” there is the sound of an explosion over the comms. “Good work!” Keith manages to get out. “Just make it quick, these guys are putting up a fight!”

“Will do.” Pidge pulls a drive out from inside her armor, and inserts it into the server. “Gonna copy everything I can down. Until then…” She opens one of the files on the terminal display. “...let’s see if we can’t take a peek as what you guys have been up to…”

Pidge opens another file, scanning it before closing it and opening another. She does this for several minutes, before finding one file that is different. When she opens this one, her eyes immediately widen with shock. She nearly falls as she stumbles back from surprise.

Sincline. Lying in a hanger, held in the very same station she stands inside.

“I take it that you recognize that machine.” A voice says from behind.

Pidge whirls around, throwing up her bayard.

Standing barely two dozen feet away, is Prince Lotor.

“When did you…?” Pidge says with confusion.

“Oh, I was here from the start. Just, waiting for you to show up.” Lotor explains causally. “To be honest, my first thought was that you’d go after the power. But, that’d be too well guarded, with too man redundancies. After I thought about it for a moment, I knew that you’d have to actually be here for information.”

Pidge’s eyes flicker to the drive, still slotted into the server.

“Tell me little one. That mecha there, do you know where it’s from? I’m betting you do. If you tell me outright I promise to make sure my mother doesn’t torture you too badly. I might even let you live after that, though perhaps that would not be much of a mercy. My mother does do nasty work when it suits her-”

Pidge dives, snatching the drive free and rolling across the floor. Lotor summons his bayard, cracking against the spot she just vacated. The energy whip slashes a glowing tear in the column, having missed Pidge by inches. Lotor cracks the whip again, and Pidge only barely dives behind another column in time.

“Prepare to disengage!”She yells over the comms. “I was discovered, evacing with as much data as I could get!” Then, as an afterthought, she adds. “Keith, Allura, blow a hole in the hangar on the third quadrant, and see what’s inside. You’ll understand when you see.”

“Roger that.” Keith replies.

“Wait, discovered?” Lance asks. “You need help evacing?”

“Negative! Evac with Hunk as planned!” Pidge is forced to dive again, as Lotor’s whip slices the column she was hiding behind in half.

She makes for the door, sprinting as fast as she can. Lotor’s whip slashes across the floor in front of her, cutting off her exit. She spins, bringing her bayard up and firing at Lotor. He smiles, shifting his bayard into it’s curved sword form, and knocks the green blade aside. Then he launches himself at Pidge, blade swinging. She tries to dodge, but the blade connects.

Pidge cries out as her helmet is knocked from her head, and she tumbles across the floor.

“What was that? Pidge? Pidge!” A suppressed voice says from her helmet lying several feet away.

Pidge looks up, fear in her eyes, as the towering Lotor approaches.

“...you realize, of course, that I cannot let you leave with that data.” He explains, twirling his sword experimentally. “Not that I was ever going to let you leave anyway…”

***

“Pidge? Pidge!” Lance repeats over the comms. “Pick up, quiznak it!”

No response. He shoots Hunk a worried look. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but is cut off when a door ahead of them is blown out of the wall. Sendak steps through, staring them down. Hunk and Lance raise their weapons, but no one yet fires yet.

“At last,” Sendak says. “I get to test myself against the Paladins of this realm. It is one things to fight in Lions, or Voltron itself. But there’s nothing quite like beating a man with your hands.” Sendak clenches his large robot hand into a fist, as if for emphasis.

“We should evac.” Hunk says.

Lance nods slowly. His gaze shifts away from Sendak, past him, deeper into the station’s bowles. Hunk notices this. He takes a breath, and turns back to Sendak.

“Go.”

“What?” Lance asks with confusion.

“I’ll keep this guy busy. Go find Pidge. Make sure she’s all right. And if she’s not, get her out of here in once piece.”

Lance hesitates only a moment before nodding. “...okay.”

Sendak laughs. “That assumes I will let you do such a thing.”

“Go!” Hunk repeats,

Lance does, dashing down the hall, towards the doorway Sendak blocks. Sendak throws out his fist, hurling the metal hand right for Lance. It is blasted off course by a shot from Hunk’s cannon. Hunk fires the next shot at Sendak himself. Sendak activates his bayard in shield mode, blocking Hunk’s blasts. Lance dashes past Sendak, not even giving the galra a second glance.

Sendak turns to throw his arm at Lance’s back. His shot his thrown off balance when something slams into his shield, pushing him back. Sendak looks up to see Hunk, standing there with a large hammer having replaced his cannon.

“I’m not going to let you stop my friend.” Hunk says, hefting the hammer.

“Interesting…” Sendak says, pacing back and forth. “...and do you really think you’re strong enough? Can you can defeat me with what pitiful power you have? You’d be better off running. At least you’d live a little longer.”

Hunk sighes. “You know, not so long ago, I might’ve taken you up on that. But here’s the thing: I realized that bad guys like you don’t just go away. Someone’s gotta step in your way. Someone’s got to stop you. And today, that’s me. No one else is gonna do it, so I’ll have to. To answer your question, I don’t know if I’m strong enough. Let’s find out.” Hunk raises the hammer to his shoulder.

Sendak grins hungrily. “Yes...show me your strength…” He turns his bayard into an axe. The two Paladins of the Yellow Lions charge each other.

***

Lance dashes for a group of galra guards. He shoots the first two sentinels down before they can even react. His third shot misses, but the following one lands, taking another sentinel in the head. The fourth and final guard’s shot glances off Lance’s energy shield, as he crashes into the guard. They tumble and Lance comes up on top. He shifts his bayard into a sword, and holds it to the guard’s neck.

“Oh, a living one, not just a bot. Good.” Lance says, noticing the flesh of the guard’s mouth and chin from the gap in the helmet’s chin. He presses his sword against its throat, making the guard swallow in fear.

In a very cold voice Lance says: “Tell me where the server room is, and you’ll get to keep your head where it is.”

***

Keith and Allura spins their Lions around, avoiding fire from the enemy Lions, while letting out blasts of their own. They try disengaging from the fight, but the Dark Lions give them no opportunity to escape.

“Dangit, we can’t shake these guys!” Keith calls out.

“What about that part of the station Pidge told us to find?” Allura asks.

Keith looks out at the enemy Lions, as if deciding what to do. He moves to intercept the Dark Blue Lion, which is gunning for Allura. The Dark Green Lion fires a crackling Violet shot from its mouth to stop Keith. He evades easily, but oddly the bolt of energy, once past him, loops back around to strike Keith’s Lion in the back.

Meanwhile, Allura fires three quick shots in succession, all of which are deftly avoided by her enemy. The Dark Blue LIon blasts Allura, sending her flying back.

The two Dark Lions are moving in, about to strike on their weakened foes. Before they get a chance, the Atlas flies in blasting both sending them tumbling backwards.

“Need a hand?” Shiro’s voice asks.

“Sure can!” Keith replies. “Just hold them as long as you can.”

“Roger that.” Shiro says raising both of the Atlas’ fists.

He flies up to meet the now charging Dark Lions, while Keith and Allura slip away, to further down the station.

***

Pidge dodges out of the way of Prince Lotor’s latest attack. He chases after her, wicked sword in hand, an even wicked her smile on his face. It is all Pidge can do to avoid getting her head taken off. Her armor already features many scores, where the blade has grazed her. Panic is in her eyes.

She keeps glancing back at the doorway, searching for a path to escape. She makes as if to duck around to the side of Lotor, then jumps back to dash around the other side.

Lotor sees through this, and puts a kick into Pidge’s gut that throws her halfway across the room. He back slams into the side of a server column. Pidge seethes with pain. Despite this, she manages to push herself up, and takes aim with her bayard. She fires at the open doorway, the green tethered blade sailing for freedom.

Lotor knocks the blade off course with his sword, then with his free hand grabs hold of the tether, and yanks hard. Pidge is dragged across the floor, sliding to a stop just in front of Lotor. He smiles down at her.

Pidge tries to scramble back up to her feet. Lotor slams a foot down into her chest, holding her there. The blow makes her cough and gasp for air.

“Finally.” Lotor sighs. “You Paladins of this reality are so slippery. Just when we think we’ve got a hold on you, you manage to worm yourselves away. Pathetic.”

While he is talking Pidge tries to drive the tip of her bayard into Lotor’s leg. Before she can he slams his other foot down onto her arm, pinning it.

“Do you know how much trouble you lot have cause me?” He sneers. “How many of my atleans I sacrificed, by sending them on futile attacks? How much of my father’s ire I earned with the failure at your hands? It's worse that you aren’t even very competent. You;re just children, playing at an adult’s game. We should have finished you off when we had the chance.”

“These...these children are gonna kick your ass!” Pidge glares up with defiance.

“I don’t think so.” Lotor says, lifting his sword.

He drives the blade down into Pidge’s shoulder. She screams. Blood starts to pool where the blade enters her suit. Pidge tries to squirm, but Lotor presses his foot down harder on her chest, making her gag. He leans down, so their faces are only about a foot away.

“You shouldn’t have come here alone. Maybe then you’d have stood a chance. Probably not, though. But to your credit, at least the only screams you’ll hear, when my mother questions you, will be your own.”

Pidge, with tears in her eyes, looks up with absolute terror at Lotor.

Suddenly, there is the sound of an energy rifle being fired.

Lotor leaps back, pulling his sword free as he does. A bolt of blue energy blasts into the column, where Lotor’s head had been just a moment prior.

“Don’t. You. Touch. HER!”

Lance stands in the doorway, rifle held in his grip, fury in his eyes.

“...Lance.” Pidge says with shock. She winces throwing a hand over the bloody wound on her shoulder. “L-Lance get out of here! He’ll kill you!”

Lotor smiles. “Your friend knows what she’s talking about. Go on then. Abandon her. Leave her to-”

Lance fires again, aiming for the Prince’s skull. Lotor blocks the shot with the edge of his sword. “...I was really hoping you’d do that.”

Lotor charges. Lance fires two more shots, both blocked by Lotor’s blade. Cursing, Lance lowers his rifle, and shifts it into a sword. Then, letting out a battle-cry, he meets Lotor’s charge.

Blades clash, throwing up sparks in their wake. Lance pushes the offense, throwing rage-fueled blow after rage-fueled blow. Lotor blocks, deflects and dodges each of the strikes. Lance continues to hammer down on Lotor, but the Prince moves like water, with none of the blows coming close to hitting.

“You really don’t know how to use that thing do you?” Lotor asks, amusement written on his face.

“Shut up!” Lance barks, swinging to take Lotor’s head off, but meeting only air.

Lotor deflect’s Lance’s next strike, an overextended thrust, and slams a fist into the boy’s ribs in reply. Lotor then steps forward, and lands a slice on Lance’s wrist. Lance retreats back, clutching his arm. He looks down to see his bracelet, the one Pidge made, in two broken pieces on the floor. He looks back up at Lotor, not masking the utter rage in his gaze, and raises his sword again,

“Lance stop!” Pidge cries out, struggling to sit up. “You can’t beat him! He’s been fighting with that sword longer than we’ve been alive!”

“You think I don’t know that!?” He retorts. “But like hell I’m going to use that as an excuse to leave you!”

Pidge can only stare, unable to muster a reply.

Growling, Lance charges at Lotor again. This time, the Prince does no playing around. Every strike Lance throws Lotor counters with one of his own. Lance thrust forward. Lotor parries, and lands a hit on his Lance’s arm. Lance swings overhead. Lotor blocks, and slams a foot into Lance’s chest. Lance tries a wild trio of blows, Lotor deflects each of them, before slicing into Lance’s side. Lance steps back, wincing from the shallow, but painful wounds.

Lotor pounces, unleashing an onslaught of sword strikes at Lance’s guard. Lance is barely able to defend, only partially blocking most of the strikes, and earning multiple scores along his armor, and some biting into the skin below. Lance is forced to retreat backwards, as Lotor’s flurry does not let up.

“Is this really all you can do!?” Lotor demands, sharp teeth revealed in a grin. “Is this all that this reality’s Paladins can offer!?”

Lotor smashes Lance’s sword to the side, and drives his own blade into Lance’s leg. Lance cries out, stumbling back into a column. He brings his sword back up, in a weak guard. Lotor chuckles and shakes his head. The Prince raises his sword and motions for Lance to come forward.

“Come on. Face your end like a man. I only need one of you.”

Narrowing his eyes Lance moves forward. He nearly stumbles, from the leg wound, as he strikes out.

“Pathetic.” Lotor knocks the blow aside.

Gritting his teeth, Lance strikes again.

“Weak.” Lotor uses a lazy backhand to fling Lance’s strike off course.

Yelling, Lance launches himself forward, for one more swing.

Lotor moves to sidestep the blow. “Honestly, you really are-”

Pidge fires her bayard along the floor, tether blocking Lotor’s feet.

Lotor stumbles, and for a moment his guard opens. Lance’s sword swings forward, slicing across one of Lotor’s eyes.

The Prince howls with back, stumbling back. He falls to his back, clutching his wounded eye, fury filling the other.

“Let’s go!” Pidge yells, running over to Lance. He stumbles, but she supports him as they dash for the exit.

Lotor lashes out, shifting his sword to a whip, but he just misses them, as they slip out the door.

“We’ve...gotta get out of here…” Lance says, wincing as he forced to run on his bad leg.

“This way!” Pidge say guiding them down a side hallway. She leads them to a large panel on the lower half of the wall. “Blast it.”

Lance complies, raising his bayard, shifting it to a rifle and firing. It blows apart the panel, showing a small vent beyond.

“Service tunnel. Short cut.” She explains in a tired voice. Lance nods weakly.

Clutching to each other, they leap down.

***

Keith and Allura blow apart the blast door holding the hanger close. They guide their Lions inside.

“Now what could be so important that...oh.” Keith says, seeing what lies in the hangar.

“It...it can’t be…” Allura gasps.

Sincline sits in the hangar. Galra workers scatter at the presence of the Lions, leaving the mecha behind.

“Lotor. Our Lotor. They...they freed him. Why? How?” Allura asks.

“Dunno, and at the moment, don’t care. Come on.” Keith flies his Lion up to Sincline.

“What are you doing?"

“Taking him with us. Friend or foe, we can’t let Zarkon use Lotor for whatever he’s got planned. Get the other arm.” Keith says, locking his Lion’s mouth around one of the mecha’s arms.

Allura hesitates for a long moment, staring at the Dark metal of Lotor’s mecha. “...you’re right.” She finally says. “We can’t leave him.”

She moves her Lion over to grab onto Sincline’s other arm, and together they haul the mecha out of the hangar.

***

Lance and Pidge move down the hallway, each keeping the other from stumbling and falling.

“...sorry about that bracelet you made for my hand. I broke it.” Lance laughs hollowly.

“I don’t care about that idiot!” Pidge scolds. “You almost just got yourself killed! What’d you do that for!?”

“You’re one to talk.” He scoffs. “And here I thought you said you’d be perfectly fine by yourself.”

“I’m serious!” She elbows him in the ribs. Both of them wince. “Sorry.” She apologizes.

“It's fine. What’s a little more pain, on top of the rest?”

Pidge gets a sick look. “...I mean it, though. Why did do that. Come rescue me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“That’s not an answer. We had the mission. I told you guys you should all get out. But then, not only did you come after me, but you tried to fight Lotor! With a sword! How insane do you have to be to do that!?”

“Oh come on, Pidge. As if I’d leave another Paladin behind.”

“And that’s just it?” Pidge scoffs. “You’d be and idiot and try to save any one of us in that situation? It’d be the exact same, and you’d do the same dumb thing?”

Lance seems to think about it. Pidge studies him as he ponders.

“...no.” He says finally. “I mean, yeah I’d still try to save them if it were Hunk or Allura or Keith. That’s just the kind of guy I am. But, no, it wouldn’t be the same.”

“Wh...what do you mean?”

“I mean, that when I saw you sitting there, blood on your armor, Lotor standing over you, I lost it. I just...I couldn’t stand the idea that I’d lose you.”

Pidge looks up, eyes widening.

He goes on:“In that moment, no one, not Lotor, not an army of galra soldiers, not even Zarkon himself wouldn’t have stopped me from trying to save you. You are the one person I can’t lose no matter what.” He looks down at her, as if having realized something for the first time.

For a moment, they just stand there staring at each other. Then, they both blush and avert their gazes. Pidge gaze flickers back to Lance, studying him one more time. She sighs.

“...dang you Matt.”

“Huh?” Lance asks.

“Nothing.” Pidge shakes her head. “I just...know something, now.”

***

Several minutes later, Lance and Pidge shamble past the scene of Hunk and Sendak’s fight. The two combatants slam powerful blows against each other, both looking beaten and weary. Despite this, Sendak is smiling.

“So you do have power! And here I thought there were no worth adversaries in this reality!”

“Well...sorry to cut things short then…” Hunk backs away to his retreating friends.

“It's not over yet!” Sendak sneers. He pulls back his fist to strike, and throws it towards Hunk, and the other retreating Paladins.

Hunk stands directly in front of it, and shifts his bayard into a shield. The fist bounces off. Sendak doesn’t even look mad, as Hunk slams the door shut and destroys the panel

“What happened to you guys!?” Hunk asks as the run.

“Lotor.” Pidge winces. “He was waiting.”

“I…” Lance cringes as he steps too hard with his bad leg. “...had to come in and save the say, as usual.”

Hunk eyes them warily but doesn’t question them further. He runs inside Yellow, while Lance and Pidge stumble into Red.

“Drop me off at Green.” Pidge says.

“Can you fly like you are?” He asks, nodding to her shoulder.

“I’ll...be fine.” She says, covering the wound.

Reluctantly, Lance nods, and pulls the Blue Lion out of the hangar bay. He dodges the odd fighter as he brings Lion around the station, to where Pidge directs.

Pidge hits a button on her wrist and the Green Lion appears. She moves to leave the Blue Lion, then stops. Then, she spins around and hugs Lance from the back of his chair.

“...thank you, Lance. For saving me.” She whispers.

Lance blushes and lets out a strangled cough. “You uh...you saved me too. So, really I think we’re even.”

“I...guess so.”

Then, before either of the can say anything more, Pidge pulls back, and turns to leave. She jumps out of one Lion, and into the other.

Back inside her own Lion, Pidge immediately winces as she tries to move the throttle with her bad arm. “Gonna be a fun ride home…” She opens her other hand, and allows a slight smile. She still holds the drive.

“Keith...I got it. Mission was a success.”

Then, gritting her teeth, she pushes the Lion into motion.

She rejoins the rest of the now retreating Coalition forces. There is still some exchanging of fire, but the Coalition breaks away, and one by one, jump out of sight.

***

Prince Lotor watches them go. His right eye now shut, with a deep cut running through it. Sendak, Raimon and Honvera are also in the room, watching the display.

“Zarkon will not be pleased.” Sendak notes.

Honerva’s eye twitches ever so slightly at this comment.

“No...he wont.” Lotor turns around, facing the others. “Which is why I won’t be here when he arrives.”

“Running, Prince?” Sendak asks. “That is...unlike you.”

“Not running.” Lotor shakes is head. “But I’m not going back to him empty handed, either.”

“What then?” Honvera asks.

“I think...I’ll have to go after them myself.” Lotor says, as if coming to a decision. “We know where they are now, and I think I’ve begun to understand how they think. It’ll take a subtler touch. I don’t think I’ll manage it alone. They seem to work well together...” He rubs his new scar, absently. “...Raimon?”

“...yes?” The armored man replies.

“Will you come with me?”

The man does not reply.

“Sendak is occupied with the armies. My mother is occupied elsewhere. It's just you and me. The two ones Zarkon hasn’t deemed fit more much else.”

Still, Raimon remains silent.

“Oh come on. I know you’ve got your dedication to Zarkon, but he hasn’t give you orders yet. If he hasn’t given you orders you can’t defy him, right?”

Raimon gives the barest of nods.

“Then come with me. The two of us, we can show Zarkon why he needs us, what we bring to the table. We might even deliver the critical blow to our enemy in the process. What do you say, old friend?”

Raimon seems to hesitate, as if torn. After a long pause he finally says in a quiet voice: “...I will join you.”

“Good.” Lotor says, narrowing his good eye. “Let’s go hunting.”

#plance #pigdance #pance #garden #voltron #lance #pidge #hunk #lotor #prince lotor #season eight #fixitfic #fix it fic #voltron legendary defender #katie holt #lance mcclain #theplanciestepisodeyet

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minteapurrs · 5 years

Text

Oop Issa Tag

Tagged by @spectrophilias let's get this bread

Rules: Answer 21 questions and tag 21 people you wanna know better (lmao okay)

1. Nickname(s): Nala, Little Cubana, Jackass

2. Zodiac sign: Aries🔥

3. Height: 5'2

4. Hogwart's House: Ravenclaw (Idk how I'm a whole dumbass lmaooo)

5. Last Thing Googled: Astro See You Yesterday (Bro have you seen him..... My mans is.... Fine......)

6. Favorite Artist(s): Oooo I got a whole lot of faves but uhm... My current top three are Chance the Rapper, Blackbear and Lizzo bc ultimate moods 😔✊🏾

7. Song stuck in my head: Make You Feel by Alina Baraz and Galimatias

8. Favourite Time(s) Of Day: Sunrise and Sunset bc pretty and they make my room look SOFT AS SHIT when it hits the skylight right

9. Favourite Colour(s): PURPLE, all the shades, and then soft shades of all the other colors of the rainbow

10. Following: 1023 (whoops)

11. Followers: 553 on main (How sway)

12. Do I get asks: Occasionally, normally when I'm bothering my more popular mutuals

13. Amount of Sleep: Idk man, I'm not counting

14. Favourite Number(s): 2, 7, 16, 22, 24

15. Wearing: Baggy blue-ish purple top w light purple pajama pants and purple sports socks

16. Dream Job: Veterinarian! Shocking ik

17. Instrument(s): Piano/Keyboard

18. Language(s): English primarily, rusty Spanish bc everyone up and stopped speaking it and I haven't had anyone to speak it w in years😔

19. Favorite Song(s): Why is this......so far down the list excuse me wh I don't rlly have a select favorite ever so here's my current repeat bops; Tempo by Lizzo, Make Daddy Proud by Blackbear, Thinking by Mounika and Same Drugs by Chance the Rapper

20. Random Fact: If you give me the chance I will have an entire conversation with you via reaction memes. Don't test me

21. Aesthetic: Bike riding in the city at night, baggy sweaters and snapbacks and bookbags and tea. That one scene from Detective Pokemon where theres a bunch of papers all over the floor. Yeah. I love so many but this is my most prominent one sjdkefjjdc

Tagging: @stupid-altean-pools, @l-x-ie , @ayyeeequality , @imalwaysaslutforwater (it won't lemme tag it but holy shit I love your username it makes me happy every time it pops up), @lemonistics, @wishem, @keiths-stupid-mullet

I don't feel like tagging anymore😔

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shastelly · 5 years

Text

Summer - March Klance Prompts from MonthlyKlance - Day 24

Day 24 of March in May...yep...I will not give up!

Also this is some serious fluffy nonsense just so you know before you start :). The paladins need a vacation :)

Day 24 – Summer

"Where did they even find those jackets?" Keith asked bewildered.

"At the space mall." Shiro answered in a similar state of disbelief.

"I fear we may have pushed them too hard." Allura stuttered.

"It does seem some downtime might be in order." Coran nodded flinching as Lance pulled out a blonde wig and put it on for the next "scene" in the musical the youngest paladins had decided to put on for their amusement.

"Lance isn't good as a blonde." Keith commented. "The poodle skirt fine, but the wig is just off."

"I'm not sure whatever it is that Pidge is wearing is much better. How many socks did they stuff in her shirt?" Shiro blinked.

"More than Lance's." Keith answered.

"You'd think Hunk would have taken off the headband, it doesn't match his jacket at all." Allura puzzled.

"I'm having trouble keeping track of which part they are playing at which time." Shiro admitted.

"I'm pretty sure Pidge is Rizzo. Lance is Sandy and Kenickie. Hunk is Danny and Frenchie and maybe Marty. I'm really unclear on the other parts. I think they keep forgetting to change clothes." Keith muttered, earning a surprised look from Shiro who didn't think he'd ever seen Grease before.

***

"Lance, does dance rather well though." Coran pointed out as he was switching wigs between playing Sandy and Cha Cha.

The others hummed in agreement, trapped watching the youngest three sing and dance their hearts out. To be honest for an impromptu musical with no instruments, sets, scripts from memory and a cast of three they were really doing a pretty good job.

***

"Are those real cars? Pidge!" Shiro hollered over the revving engines, before Hunk and Pidge flew off down the hall in their race.

Keith laughed.

***

"Is the message of this show that you should change yourself to match your friends?!" Allura asked outraged.

Shiro and Keith were not capable of responding given Lance's appearance in the black leather outfit.

***

Coran had happily joined the end song and the four of them were giggling and singing about always being together.

Shiro, Allura, and Keith sat watching them dance away, clapping mechanically.

"So, vacation?" Shiro asked still staring straight ahead.

"Vacation." Allura agreed.

"Leather." Keith muttered watching Lance dance away.

***

And so, a week later…

"I have an announcement." Allura stood at the head of the table after dinner. "As it turns out we have no scheduled missions for the next three days and we are near a resort planet that I used to visit as a child called Sabra."

"What?" Hunk blinked.

"I have arranged for us, barring any emergency of course, to have rooms at the very same resort I used to visit. And no worries, Coran went and made the reservations himself to assure that it is still as nice as it was ten thousand years ago." Allura smiled at them.

"Actually, it's nicer. Apparently, it was rebuilt recently and is the best of the hotels on the shore." Coran assured.

"Shore?" Lance asked in awe.

"Yes, the resort sits on one of the planets many oceans. Each has a different color. This one is lavender and was always my favorite. The entire planet survives on revenue from visiting tourists. It is considered a non-conflict zone; no weapons are allowed on the planet. Oh Coran, is the carnival still on the beach?" Allura asked a childlike gleam in her eyes.

"Yes, indeed Princess, bigger and better than ever."

"A beach? Ocean? Carnival?" Lance's eyes blinked open and closed like a doll.

"I think you broke Lance," Pidge snarked.

"I am soooooo excited!" Hunk grabbed Lance's arm which seemed to snap him out of his shock. He in turn grabbed Hunk and they were soon screaming and jumping up and down.

"Oh, I need swim trunks? Coran?" Lance stopped jumping and turned dramatically to Coran.

"No worries, there is an entire section of resort wear in the castle storage, you may come and choose what you like." He answered with a dramatic twirl of his moustache. "I will, of course, be able to provide guidance on what is really fashionable."

Lance jumped up and he and Coran were off and ranting about packing for the trip for everyone.

"Don't worry guys, I'll keep an eye on them." Hunk offered with a wave and headed after them.

As it turns out someone should have had an eye on Allura as well.

"Exactly what is in here?" Shiro asked exasperated as he lifted the universe's heaviest suitcase/trunk into the shuttle they were using.

"Industrial size hair dryer." Pidge muttered trying to cram another of the princess’s cases into the back.

"A princess needs to be prepared for all circumstances." Allura answered primly batting her eyes before laughing and helping pack another huge trunk into the shuttle.

"Is there a weight restriction?" Hunk asked in awe.

"This is fine." Coran nodded. "You should have seen her mother pack for vacation." Coran shook his head then. "We had to take three shuttles to fit the family and their luggage."

"Sounds fair." Lance smiled at Allura. His own trunk was much smaller, but still twice as large as any of the others. Lance had on a huge pair of blue sunglasses, a white button-down shirt and blue and red shorts that hit near his knee. He'd managed to find some kind of Altean sandals that were brown and wrapped around his feet and ankles.

"Shut up, tourist." Pidge snarked. She was wearing a green t-shirt and long khaki shorts and the Altean equivalent of flip flops.

"Be nice you two." Hunk's own bright yellow tank, white shorts, and flip flops made them the post card for beach travelers.

"Are we ready?" Coran laughed, his own blue and orange striped attire looked like a bathing suit from the 1800's or something. He even had a blue hat to go with it.

"Shotgun!" Lance yelled.

***

Two varga later…

They had parked the castle in an asteroid belt, hidden from sensors and well protected. The planet had assured them it would be safe to orbit, but they were unwilling to leave it unmanned like that and they had all deserved the vacation. However, the three varga shuttle ride was turning out to be a little much for them all in a single shuttle, crammed into two rows of seats due to someone's excessive packing.

"I called shotgun. It isn't fair." Lance complained for the fifth time from the backseat where he was shoved between Keith and Hunk. Pidge was sitting on Hunk's lap her legs stretched over the top of them.

"Sorry, Lance, the grown-ups got the front seat." Allura echoed back, not sounding the least bit sorry.

"Like you are so much older!" Lance huffed.

"At least 10,000 years." Allura quipped.

"That does not count. Keith, quit touching me!" Lance elbowed his neighbor.

"Exactly how am I supposed to do that. We are packed right against each other." Keith growled elbowing back.

"Would you quit! I'm already dying back here. Shiro, are you sure you can't turn up the air? I have a Pidge blanket." Hunk whined.

"It's all the way up, Hunk, and we are freezing up here. Coran matches his hat." Shiro sighed.

Coran did look an interesting shade of blue just then.

Pidge shifted in her sleep tickling Lance's legs with her shorts. He laughed loudly and jerked at the sensation, elbowing both Keith and Hunk in the process. The other two boys snarled. Hunk shoved Lance so hard he ran into Keith again. Keith jabbed a sharp elbow into Lance's stomach making him pitch forward and sliding Pidge's legs into the back of the seat in front of them.

"STOP KICKING THE SEAT!" Shiro was close to losing his shit.

"Ow." Lance breathed giving dirty looks to both Hunk and Keith.

Pidge snored and rolled back over onto all of them.

Lance scooted back and spread his elbows and legs as wide as he could pushing against the other boys.

"Enough with the man spread, Lance." Hunk griped shoving his leg over and leaning on him.

"I'm squished. You guys keep pushing me around." Lance growled.

"Then stay in the middle." Keith stomped on his foot.

"OOW!" Lance yelled and drove an elbow at Keith's middle, which he blocked and pinched Lance's arm. "OWW! QUIT! You guys are being jerks!"

"IF YOU DON'T QUIT FIGHTING BACK THERE I SWEAR I WILL PULL THIS DAMN THING OVER!" Shiro yelled from the front seat.

Keith, Hunk, and Lance all shared a look before they burst out laughing at him. Shiro groaned.

Pidge sat up and yawned, "Are we there yet?"

***

The resort and beach were everything that Allura had promised. The resort hotel stood fifty stories high, reflective glass windows covered the building. The pale purple water of the ocean washed onto the shore in waves that had Lance and Hunk yelling about surfing. The white sands of the beach were pristine and stretched as far as they could see. When they landed the pod several different types of aliens all dressed in the same crisp white uniforms rushed out and began moving their luggage. Allura said that they had condos reserved along the beach. They were given three small vehicles that looked like hovering golf carts. They received a map of the resort with locations and times for activities and a reminder that there was a feast planned in their honor for that evening.

Shiro loaded into one cart with Allura and Pidge. Coran tried to take the wheel on the next, but Keith beat him, which prompted Lance to take the third wheel with Hunk at his side and challenge Keith to a race. Unfortunately, or fortunately as it may be, the carts were very slow, and the race was a pathetic tie.

Allura and Pidge took the first condo, Shiro and Keith the second. That left Hunk, Coran and Lance in the third.

Lance walked in enjoying the beach themed decorations, of course it was all in purples and not blues, which he would have preferred, but they were soft colors with bright white accents and wave designs over everything, even some oddly square shells. He noticed two beds and a couch in the main area.

"I call the couch." He announced making it sound like a preference, and not a preemptive move to avoid being stuck with it, as the youngest in a family of five this was not an unusual arrangement for him. Hunk gave him a grateful smile aware of what he was doing.

"Oh, good choice." Coran crowed. He pressed a button and the couch cushion lifted to float about five feet from the ground and fluffed out to look like a cloud bed. "These are supposed to be wonderful to sleep on, though, I'll admit I don't relish the idea of floating in my sleep."

"It's great." A huge grin split Lance's face and he rushed over to the other condo to tell Keith and Shiro about it.

***

At the banquet that evening, there was a huge bonfire and lots of food, dancing and music. Hunk said it was like a Luau. Lance said it was like a family beach party. The others just thought it was fun. There was some sort of beverage in a red coconut looking thing that Shiro objected to at first, but after a brief discussion with Allura he allowed.

Lance took a sip and smiled, "It tastes like a Pina Colada!"

"Why do you know what that tastes like?" Keith frowned.

"My sister-in-law used to let me drink a little of hers, not a lot, just a taste." Lance sipped happily. "This tastes almost exactly like the ones my brother would make."

Hunk sniffed and sipped tentatively, "It is good."

"Please don't get carried away, no more than three or make that two for you Pidge." Shiro frowned unsure if this was the proper thing to do.

"Shiro, you are not my parent. You are like an older brother. Act like it, be a bad influence once in a while too." Keith grinned as he sipped.

"Yeah, be the older frat brother that rolls you over, so you don't choke on your vomit after he gets you to drink way too much." Lance offered.

Hunk, Pidge, Keith, and Shiro stared at him.

"What? Am I the only one that had a life?" Lance chugged the rest of his drink and smiled, "I'm dancing." He rushed back out to where others were already dancing around the bonfire.

Hunk shrugged looking at the others, "He's not wrong, we are social rejects."

"I wasn't." Shiro objected quietly.

"Yes, but what are you now, Space Dad." Pidge snarked.

Shiro glared at her, downed his drink, and laughed, "Dancing." He walked away to join Lance, who looked surprised but happy to have Shiro grab him and spin him around.

"Huh." Keith offered.

"It does look like fun." Hunk decided.

"Where are Allura and Coran?" Pidge asked before spotting them lounging at the bar watching the two dancing paladins. Pidge waved them off and headed over to the Alteans. She was not dancing.

"So, may I have this dance?" Hunk asked offering Keith his hand.

"Why not?" Keith smiled and they both finished their drinks before heading out to join the other two dancing.

***

Lance woke the next morning sleeping on a cloud. He smiled and stretched. He'd danced with everyone he thought, so many smiles and laughs and new dances and Pina Colodas. He found himself grinning in realization that he had not gotten that drunk and did not have a head ache or naseau this morning, the alien booze must not have been very strong.

He lowered his bed back to the couch and slipped on a hoodie. The morning was gray and looked chilly. He didn't bother with shoes. He went out to beach and walked along the edge of the water, watching the water come and go and walking in and out of it. Leaving footprints in the white sand. The colors were wrong, but it reminded him so strongly of home that he half expected his mama to call him to breakfast. He closed his eyes thinking of the many mornings he had woke before everyone else and done just this, ever since he was deemed old enough to be trusted to stay out of the water when no one else was around.

"Lance?" Keith's voice was quiet, but Lance still jumped.

"You really want to give me a heart attack, don't you?" Lance shook his head, wiping tears on the sleeve of his hoodie. Keith was dressed in workout clothes and had probably been running as he was sweating and panting a bit.

"No. You okay?" Keith frowned.

"Yeah, just really reminds me of home. It's good, but sad too." Lance sighed. "I wonder when we will get to go home again or even if we ever will."

"We will." Keith stated like it was a fact.

"You can't know that. Zarkon has been in power for ten thousand years, do we really think we're going to beat him in a year or two and go home?"

"Sure, Voltron hasn't been around all that time. We kick his ass and then go home." Keith smiled slyly.

"Sure." Lance shook his head.

"Seriously though, we have the weapon he has always feared and there has to be a reason. He knows we can beat him. We will get back home. It might take a while but we're going." Keith put an arm around Lance.

"I like that you're sure." Lance offered. He wasn't quite convinced, but it helped that Keith seemed to be.

"Tell me something you used to do on the beach? Something we could do today?" Keith pried.

"Well, sometimes in the summer we would have sandcastle building contests, Mami would judge them." Lance smiled at the memory and the crazy things he and his siblings had created.

"We can do that." Keith nodded. "I've never done that before."

"You've never built a sandcastle?" Lance asked shocked.

"Lance, this is the first time I've ever been to a beach like this." Keith gestured to the horizon. "It just keeps going. It's amazing really."

Lance took several moments to recover, "Okay, so we are building sandcastles, then I'm teaching you to swim in a current like this, and then we are going to make some surfboards. Oh, and we have to bury you in the sand." Lance rattled off happily.

"Bury me?" Keith raised his eyebrows and frowned.

"Don't look at me like that. You cover up like half of the person with sand or maybe up to their neck, depending on what you are doing. You can just make it look weird like a head in the sand, or make them look like something else, like a mermaid or something. It feels cool and it's fun and you've never done it so you're trying it. Also, we have to hunt for seashells, do they have those here? Well even if they don’t, we can still hunt for them and then we'll know."

Keith smiled in amusement as Lance continued rattling off important things to do as one by one the others joined them. The sandcastle contest was something to behold. Pidge had declared that picking teams sucked and had them draw straws. Team one was Keith, Pidge, and Hunk. Team two was Lance, Shiro, and Coran. Allura was the official judge, as obviously a princess knows a lot about castles according to Lance.

Team One's castle was huge, easily eight feet tall at the peak of the highest tower. It bore a striking resemblance to Cinderella's castle, though not enough to worry about a copyright. Pidge had created a draw bridge that opened and closed and installed some kind of luminescent shells to the interior to give lighting. Keith had gathered shells and layered them on the towers to act like tile roofs. It was overall very striking.

Team Two's castle looked like a flying alien city. It wasn't as tall only about six foot at the top of the central spire, but the towers were decorated with glass and there were spirals of glass in different colors that shot up throughout the castle. Pidge argued it was cheating. Lance argued it was just hot sand and why shouldn't they make it since they had Shiro on their team.

Allura declared it a tie over their bickering and told them to come to lunch. She had a picnic delivered to the beach and they sat on blankets and ate something that looked like peanut butter and jelly - if the peanut butter was made with beans instead of peanuts and the jelly was bacon flavored.

After the meal they all laid out and took a nap. It was crazy to relax like this and it had really been too long. Pidge had started to creep away to a laptop, but Allura caught her by the wrist.

"Pidge, everything needs to recharge sometime, even you. Give yourself this time and when you get back you will be more prepared and will work faster." Allura begged. "We can't work ourselves to death; there is no one to take our places."

Pidge paused pondering what Allura had said and then nodded, curling back up on the blanket and snuggling into Hunk's side. Allura allowed herself to relax again. This was something they all needed.

The swimming lessons commenced after. Keith wasn't a bad swimmer and Lance only had to rescue him once before he listened to his fellow paladin about the dangers of the undertow. Hunk splashed right along with them as did Allura. Coran, Shiro, and Pidge stayed on the shoreline. Pidge said she was part robot and water was bad for her. Shiro waved his own anchor of an arm as an excuse and Coran simply laughed and said they couldn't teach an old warbraxlian like himself any new things. Lance was an amazing swimmer and Keith had a hard time keeping his eyes off of him. He even challenged the princess to a race. He lost, but he claimed her shifting into something with flippers was cheating anyway.

Keith was shocked at how exhausted he was when he came out of the water and how heavy his body felt. Swimming in the ocean was really a lot more tiring than a pool, Lance had been right. Lance grabbed him a towel to lay down on and declared it was time to bury him, so he could take a nap.

When Keith woke to a mermaid tale and breasts he had to clamor out of the sand and chase Lance around the beach for a while until he caught him and dragged him back to the towel and declared it was his turn. Lance complained he would have been fine with the mermaid body, but Keith gave him the body of a middle-aged man with a beer gut. Pidge carefully documented both, though the boys were not yet aware of it. They would be when she needed something.

They were making preparations for the evening meal when an alarm sounded on a device Allura was carrying. She frowned and tapped at it, before sighing and turning to the others.

"I'm sorry everyone, but we will need to cut this short. There has been a Galra fleet detected in the vicinity of an alliance planet. We need to get there and be ready to defend them if needed." Allura smiled sadly at the paladins, to their credit they all nodded without complaint. She was proud of them. "Let's have everything packed and be in the shuttle as quickly as possible. I would like to wormhole out tonight."

The packing went smoothly. They had all been aware that this was a possibility and had made accommodations to allow for quick pack ups.

Crowded back in the shuttle on the way to the castle, Lance leaned his head against Keith's shoulder, "How was your first beach trip?”

“It was good.” Keith smiled softly.

“Sorry we didn't get to go surfing or hunt sea shells." Lance frowned

"It's okay." Keith shrugged. "There wasn't anything we could do."

"I know, but I guess we did a lot." Lance suddenly quirked a smile, “We can go surfing and hunt sea shells when we get home.”

"I would like that. I could see myself living on a beach someday." Keith smiled over at Lance.

"Oh yeah, maybe we could be neighbors?" Lance smiled thinking about his dreamhouse on the beach.

Keith hummed and turned so that his violet eyes were staring straight into Lance's ocean blues, "Maybe we could be closer than that."

"Oh yeah?" Lance blinked and licked his lips, before grinning mischievously, "So roomies, huh?" Hunk choked on laughter and Pidge swatted him in the back of the head, but Lance just laughed at the frustrated look on Keith's face, before leaning back against his shoulder and closing his eyes.

"I could find room for a mullet in my dream house." Lance muttered as his breathing slowed and evened into sleep.

Keith smiled down at him and wondered what he was getting himself into.

#voltron #monthlyklance #monthlyklance march 2019 #klance #fluff

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