#no sleep until voltron

[callmelyc]

Lances ex was terrible

He was the kind of ex that was really full of themselves, cruel, didn't like Lance spending too much time with anyone else (not that his ex girlfriends were any better).

So when they finally broke up everyone rejoiced. The demon had been slain!

Until...he came to get his shit out of Lances apartment because not only did he take his shitty wardrobe he also stole Lances precious baby blue!

His beautiful baby, his sweet meow meow, his darling princess.

But because Lance had no proof the asshat got off scott-free!

He'd cried for hours not knowing what to do and his stupid ex blocked him so Lance couldn't even attempt to beg for his cat daughter back. So he did what anyone would do, he complained online.

The comments flooded with people trying to come up with ideas until one stood out. Some guy with a photo of a motorcycle asking what this ex looks like.

Lance sniffled sending pictures in the replies and waited. He wasn't sure why anyone would want a picture but maybe the guy wanted it so he could keep an eye out? The reply didn't take long at all and it only baffled Lance further.

The guy, Keith K, responded in seconds "dw I can handle this."

Before Lance could even question anything Keiths status had switched to offline leaving Lance to read through other comments as possible solutions.

~•~

At 1am Lances phone lights up with a call. Now, normally Lance would ignore these, who responds to random calls especially at 1am?

But he looks down and it's the same name of the guy from earlier, Keith K. Lance will admit first a foremost he doesn't always think things through and come on now, he was curious to know how this guy got his number at all.

So lance picks up, groggy with sleep "hello??"

"I got ur cat back, do you wanna meet up for her or would you like to wait until later?"

That got lances attention. Now more awake he scrambles to get dressed "are you sure? Like ur sure it's my cat?"

"your name and number are on the collar"

"Where do you wanna meet?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that? I am the stranger."

"Yeah but ur a stranger that apparently saved my darling daughter!?"

Lance hears a small laugh on the other side of the line "I'll shoot you my location?"

"Sounds good to me."

The second the call ends Lance receives directions to a place 15min out and a picture of blue safe in a cat carrier. He's more than relieved to both see her and have proof this wasn't a dream, though he is still weary.

He shoots off a text to Hunk and Pidge with his location/tracking on in case something went wrong and Lance rushes out the door to go meet this stranger. They'll likely wonder what he's up to at this hour, maybe even spam call him in worry. However, Lance doesn't have the patience right now now when his baby is in some randos hands.

Pulling up to the 24hr McDonald's he doesn't even care that he's meeting a stranger anymore the second he sees his baby blue through the window. Lance rushes inside and the second she spots him she paws at the carrier door with a sweet little meow. He's cooing over her and letting her out to make sure she's safe when he finally looks up to see her knight in shining armor.

And wow....this guy is hot.

Dark hair, deep eyes, leather jacket and gloves.

Dude looks straight out of a Harley magazine despite the beat up pick-up in the parking lot Lance is positive belongs to him.

As blue snuggles into Lances hold he looks at Keith with the first genuine smile he's had in days "thank you, I-I don't even know what to say? I can't thank you enough how on earth did you manage this?"

Keith just gestures for lance to sit down across from him, so he does, and smiles "I have my ways."

Oh? Well Lance has to know now "go on share the deets. I can offer you whatever you want off the menu as payment."

The other man snorts "it's fine I'll share without pay...This time."

"Oh? How generous of you."

Keith leans forward on the table "your ex was already on dating apps. I pretended I'd take him on a good date and went home with him. The second he left to get pretty for me I took the cat and ran, he's a douche."

That...what not at all what Lance expected to hear. His jaw was on the floor. He laughed in surprised awe "you...you got my cat back by luring him into false security??"

Keith's brow lifts "what like it's hard? He's the one that fell for it and got uno reverse robbed. I don't know what you saw in him."

That only gets lance to laugh harder "yeah, I don't either."

They spend the rest of the early morning chatting and eventually exchanging phone numbers.

On the way out Keith stops him though "actually, I changed my mind I do want payment."

"Oh yeah? Like what"

He smiles "how about a date?"

Lance is left breathless in the light of the rising sun "you won't be robbing me now, will you?"

"and if I say I am?"

"what do you aim to steal from me mr.criminal?"

Keith leans in just slightly "your heart? If things go well."

Lance gives him a quick peck on the cheek "yeah, yeah I can do that."

No one believes Lance when he says he got a new boyfriend because the guy stole his cat back from his ex.

[slav-every-day]

[salfishersimp2]

My little silly stupid rant about voltron and a fanfic and my breakdown about it 🥰

Okay so hear me out

I had a little tiny widdle breakdown about Lance wanting to wear a skirt (look up "skirt, dirt, worth" on ao3 for reference)

And self-inserting myself into the vld universe in my mind while rewatching the show has been one of the few joys I've been experiencing this week, but its also making me hella desperate to actually feel everything I've been imagining, and I think I might just stop working in a while if I don't fucking learn how to travel to another reality, which is obviously not gonna happen (believe me, I've tried before)

So (I'm getting to the point, bare with me) when I was reading skirt, dirt, worth I couldn't stop thinking "god if I was him I would've taken my lion and flew a few galaxies away to be in peace and cry alone" and I was fucking crying so much I only wished he'd do exactly that and it wasn't happening and it hasn't happened in the show or in any fanfic I've read no matter the character and its slowly tearing me apart and I desperately need to read or see or feel someone else's creation where this happens, with a devastating plot bc otherwise it doesn't make sense for me to breakdown the way I currently am but I need it to be one of the characters I already know from the show bc otherwise it also doesn't make sense, it doesn't feel worthy of all the feelings I'm feeling for it

I think my imagination went a little too far this time and my weird self-insert is very unhealthy rn and I just wanna get away from everything and I wanna cry so bad but I think that if I start crying for real I might have a panic attack and I don't wanna be too loud and I just don't like panic attacks and I want to scream until my voice stops working

[subway-tolkien]

Okay, this is 1600 words of (positive!) meta regarding the OFMD finale. Included is character analysis and a treatise on why a certain trope people keep throwing around does not apply here.

This is of course just my take, and I'm sure people will disagree, but I needed to get this out. Apologies if it comes off disjointed, I've had like no sleep.

Spoilers within, obviously. You have been warned. Heed the tags. I didn't tag any characters because I consider it a spoiler, but you know who this is about.

Listen. Listen.

Let me start off by saying I have been where you are. I’ve had beloved characters die, either because it was important to the narrative or for shock value. I’ve been there, so I’m not coming at this without empathy. I’m not an Izzy hater. I loved him as a character. I’m truly sad to see him go.

But from what I’m seeing around Twitter and tumblr, some of you do not understand the role of an antagonist in a story.

Izzy was always meant to die. The moment he said, in the first season, “the only retirement we get is death,” I knew he was meant to die in the end. The foreshadowing ran through both seasons. Izzy was the true antagonist of S1. He was there to keep Blackbeard tethered when he started pulling away, and yet he also set the plot in motion. He inadvertently introduced Blackbeard to the person who let him be just Ed. He put Ed on his own path to redemption without even knowing it.

S1 ended with Izzy getting what he wanted as Ed lost everything he had. S2 was about Izzy coming to terms with the fact that he’d gone too far, he’d turned Ed into a monster. It wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted Blackbeard back, just like old times. Instead, he got the Kraken, and it was more than he bargained for.

Especially after it cost him his leg and he realized how far gone Ed really was. The conversation that ended with Izzy’s half-assed suicide attempt was the final blow to Izzy—Ed really didn’t seem to care anymore. Where Izzy wanted him to stop giving a shit about his silly boyfriend, he instead got a Blackbeard who didn’t care about anything, and he was apparently now included in that category.

(I said half-assed suicide attempt because Izzy wasn’t meant to die then, THAT would have been an empty, pointless death. It wouldn’t have taught Ed anything—in fact, all it did was make him more self-destructive, which was Izzy’s purpose to the narrative, but not his endgame. That Ed thought Izzy killed himself pushed Ed to the brink. Ed wanted to die and take every scrap of Blackbeard with him. Had Izzy successfully killed himself, Ed and the Revenge would be at the bottom of the ocean.

It wasn’t until the crew left Izzy the unicorn leg that he realized the power of compassion, the incredible act of grace from a crew that suffered so much from Izzy’s own machinations and didn't need to forgive him. It moved him to tears, and it moved him to accept that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to let people in, to let himself be cared for. It was a foreign concept and something Izzy likely hadn’t experienced since losing his family (I fully expect a shit ton of fanfic of Izzy’s life before piracy).

Israel Hands found the capacity to let love all the way in and by god, did he pursue it.

But, again, Izzy was always meant to die, and I’m glad they stuck to the narrative they set out with instead of placating fandom and letting our influence dictate how they told this story That’s never good, trust me. Fandom should not influence a creator’s decisions regarding their own characters. It rarely if ever ends well.

[Stares in Voltron S8]

And I see a lot of people out here throwing the “bury your gays” phrase around—I beg you, please look up the definition of the trope. Izzy didn’t die because he was queer, he didn’t die because of his disability. He wasn’t one half of the only queer couple in the show fridged for shock value. He wasn’t killed off due to pressure from conservative viewers. He wasn’t the only queer, disabled character.

They didn’t kill off Lucius, or Jackie, or Wee John. Would you be as outraged if it was any of them?

Killing Eve is bury your gays. Supernatural is bury your gays. Pretty much any film, book, TV show, whatever, where a queer character dies because they’re queer, of AIDs, to further the narrative for a straight person, etc—that is burying your gays.

Izzy’s death was none of those things. Izzy’s death had meaning.

Izzy’s death freed Ed from the Blackbeard persona. It finally forced Izzy to say the things he couldn’t say until he realized it was his last chance. Izzy was also tired. I honestly think he stuck it out for Ed’s sake, because he was afraid to let Blackbeard go without making sure Ed would be ok.

He loved the idea of Blackbeard, but over time, he learned to love Ed. He finally understood what Ed tried to tell him the whole time.

“Fuck off, you twat. You’re surrounded by family.”

You’re safe. You’re loved. You don’t need me anymore. You don’t need to be reminded of who you’re capable of being, you need the people who will guide you to who you will become, and I’m not one of them.

I know a lot of Izzy fans are stung by his death, some of you are deeply upset. I get that. Like I said, I’ve been there. Sirius’s death made me throw that fucking book across the room. That Fucking Woman™ killed off my entire OTP, purely for shock value and, imho, a direct response to shippers. Trust me, I have felt betrayed by a creator for their decisions.

But I need you to understand that no, this was not a personal attack, this was not malicious, this was not “bury your gays." A show that celebrates queerness and diversity is not suddenly homophobic and ableist because your favorite character died and happened to be both of those things. But when the majority of your cast of characters is different in some way, and they’re in a show about 18th century pirates, you have to accept that one of them could, in fact, die. “Anyone Can Die” is also a trope and the more accurate one to describe E8.

If only being queer and disabled made you invincible.

Spoiler alert: it doesn’t.

And no, I’m not an Izzy hater. I loved him, I loved him as an antagonist, and I loved his redemption arc. He was fascinating and Con put his whole O’Nussy into that part. I’m sorry to see him go, but as a mystery writer who often has to kill off beloved characters, I understand that he served the purpose he had from the beginning.

I swear, if some of you had your way, there’d be no conflict at all in any form of media. This what a steady diet of nothing but fanfic gets you. This is not a fluffy one-shot with magical healing dick and a happy ending where everyone sails off into the sunset. If that’s what you wanted, what you headcanoned, you did this to yourself. It’s not David et al’s fault that we took that character and babygirled him. That’s the risk we take when we decide to love a specific character, when we take a genuinely terrible person (in S1) and woobify him.

So, please stop harassing and attacking David, Alex, et al. David did not and should not change his story to placate us. The fact he went ahead with it despite the backlash I’m sure he expected makes me respect him as a creator even more.

Anyway, I’m going to revel that we have three (!) queer relationships with happy endings where one or both didn’t immediately die (again, the actual definition of “bury your gays”) and that we got at least two seasons of a little show that celebrated individualism, diversity, queerness, compassion, and love.

In the end, it all came down to love.

“There he is.”

Goodbye, Blackbeard.

Hello, Ed.

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 58

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

The Value of a Moment by @a-fools-errand

When Lance’s previously obsolete skills in language suddenly become very useful, he finds himself wondering why aliens can’t account for the fact that humans, particularly him, need sleep and would prefer linear timelines. (Or: an Arrival AU because I love that movie)

yall OBSESSED does not begin to cover it. i have never read a fic where lance was so goddamn cool. and in like. the insanest of ways?? like of course lance is a polyglot but THIS....this is a whole new level. i havent even finished it fully yet but like god this thing is so fucking cool. if ur looking for a longfic stop looking

2. Rest Stop by @flaming-potato-arsonarson

Lance wasn't like the rest of the world. And he had never had a loving mother tell him it made him stronger for it. So he told himself, gathering up his courage and grit to face a world of winged humanity, when he, in fact, has no wings and turns into a mermaid instead. A world that wants him to die. So he'd keep this secret like a knife in his boot, a sharp weapon until he died on his own terms. Not because of who he was. Except, Team Voltron isn't so sure why Lance is all rough edges and sharp points about showing off his wings. Or acting like a member of the Flock in general. It's clear he cares for them, but he's never shown an intimate part of him. Until he has to.

oh god this has gotta be one of my CLASSIC fics. read it a few dozen times. i read it right when it came out, six ish years ago (goddamn), i can remember curling up in my old bunk bad and eating this up as the hours ticked by. i was HOOKED. my jaw was dropped my eyes were glued. could not get enough. if youre looking for mermaid lance with a twist....brother this is it

3. Looking for Rain by @thewriter2

Like most things, it starts with the little things: his smile, his confidence, his talent. Eventually, all these little things add up to one big thing that threatens to crash over them like a heavy rain. But, maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing. Maybe something beautiful would come from it. A 5+1 (really a 10+1) of Lance and Keith falling in love.

oh god guys..... @thewriter2 knows how to fucking haunt you. if a 10+1 (!!) isnt enough for you, i want you to know this line has been echoing in my head since i first read: "He looks at you like you’re a storm and he’s a desert desperate to drown." UM??? EXCUSE ME???? SIMILE OF ALL TIME ACTUALLY???? keith being so so visibly obviously in love with lance is my actual roman empire shit never leaves my mind

4. Astronauts by @thewriter2

When they entered the Blue Lion, Keith was Lance’s rival--the person Lance was working so hard to surpass. But slowly, Lance found himself thinking of Keith less as a rival and more as something close to a friend. So of course, Lance’s traitor of a heart decided that it would be Lance’s kind of friend that it would fall in love with.

tags to sell you: "keith is a dork but lance loves him anyway" (dorky keith my beloved), "hunk is an a+ friend" (yes he is), "lance is a lovesick fool" (yeah), and "allura is older sister goals" yes yes YES you get it. and like....while keith pov is my favourite to write by far, lances pov as he realises he is in love....that will always hold such a special special place in my heart

5. his own worth by frogsterz

In the middle of the conversation, Lance stops talking and no one notices. It’s not like he had been leading the conversation, for he hadn’t been, but somehow the fact that his lack of input or opinion isn’t noticed tightens the grip loneliness has on his heart. He looks down at his food, his face burning, his throat tightening up.

now usually anything but team as family isnt my deal. im not big on classic langst. but keith as a knight in shining armour.....what can i say i am weak willed. deeply. also " It’s what made it worse. I miss home and I miss being held and the rain, and I loved you. I thought you hated me." got me so bad got me WEAK like i have never recovered from that line and i doubt i ever will

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

[foolinafable]

time

Keith Kogane x Fem!Reader Synopsis: The mission was simple. All Keith had to do was find the rebel's undercover operative and get them out of Haggar's ship before the coalition attacked it. He didn’t expect you to have no idea and fight back. But that was fine, or it was until he tried to stab you with a sleeping injection only for him to not be able to touch you with it. No this wasn't simple at all. Word Count: 1.5K Tags: Soulmate au

Soulmates are few and far between on earth. When you're younger you might go around pinching people to see if it hurts them but as you get older and realise how many people are on this planet you slowly give up and settle for someone else. Rarely would you ever see someone going around and hurting others in order to find their soulmate? Or even people hurting others accidentally and that person actually being their soulmate- it’s not really the culture. 

Keith never cared for it anyway, preferring to believe that he was destined to be forever alone because nobody could ever be the other half of him. His views are largely different to Lance's, who dreams about the day he would meet “the love of his life,” always daydreaming about someone he may never meet. 

Keith thought it was ridiculous but then again Lance’s parents were soulmates so maybe that instilled a false self of hope in the Cuban who rather than be worried he may never meet his soulmate especially now they were in space was now excited at the prospect that they could be in an entirely different galaxy- a thought that would make others like Keith feel hopeless. No matter how many times Keith tried to tell the boy not to get his hopes up this seemed to be one thing that Lance wouldn't let go of especially after Hunk found his soulmate Shay. 

When he was younger, Keith like many others loved the idea that there was somebody out there destined for you, a person who would always be there for you. The thought comforted him for a time before he decided that soulmates were a stupid idea and that even if he did have one it would be just his luck that he would never find them- not like he was one for romance anyway. 

Keith was glad he had a mission so he could get away from Lance and his whining after he had another dream about meeting his soulmate. It was exhausting hearing Lance talk about someone he was likely never going to meet and Keith was at the end of his tether, so being sent on a solo rescue mission was just what he needed to blow off some steam. He was glad that the rebels trusted him to do this. But, he was feeling even more pressure to prove himself to the coalition now Shiro was gone and he had taken up the mantle of the black paladin, leader of Voltron. 

It was a simple mission, the rebels had sent one of their operatives undercover on Haggar's ship where they had been gathering intel and now they needed to be extracted before the coalition launched its attack on the ship hoping that they could not only gather more intel from the ship on galra plans but also on Shiro's location. 

Hiding the Black lion behind an asteroid near the ship he jetpacked the rest of the way there. He could hear Pidge Talking to him via the comms on where to land and how to get into the ship undetected. Following her directions without a hitch, he quickly found himself inside the galran cruiser making his way towards where the operatives living quarters he put in the door code in that they had supplied the rebels with and was deflated to find nobody in the room. He quickly stepped inside, closing the door when he heard the sound of steps coming his way, deciding it would be better to just stay here until they came back. He tapped his feet on the ground in annoyance wanting to get this done quickly in hopes that they may have intel on Shiro or local prisoner ships at the least. He quickly hid on the wall of the door when he heard someone come up to it, sword drawn in case it wasn't the operative but before he could even see how it was a dagger was being shoved into his neck as he was backed up against the wall, his sword falling to the ground.

“Who are you and what are you doing in my room?” you spoke venom in your voice digging the dagger further into the boy's neck as it struggled to answer

“You're the operative?” Keith questioned before saying your name causing you to lose your hold on the dagger “I’m here to extract you, The rebels sent me” he tried to explain shocked that you had been able to catch him off guard

“That’s not true and I don’t work with the rebels, I work for Haggar” You haven't heard anything from the rebels so this must be a trap

“I don’t have time for this” Keith snapped as he pulled a syringe out of his pocket going to stab you in the hand when a force stopped it from even touching your hand.

You were having a similar predicament as when you tried to cut his hand off with your dagger it instead stopped as if an invisible force was blocking you. The two of you stared at each other in shock clearly knowing what this meant 

“I really don’t have time for this either” Keith grabbed your hand and dragged you out of your room once again following Pidge's directions getting out of the ship and into the Black lion with such ease it made him wonder why they didn’t infiltrate bases more often.

The journey back to the castle of lions was awkward, to say the least. After Keith had shown you that you in fact weren't getting kidnapped by a paladin of Voltron it finally hit you what had happened. You couldn't hurt him and he couldn't hurt you- which meant you were soulmates. It was a thought that would have made you excited if you didn't remember his reaction. He clearly didn’t want a soulmate claiming he didn't have the time. Waited all your life to meet your soulmate and they don’t even want you- just your luck you guess.       

Princess Allura had graciously decided to host you for a few days as all of the rebels' resources were going towards their invasion of Haggar's ship which meant they wouldn't be able to come and take you back to base for a full debrief straight away much to your annoyance. You would feel bad if your supposed soulmate didn’t want to give you the time of day. Honestly, you just felt sad. All your life is supposed to lead up to finding this one person and that is all you get? Your thoughts were quickly halted by the sounds of voices coming down the corridor 

“Why are you acting so angsty Keith, I thought you were over this whole emo boy stuff” you heard unfamiliar voice call out  

“Shut up Lance” Keith, you assumed, replied annoyed 

“Hey! It’s not my fault you’ve had a stick up your arse since you returned from your little rescue mission” Lance defended “What is she your soulmate or something” he queried in a joking manner somewhat laughing at his own words but his laughter quickly dies down at the lack of response from the other boy “Your joking?” Lance cried out clearly surprised “You're not joking” he quickly realised

“I’m not” is all the other boy said almost as if he still didn’t believe it but as quickly as their voices appeared in the corridor they also left before you could hear anything else.

Just great you thought as you dropped onto the bed deciding to take a nap in hopes it will give you some respite from this hell.  

It wasn’t until the second day of your three-day stay that he came up to you, he had clearly sought you out as nobody the whole day had entered the common room and he seemed relieved to see you in the room he quickly sat opposite you but sat in silence as you read another page from a book you had found in your room. “Can I help you?” you asked as it seemed he was never going to cut to the chase 

“Oh- um yes.” he started clearly not accepting you to say anything “I just thought we could talk about-” he began

“Us being soulmates? What is there to talk about, you clearly don't want this,” you responded wanting this awkward conversation to be done already

“It’s not- I mean I guess.” Keith stuttered from the bluntness of your words “I just don’t have the time” he reiterated his earlier words

“Time doesn't stop for anyone, but I get it. It’s a time of war and you're right at the centre of it” is all you said getting up from your seat and leaving the room leaving no room for argument. 

On the third day, you were told it was your final, a rebel ship would be coming to pick you up that day. You quickly gathered any belongings you had while thanking Allura for her hospitality it was only when she left you in the hanging dock that Keith came running in

“I was thinking about what you said” He began “It’s not that I don't want this, because I think I do but I also don’t want to put you in danger” he admitted “But I also don’t want you to go and this be it”       

“Time isn't going to stop for us” you reminded him

“I know,” he confessed. “That’s why I want to make time for us. If you would like that”

“I would.”

[alohaasaloevera]

KL post-canon sorta fwb/situationship AU where they rile each other up!!!!!!1!1!!1!

—

Lance is so fucking annoying. Keith has decided that his mindset from when he was 18 (and sexually confused—actually, maybe just repressed?) is now superior.

Keith hates how Lance flirts with anything that even remotely looks like a woman. He hates how he jokes around too much. He hates how extensive his skin routine is. He hates how he can’t decide whether he wants to punch Lance or kiss him senseless every single time he wiggles his eyebrows as an attempt to flirt or recites a crappy one-liner at him.

His Things I Hate About Lance list is about to be updated, because they’re at yet another diplomatic party on earth (which is actually more of a “celebrating the fact that the universe didn’t get destroyed” party) and Lance is wearing a navy blue button-down shirt which is very much accentuating his muscles, and it’s causing his brain to malfunction. I guess the constant labor at the farm paid off, Keith thinks.

He’s also flirting with a lady who also seems to be extremely appreciative of Lance’s outfit choice. They look like they’re about to decimate each other in the middle of the room with how their eyes are focused solely on the other. Lance’s eyes flick over to him for a second before he just smirks at Keith—the smug fuck—then he focuses back on the girl in front of him before settling his hand on her hip and leaning closer, his voice a hushed whisper against the shell of her ear.

Keith just rolls his eyes. Not that he cares about who Lance sleeps with anyways.

“You’re drooling.” Shiro says, which earns him a moderately hard slap from Keith on his non-prosthetic arm. “You look mad, too.”

“Shut up.” Keith grumbles, because apparently his 14 year old self’s attitude is now the best way to go, “Go away.”

“Jeez, looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

“I said, shut it! Or else telling Adam you made out with Curtis.”

“Please, they’re probably making out with each other as of this moment.”

“Gross!”

“What are you, 12?”

Keith does not go ahead and answer that question, mostly because he doesn’t want to admit that he’s acting more and more immature as the seconds that he stares at Lance and the woman go by.

Shiro, who has been a spectator of Keith pining over the Red Paladin since the early days of Voltron, sighs, before ruffling Keith’s hair, “Please just try and talk out whatever this weird sexual tension between you and him is. For me, please? I’ve already constructed a customized shovel talk for him if you ever do get with him, and let’s just say updating it over the years—”

“Alright, alright! I’ll do it!”

“Thanks, child.”

“Child? Is that what we’re doing now?”

“Just go!”

—

Keith, both fortunately and unfortunately, does not get to talk to Lance until after the party. He walks around the ballroom, and multiple people tell him Lance was last seen walking out eagerly with a girl, so he waits until the next day to talk to him.

What feels unsettling is that how most of the people who let him know about where Lance has gone were talking in an almost…disappointed manner; like they had expected better from him. Which is ridiculous, because for starters, Lance doesn’t need to be all serious and on guard all of the time, especially since they’re celebrating the fact that they had won the war—in fact, it would be out of character for Loverboy Lance to not flirt with at least one person at a party. Secondly, Lance is basically still a kid. Sure, he’s been through some stuff, but he’s still 20 years old. He wouldn’t even have graduated college by now!

Keith gets that they are the Paladins of Voltron, and their duty is to protect the universe, but sometimes the expectations people have for them make them look like flawless, error-free machines who never make mistakes or miss a beat, when it’s far from that. They’re human too. They mess up plans like half the time (maybe not half, but you get the point)!

When he’s walking to Lance’s house—somewhere about a 5 minute walk away from the city and a 10 minute walk from his own house—he stops in his tracks.

What is he even going to say to him?

He can’t be flat-out, outright straightforward with Lance and say, “Oh, I’m kinda in love with you, and have been for the past 5 or so years, so could we stop this friends-with-benefits situationship we have going on and just cut to the real deal?”, but he also can’t be too vague with it.

Though, if there’s anything that Voltron has taught him, one of the things would be, without a doubt, is that you always have to be prepared to improvise.

He knocks on the cold wood, and just when Keith is about to reconsider even coming here, the door opens.

—

In the course of 5 seconds, Keith goes from knocking on a door to being slammed against that same door. Not that he’s going to complain.

“Sorry—” Lance manages in between kisses, “—about—” a kiss on his forehead, “—yesterday.” He kisses Keith gently on the lips, adding more pressure when the smaller’s arms come to wrap around his neck.

Just as Keith relaxes, he breaks the kiss, genuinely confused, “Wait, what?”

“It’s just that you seemed genuinely sad when I was flirting with her, and—” Lance attempts to explain, only for Keith to cut him off.

“Hey, don’t apologize to me for that.” Keith protests. “I was just jealous that you looked fucking amazing in that dress shirt and she was the one who got to have you. Besides, we aren’t exclusive.”

He expects Lance to loosen up—maybe brag about how he wooed Keith with his dazzling looks, but he sure as Zarkon and Honerva themselves does not expect him say this:

“But what if I want to be exclusive?”

Keith’s heart catches in his throat, eyes widening like saucers, “What?”

“I said,” Lance looks straight at Keith, his gaze piercing,

“What if I want to be exclusive?”

Oh, fuck.

[shadowwolflady]

Shiro Headcanons

First and foremost,

Shiro is a WARRIOR. He does not simply LEAVE the battle field. I REFUSE to believe he simply accepted his civilian role.

He HAS to be put back into action. Even if that means commanding voltron or piloting black. Domestic life does NOT suit him.

Look at his Garrison days, he was constantly pushing limits and himself. I refuse to believe he will just STOP. I refuse to believe he just accepts things so easily, especially things he can change.

As much as I love that he wound up with Curtis, I don't think it will last. It was a trauma bond. Curtis is a rando imo. We don't know a lot about Curtis either, which makes this tougher.

Shiro is going to go through immense withdrawals and PTSD. He needs a crap ton of help and support.

Ptsd is trying and breaks relationships. I have seen it. It is not fun. It changes people, it makes them not who they were.

Okay. Rant over.

General

• Dad and big brother energy

• Semi smart jock energy.

• Protective of his family

• Willing to throw down for his family

• Will resort to violence when pushed.

• Will not be the one to throw the first punch, honorable for the other to throw the first blow.

• He is not above pulling someone away from an argument.

• He has picked someone up and moved them away from a confrontation so he didn't have to deal with the fighting.

• Tries to think through things logically first before going head long into the fray.

• Believes in his team and their capabilities. He knows their strengths and weaknesses and nurtures them.

• Knocks nonsense off. But will enjoy fun when he can.

• After Hunk, he is the best hugger. Despite not hugging alot. He actually likes hugs.

• Likes naps.

• Will nap in the lobby, close to the action, if it is quiet.

• Rarely uses rank as an argue point, he likes to have the opinion of his whole team.

• Will gladly lend an ear to anyone. But rarely has anyone lend an ear to him.

• Always likes to push the limits. He tests the line in an irritating way.

• He sets the routine for the group.

• Leads by doing.

• A bit of a bookworm. Can be caught reading if not looking up things.

• Has fallen asleep with a book on his face.

• He likes cats and dogs. In that order.

• He is the embodiment of Air.

• Scars on his skin are the victories he won. He is a little self conscious about them.

• His first and main love is the stars. His second is being a pilot.

• How he got into the Garrison was because he wanted to explore and push the boundaries of a human. Go further, farther, and faster.

Food

• Can cook a bit, nothing fancy.

• Doesn't like sweets

• Prefers coffee or tea over soda.

• Water.

• Likes savory.

• Can handle some spice.

• Drinks occasionally.

Hygiene

• Showers at night

• Toothpaste and mouthwash

Fighting

• Hand to hand

• Uses his arm as a weapon

• He is more of a brute force fighter vs stealth.

Prosthetic

• Self conscious about his arm.

• Doesn't like that he can't feel temp through his arm.

• Misses the feeling texture through it.

• Stares at it at night while he lays on his back in bed.

• On more than one occasion, pidge has asked to look over his arm. She has plugged it into her computer and tinkered with it, making adjustments for him.

Routine

• Wakes up at 530 for the day.

• Gets dressed.

• Warms up and works out before breakfast.

• Trains every 6 days. One day of rest. Even if it is just for 20 minutes.

• The others started to follow his routine. While he would spend time practicing, the others would do their own thing.

• If he can't sleep, he lays in bed and stares at the ceiling until he gets himself up and out of bed. He will wander around the castle, usually finding himself in the Bridge.

• He will sit and watch the stars or fiddle in his chair with the data on his computer.

• He likes looking at the star chart in the bridge.

• Sometimes he finds himself in the training room. He will meditate or just sit there quietly. Sometimes he will put on the practice bot.

• Sometimes he will head to the hangar and sit in front of Black or in the cockpit. It's his place to think and unwind.

• He rarely likes to sleep due to night terrors. But he will nap.

PTSD and Trauma

• He has scars he isn't proud of.

• He thrashes at night and has put holes and dents in walls.

• He has cried out at night.

Hope you enjoyed some of the headcanons I have for Shiro.

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

I finally did it yall I made a list of my favorite Cartmanisms bc I do in fact very much enjoy writing his out of pocket ass

“Oh speaking of,” Cartman added, “let’s just sacrifice the Insulin Bitch and the brain damaged hippie to the zaliens so the rest of us can make a run for it.”

Eric was scowling. “Only I’M allowed to make comments about you two gayasses. I say we wipe the floor with those homophobes.”

“I doubt they’ll have a vest in your size, Thumbulimia.”

“Please, I have better things to do than watch the Jew have a Post Traumatic Spider Disorder episode.”

Cartman rolled his eyes, but got up to drop a five in the Fuckwad Jar. “I hate you guys, seriously. Marj, you weren’t even in the room for the Nancy joke.” The lace trim of his robe fluttered as he sat back down, which made Stan laugh again. “What’s so funny, hippie?” There weren’t really words, honestly, but he’d try. “I just… I never want us to change, you know?” “Gay.”

Eric sung a few lines of ‘Jesus Loves The Little Children’ in a creepy horror movie voice and then sprung out from his hiding spot and started blasting on an unsuspecting youth who got too close, chasing him down the field with rarely shown athleticism.

Cartman looked incredibly bored as he clicked the magazine and snapped it back into place. “Well fuck me for being prepared.”

Cartman scoffed. “He’s not doing anything but staring up at you like he’s Sleeping Goddamn Beauty and you just kissed him out of a coma.”

“Awww, looook, you guys! They’re having a gay little hurt/comfort moment again! What, you gonna kiss it better, Kahl?”

Cartman just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “What the hell ever, Jimothy. Go stutter about it to someone else.”

“Okay, fucking first of all,” Kyle shot a glare at Cartman, “no one’s getting sacrificed. Literally, that’s not goddamn happening. AND we’re keeping this discussion CIVIL. It’s five in the morning and nobody’s slept very much. There’s not a single guy here who’s actually thinking straight.” “That would be because half of you are gay as balls.”

“Once again, I’m moving that we leave the hippie behind.” “Cartman, remind me to kick your ass when we’re out of here.” “Good luck on that if you fucking faint like one of those stupid goats again.”

Cartman was out of bullets, but he’d taken out a good chunk of the extraterrestrial undead. “Holy shit, Kahl, you better not die on us. Cockroach, remember? You’re a damn cockroach.”

“Aight, so anyway, what’s JewBot up to?” “Still at work. He’ll be home later. We’re gonna go out to dinner with the Tuckers.” “I didn’t ask for your life’s story, buttplug,”

“Oh JESUS CHRIST!!” Oh, great. Cartman had emerged from his cave. “Did I just walk into a stairwell orgy?”

“Fuck you, Kahl. Your recycled dildo and his weirdo wingman pulled me out of a Klance slowburn.” “WHO the FUCK is reading Voltron fanfiction in 2023?!” “Some of us are dedicated.”

Eric paused his self imposed quest to rob every taco truck in GTA and set aside his controller. “Hellllll no. The vampires don’t get my blood without paying me for it.”

“Geez, pack it up, Fiddler On The Roof.”

“Fatass, if he dies in a car accident because YOU made him freak, I WILL kill you.” “Good luck doing that with one leg and a fever, fleshlight.” But his voice softened. “Just try to chill out until he gets home, Kahl. Then you can be a terrible patient for someone who actually likes you.”

“Yeah, hippie. I wasn’t going to deal with you if something happened to your burning bush.”

A certain abrasive fuckwad leaned casually against the wall. “Oh, the Bubonic Jew didn’t tell you yet? I said he fell on the stairs, didn’t I? He just hurt his knee again, what else is new.” Stan made a noise of surprise and Cartman pointed his beef jerky at him. “By the way, I really don’t get why you get so stoked about lugging him around. He’s difficult.”

Cartman scurried off to inspect a leaf. “Woah, you guys! I think I just, like, discovered empathy!” “You’re looking at a plant.” “Plants have feelings too, Khal! Look at your photosynthesizing dildo back there!”

“Like he needs an excuse to get on his high horse about shit.” “I’ll kick your fat ass,” Kyle warned. “Good luck, tinkerbell.”

Cartman had planted himself into the passenger seat, munching away at that bag of funyuns. He glanced back. “What’s the ‘sitch, Ken-Possible?”

“Because, you pussy,” Cartman said with a false saccharine smile, “you have the biggest TikTok following from your gayass little songs.

“Yep.” Cartman said through a mouthful of eggs. “Plus, Clyde has an affair going with the town vet, Butters is a total twink, and Stanny boy has a boner for the Jew.”

Oh dear god. Cartman was NOT about to babysit the argumentative dickhole while the housekeeper worked. As much fun as he was to fight with, Kyle was a fierce opponent, and Cartman wasn’t really in the mood. He’d had a weird night. The cats had been on edge.

Oh, of goddamn course. The OTHER buttplug. It wasn’t a secret. Well, technically it was, because no one talked about it, but anyone with eyeballs could see that Stan and Kyle had a gayass little private relationship going on behind Craig’s back. Good for them, or whatever, but if the Spider ever got proof…

Cartman just rolled his eyes. “Scott, you glucose gobbling ass bitch, I’ve literally butchered two people. I know the human body, okay?”

“The fuck.” Cartman’s eyes widened. “Every single one of you dildos had better be praying that there’s no internal bleeding.”

Cartman put his hands up. “Gahdamn, you guys. Just trying to lighten the mood in this hot air balloon to Hell.”

“Ay! Hippie! The Jew had to stay for basketball so I’m here with your buttfucking homework-“

Cartman definitely wanted to rip on him for wallowing in his own sadness, but the sooner he got this loser to be a person again, the better. “No shit, asshole. Your fucking fleshlight is even more intolerable without you to hold him back. You need to come back to school.”

“Also, I’m telling your little prince of Egypt that he can come over. It’s not like he’s gonna catch your Sad Bitch Disease.”

Cartman strolled around the corner, now wearing his frilly ‘widow whose husband died under mysterious circumstances’ robe.

[soulreapin]

fair warning, this gets kinda heavy.

tldr: keith bends and bends underneath the weight of everything, and finally, he cracks.

this was really cathartic for me to write, so even if you read it here give it a kudos on ao3 just for me.

—

Keith’s mouth tastes like rubbed-away Carmex and ash.

He’s doing okay for himself, on the castle of lions, he goes and he dons his suit and he does his job and he fights with Lance and then he comes “home” and peels his suit off piece by piece and stands underneath the shower with bad water pressure until his skin turns pink and his joints stop clicking together as he walks and then he goes to bed, just to do it all again. Keith says he is doing okay for himself to the people he saves every single day, to the people he lives with every single day, but he doesn’t say it to himself.

To himself, he’s drowning. The words to what he’s feeling warp in his throat and feel caught in a web, choking him out until he can’t breathe. He is floating on the surface of something horrid, and his palm slaps on the surface of the water but there’s nothing for his desperate fingers to cling on to, so Keith slips.

With every day he slips, back and back and back until the stitches holding him together strained against the weight. Then Keith hauls himself forwards, and forwards a little more until there is just enough lessened on the stitches for him to keep going, just a little longer.

It doesn’t feel like anything anymore. The butt of a blaster slammed into his chin three days ago, and his jaw popped out of its place for just a moment on his left side and sometimes he can’t touch those back teeth together, but that doesn’t feel like anything. He took nine space tylenol and called it a day.

Most nights after he gets three horrible hours of sleep, Keith sits on the bow of the ship. He doesn’t know why the bow is so comfortable, but he did know that if he closed his eyes and drifted out far enough, sometimes the rock of the ship felt like the simulator deck at the Galaxy Garrison. He spent hours out there, even when classes had ended. Shiro slipped him into the sim and made him promise not to cause too many problems.

He’s there right now, staring at the empty, pin-pricked abyss that the castle lingered in. The galaxy they’re floating through is close to Olkari, but not close enough to patch through a call.

Keith, at four in the morning, is completely alone out here. No one on his team likes him, his lion is working against him, his bayard wouldn’t get fucking going this morning and cost them precious seconds that could’ve been used to save lives, and his belt loop got stuck on the door.

Nothing else bothered him, he shook off the dislike and let his lion roll of his back like water, Keith made up for his bayard by racing the clock and getting a group of younglings out of a tight spot, but his belt loop yanking on the door handle and keeping him trapped in the doorway of his room was the final straw. He took dinner in his room, because if Lance even looked at him with his stupidly cute face and surprisingly thoughtful words, Keith would start to sob like a child and he cannot have that.

So he sits on the bow.

The bow is quiet, there’s nothing on the bow but him and the built in chairs and the endless, expansive stars.

Keith sighs, a whistle through his throat, and starts to absentmindedly comb his tired fingers through his hair. It sat in a ponytail lately, so he could better wedge his helmet over it, and there was a noticeable dent in his hair from how little time he had to wash it and how often he wore it like that.

Silence envelops him for just a few more minutes before he hears the soft woosh of the automated door open and close. Almost immediately, fight or flight gripping him tight and refusing to let go of him. Keith turns his head and grips his knife, the flat of the blade pressed to his forearm, and watches as Lance edges into the bridge, holding onto a pillow.

Oh.

Fight puts its knife down and flight folds in its wings. Keith lowers his blade and lets it clatter loudly onto the floor, lest Lance assume he’s alone on the bow. Lance looks around wildly for just a second until he sees Keith sitting in front of Red’s chair and relaxes, nodding almost to himself and trudging to the very front of the bow, right in front of the glass.

He watches Lance as he drops his pillow on the floor and tucks his forearms beneath it, turning his chin towards the stars and saying nothing.

But Keith can’t sit in silence like this. He feels like he’s been ripped into a storm and thrown around and around until his head is barely hanging on, so Keith delicately clears his throat and says, “You’re up late.”

“Et tu, Brute?” Lance responds groggily,

Keith laughs slightly, a short bark that comes out a little drier than he intended. “Couldn’t….couldn’t sleep.”

Lance shifts a little so his head is turned to Keith instead of the stars. “Yeah, me too. I didn’t think you came out here. Training deck finally handed you an eviction notice?”

“I like it here.” Keith says defensively; what could he possibly be defending?

��Relax, Red, not here to give you the third degree.” Lance’s eyes slide from open to closed a few times, like he’s fighting sleep.

He doesn’t respond to that, but pulls his knees into his chest and loosely wraps his arms around them, bony kneecaps digging into his collarbone. Keith watches Lance acutely like a predator as this boy, this friend who he flew alongside every day and ate next to and slept in the same hallway as buried his face into the pillow he’d brought with him and his breathing starts to even out.

It comes on like a cold.

Keith sniffs once and coughs and just like that, warm tears bead up in his lower lashline and trickle down his face, bouncing from small freckle to smaller scar and then dripping onto his hand. Slowly, Lance’s head inches upwards, peering at Keith in the low, blue light. His words rattle out of him, “Do you want to talk about it?”

No. Yes. He’d rather kill himself. He’s going to kill himself if he doesn’t. Keith forces all of this down and clears his throat, wiping the tears away from his eyes and coughs again, “I think so. I shouldn’t.”

“You can. If you want. I’ll listen, Keith.” Lance’s voice is low and careful, treating Keith like a scared lioness kept in captivity, and he didn’t mind it.

Keith. It’s always Red, or Mullet, or Rascal Flatts. Never Keith.

He swallows, and trudging every goddamn step of the godforsaken way, Keith tries to articulate what holds him down, night and day.

“I just. I don’t know. I feel like I’m struggling.” He speaks up to the ceiling. “It feels like its climbing up my throat, almost, and I am struggling to keep going with it. I do, I get up every day and do what I have to do as the red paladin, but as Keith Kogane, I am trying so fucking hard, and I cannot keep going like this. I’m going to break and I am fucking scared of it.”

Lance makes a soft, neutral noise.

“And nobody, nobody likes me, I know it, not even you and you’re like, the light of freedom and friendship in this dark fucking hellhole, and I keep failing everything and I want to give up. But if I give up,” Keith pauses very briefly to clear his throat again, because he’s going to sob if he doesn’t, “If I give up, then I’m going to doom the entire universe.”

“That’s..a lot for just one kid.” Lance sounds…worried. “How do you…do it?”

Keith knots his fingers in his hair. A nervous habit. “I just. Do. I guess. Shove it so far down I can’t even think about it and then just keep going, because if I stop, then I’m going to drown.”

“That must have been a lot for you.” Lance says reassuringly, getting up slowly and making his way towards Keith, slumping down against the chair and looking out at the stars right in front of him. “I’m sorry that we put that pressure on you.”

“We–” Keith’s head snaps over to Lance, tracing over the curve of his nose. “Shit. God, this has all happened to you and I’m the only one that’s responding like this because I can’t fucking take it. It’s not fair to you that I’m such a goddamn wreck about it when everyone else has just…figured it out. “

The laugh that spills out of Lance sounds wet. “You think we’ve…figured it out? Keith, we’re all fucking struggling through this together. We’re all hurting.”

Keith presses his lips together and swallows the hurting sob that bangs against his teeth to be let out.

“We thought you’d talk to someone. Shiro, maybe. Keith, you can’t hurt on your own forever. It’ll eat you alive and then chew on the bones until those are gone, too.” Lance’s hand rests on Keith’s elbow, and Keith doesn’t yank it away. He finds a little bit of comfort in the warmth of those fiddler’s fingers.

“You don't know that.” Keith bites out, his fingers digging into his knee.

Lance, to his credit, sighs thoughtfully. “I do. I absolutely do because I lived it. The Garrison was…misery reincarnated. No one liked me. I was almost entirely alone, even with Hunk and Pidge. But I kept moving, every single day until I snapped and started crying in Shiro’s office because he was nice.”

“I remember that day. Shiro came home all emotional because one of his students had trusted him with something so important. Figures it was you.” Keith laughs gently as he recalls the smile on Shiro’s face as he moved around the house making dinner that night.

“Yeah, that was me. I started talking to Veronica after that whenever I could. She got her doctorate in psychiatry and became a therapist, did you know that? I’m so fucking proud of her.” Lance’s voice shifts and it sounds blurry when he brings up his pride in his older sister.

It pulls at some loose string in his soul. Keith’s free hand reaches over and rests gently over the one sitting on his elbow. “She knows. I promise you, she knows that you are proud of her. Even all the way out here.”

“I’m glad you think so, Keith.” Lance looks over at him with a wet shine in his eyes and a weak, fond smile pulling at his lips.

They’re hurt together.

Keith cannot be fixed with just one conversation and a hand on his elbow.

Lance’s longing for his family cannot be mended with a glance at the stars and a hand on top of his.

But while they hurt together, they can start to heal intertwined.

—

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53325874

[midnighmoonligh]

❀•°•═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════•°•❀

Fandom

Voltron Legendary Defender

❀•°•═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════•°•❀

Character/s

Keith ; 21 ; He/They ; Little

Lance ; 18 ; He/Him ; Cg

❀•°•═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════•°•❀

⚠Content Warning⚠

Themes of War, general Voltron things. Probably cursing.

❀•°•═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════•°•❀

Plot Summary

Despite not being out of headspace fully, Keith is thrown into combat. He does his best, but the mission goes wrong. He blames himself while Lance panics over loosing Keith.

❀•°•═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════•°•❀

Keith had began to run down the hallway to his lion. Lance tried his best to pull him out of little space, however he was scared he still was too close to the headspace to be in this battle. He wished he could have someone else fly the red lion, but currently he couldn't. He had to just pray and think big thoughts. That's normally what worked for him. He slid down the slide right into red. The seat pulled into place and everything began to light up. The second the lion rawred he took off. He quickly caught up with the rest of the team, listening to them, mostly Shiro, scold him for taking so long.

" You took forever Keith! What's wrong with you? "

" Nothing, I'm just a little sick is all, " Keith gave the excuse quickly as he took off towards the battle.

" That's not a reasonable excuse Keith, we are at war, " Allura proceeded to scold the smaller.

He felt so close to tears. His eyes were starting to burn. He felt like every time he came onto the field that everything he did was just a huge mess up. He nodded slowly before focusing onto the fight. The more Keith had the more his mind forgot about what was upsetting him. The team formed voltron and continued to fight. He felt like he was in the clear of his little space until the team had been hit hard. The power of the castle had gone out and even voltron broke apart and the lions went offline. Most of the team was knocked out.

***

Keith was the first to wake up. He slowly blinked his eyes open and watched ress lights flickered on. He looked over to the castle that now had power again. His eyes scanned over to the other lions. He was panicking. This is his fault, isn't it? He was late, he rarely went to team training, he always ran away from meetings, he barely was even close to the rest of the team. Wow, this really was his fault. He took off his helmet as tears fell from his eyes. He couldn't help but start to cry as he was yanked right into little space.

He tried to get the teams attention, yelling and screaming, but eventually gave up. None of the other lions had turned on, so he figured their pilots are still out cold. The fleet that had attacked them were long gone by now. He hoped everyone was okay. He tried to make a private channel with Lance, and the blue lion. He tried over and over until suddenly the blue lion turned on and it connected. His eyes lit up, though he couldn't help but cry at seeing the barely conscious Lance. At least he is okay, that is all he could ever ask for.

" Daddy? " he cried.

" Please.. " he whimpered and pulled his legs up to his chest, hugging them close.

He buried his face into his knees and cried. His body trembling from how much he was crying. He just wanted this to be over. He wanted to go back to bed and curl up and sleep forever.

The intercoms crackled and popped. Static filled Keith's ears, but it only made him slip further. He felt so scared. He failed, didn't he? He failed as a paladin. He wasn't sure why he thought he could do this with his strange younger headspace, let alone being so close to it like he was. 

" Keith?? Baby?" 

The little jumped slightly at the voice he craved so much. He looked around before seeing Lance's face pop up on the fuzzy screen in front of him. Keith sobbed and made grabby hands towards Lance, watching as the taller cried back. He wasn't sure if either of them were crying from relief, or from worry. 

" Baby! Are you okay?? Can you take red back to the castle?" 

Keith shook his head and hiccuped fairly hard. He didn't think he was in a big enough headspace to take red back to the castle. He watched Lance nod and think with this panicked expression. It was all his fault he was like this, he knew that. He couldn't shake the thoughts going through his head either. He couldn't stop blaming himself. Then again, if he had acted his own age this wouldn't have been an issue. Voltron wouldn't have failed if it weren't for him. 

" Can you ask red to take you back?" Lance suggested. 

He hadn't thought about that. He sniffled and wiped his face with his arms. He hiccuped and shifted in his seat, sitting more properly now. 

" That's it little one, I'll be right here. " 

He nodded and closed his eyes. He focused on his connection with red, then asked if she could take him home. It wasn't difficult. He heard her purr soothingly towards him, calming him down in a way he wasn't sure why it worked. Maybe because his mother was able to purr? Actually, Keith wasn't even sure how he remembered that either. He opened his eyes and watched as Red took them both back to the castle. 

" I'll be there as soon as I can bubs, I promise," Lance reassured. 

Keith nodded more, hiccuping, though calmer. He curled up in his seat, watching as the image of Lance faded away. He wanted him back. He felt safer being able to hear him there. It made him so happy. He buried his face into his knees, listening as the lion purred in a parental way towards him. He could feel shifts and movements as Red took them back, but none was enough for him to lift his head from his spot.

-

The second blue landed Lance darted from the lion and down the hallways. His shoes slid across the cleaned floors, tripping him a few times. He darted by Hunk and Pidge, not even giving them a glance or returning the greetings that they offered. There wasn't a point. He was too distracted with the safety of his little. Well, they weren't really official. More babysitter title for Lance, but it didn't matter. He loved that he had a little again. He missed it so much, like a craving to hold and care for someone. He knew it had gotten bad when he tried to care for the other paladins and got these strange looks in response to it. He scanned his hand and watched the doors slide open to the large room that the red lion was kept in. He rushed himself to the lion, through its mouth and into it. 

" Keith!?" he shouted as he looked around

He yelped as Keith jumped onto him, startling him more than anything. He chuckled and pulled the little up into his arms. He tucked his forearms under Keith and held him against him. He pressed him close to him and squeezed him into his arms. The smaller paladin trembled against him, crying freely and fairly loudly. It broke his heart. He knew he couldn't bring Keith into the hallways like this. It would be impossible to sneak him past the others. He sat down against a wall, gently rocking the smaller back and forth in his arms. He paused after some time and ran his fingers through Keith's messy and long hair. 

" It's okay bubs, I'm here now," he whispered quietly to him. 

Keith nodded, burying his face into Lance's chest more, but he didn't mind it at all. Lance held him closer, tightly. The pressure seemed to work for Keith and help him. He rubbed his back with one hand, his other arm wrapped around Keith's waist and holding him close. He cried and cried, not that Lance could ever blame the little for crying so much. He is scared, he knew that much. He wrapped his arms fully back around him and rested his head on his shoulder. 

" You're safe now, with me, I promise," he reassured. 

He was trying his best, though he knew the others would be looking for the, normally, chaotic pair soon. It was something he was worried about, and that rushed him to calm Keith down. He just hoped he was able to calm him before the rest of the team found them.

-

Keith felt so terrified. The type if terrified that they didn't know what to do besides crying. He had gotten so scared to the point he thought he really did loose Lance, or the team. He shook and clung to Lance, but the more he cried the more sleepy he felt. A mission is a lot for a little already, and getting beaten as they had didn't help. He slowly was calming down, the need to sleep overpowering his need to sit there and cry until he passed out. Though, it felt like a very good option to the little. It really was not as uncommon as most would think for him to cry himself to sleep. Most nights, it's how he did sleep.

" It's okay baby boy, just get some rest, " Lance would whisper, which didn't help.

His back rubs, soft words, and overly amazing cuddles were so comforting. He's so good at this and, honestly, he kinda hated him for it. Of all people who found out about his regression, why did it have to be this sharp shooting idiot. Keith just buried his face into his chest and curled up. As he began to doze off, Lance carefully scooped him up and carried him on his hip, though he kept his arms tightly wrapped around him to keep him feeling safe. Keith really appreciated it, more than he could really explain even in big space.

He could hear the teams shouting and yelling bouncing around in the halls as the castle was attacked. He truly hoped it wut be okay, though it probably would be. It normally was, right? Lance brought Keith to the mullet heads room and set him down on to the bed. Apart of the little wished he had some sort of little gear, even a stuffed animal would help him truthfully.

" Stay right here, okay? Change too while I'm away baby. I'm gonna get some things for you, " Lance explained, leaving a small kiss on his head before scrambling out of the room.

Keith sat there pouting and sniffling, half asleep too. He tried to get his armor off, but it didn't end well. He was able to get the arms off, but almost fell off the bed trying to get the legs off. He smacked his arm on the bed frame trying to get the chest piece off. So he just sat there and quietly cried until Lance came back. It made him happy to see him back too. The blue paladin looked stressed and worried that something happened, but Keith just gave a hug.

" Helps, pease? " he asked quietly, getting a hesitant Lance nod in response.

As Lance helped with the armor, he looked to see what the taller had brought. It was some clothes to change into, his blanket from his bed, and some sort of strange cow looking thing. It looked soft and squishy, but the little one kept his hands to himself. Lance helped him get dressed and get under the covers before offering the strange cow thing. Keith took it, of course, but he's confused by it.

" It's a cow stuffie. I don't normally use her, so you can, " Lance elaborated with his usual dumb lopsided smile that Keith hated how much he loved.

He nodded and cuddled the stuffie close while Lance went to go change in the bathroom. He sniffled and is surprised that his guess on how soft it was is right. It is a lot more squishy than what he had thought too. He smiled to himself and curled up under the covers, now having two blankets on the bed. It's so warm and toasty, he loves it. When Lance came back, he laid down and cuddled Keith. The little didn't protest, rather, he curled up against the taller males chest. It wasn't even ten minutes before Keith fell asleep there, the soft sound of Lance's humming sending him straight to sleep with his new cow friend in his arms.

[silentwillowwhisperer]

Day 7- Scars

Ok I got this, just keep it short.

Tw: brief mention of electrocution.

————————————————-

Keith’s scars make Lance feel a lot of emotions at once.

Of course he’s proud of his boyfriend. Who wouldn’t be?

He just gets worried sometimes.

Or not worried, protective. Yes, there is a difference.

It hurts to see Keith go on blade missions and have more scars every time he visits Voltron.

Keith will change his clothing to go to sleep, and the short sleeves of his pajamas will reveal a dozen more cuts and gashes along his arms.

Lance wants nothing more than to murder anyone who would dare lay a hand on his man.

Keith always assured him that he’s alright, that the cuts have been treated and will scab over soon. He still lets Lance bandage them anyway even if it means his butt will go numb from sitting on the lid of their toilet too long.

There’s ones that Lance doesn’t mind, the ones that look ordinary. Those ones Keith would have gotten even if they weren’t soldiers. For example, the weird fishhook-shaped line of raised skin on Keith’s knuckle from where he nicked himself with his own knife trying to do a fancy trick.

Those kinds of scars remind Lance that Keith is a dorky idiot. (The knife trick had been Keith’s attempt to impress Lance, instead it had just gotten him scolded and babied for the rest of the day.)

And then there’s others that prove just how humanly fragile Keith is.

Like the one that wraps around Keith’s forearm like a bracelet. It’s from one of the times Keith got captured. An electric cuff had been fastened to his wrist, and his team got him out just in time to save him from death by electrocution.

Or the one that goes across his throat from where knife had been held to it way too hard.

And the fact that Keith’s nose is slightly crooked thanks to a nasty fracture (even if Lance finds the imperfection a bit endearing).

He has a weak wrist that will flare up if used to much, but instead of stopping to get help, the ambidextrous lunatic will just switch to his left hand and keep on fighting.

Lance has scars of his own of course, but they’re not like Keith’s. Lance gets his from genuine danger, he gets completely on accident. Keith gets his being reckless. He’ll power through a battle and ignore the wounds he’s getting. He takes the hit for others so often that wonders if these people are actually trained to fight. He would not be surprised, seeing as Voltron is made up of 4 basically-teenagers and a guy in his twenties.

Is it too much to ask that he wants his boyfriend to be kept safe?

They have arguments about this occasionally, but they both understand where the other is coming from all too well. They’d rather focus on ending this war faster that starting one between themselves.

So Lance has to be content in checking Keith over for the new scars and tending to the unhealed ones. When they lie down together, Lance traces the scars under Keith’s shirt until they both fall asleep.

Keith’s scars do bring him a sense of familiarity and routine that he doesn’t find anywhere else in the endless void of space.

And until the war is over, that has to be enough.

———————————-

I’m done! My allergies are trying to kill me, but I did it!

Also, why is the word ‘crooked’ so close to ‘cooked?’ I almost made a really weird typo.

[autisticlancemcclain]

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

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

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

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

1. Pidge

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

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

Here we go.

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

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

“It’s Pidge.”

“Is she okay? Does she need Voltron?”

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

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

“You need my help?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lance, whipped as he is, does not protest.

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

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

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

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

Lance grins. “He is.”

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

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

“Pidge okay?” he asks softly.

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

Lance laughs quietly. Sounds like Pidge.

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

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

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

They’ll get there.

2. Hunk

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

But Lance knows better.

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

He figured that might happen.

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, Hunk. You okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t want to put you out —“

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

“…Okay.”

Keith hangs up, and looks apologetically at Lance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s sure they’ll need them.

3. Romelle

The ring of the doorbell makes them both panic.

“Is that the social worker?”

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

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Can we ignore it?”

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

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

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

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

But he always appreciates Keith’s hands on him.

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

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

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

Lance nods, squeezing Keith’s hand.

They’ve got this.

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

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

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

“Romelle? What are you doing here?”

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

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

Lance sighs fondly, shaking his head.

He should have known.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright, thanks. Bye.”

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

“Everything okay?”

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

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

“Oh, thank God.”

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

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

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

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

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

Keith exhales, pressing his forehead to Lance’s.

“Okay. Thank you, Lance. I love you.”

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

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

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

Keith scowls. “Whatever. Technically.”

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

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

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

Intermission

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” Mason says eventually.

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

Mason blinks, surprised. “Me and Keevah?”

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

(Yet.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lance sniffles, nodding. “Good point.”

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

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

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

“I know. I trust you.”

4. Allura

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lance squeezes tightly, happy to lend it.

“What happened?”

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

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

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

There’s a pause.

“…Pardon?”

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

This time the pause is much longer.

Guiltier.

“I don’t want to burden them.”

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

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

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

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

Keith gleefully ignores him, bolstering right on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Love you too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lance gasps loudly, clutching the bicep dramatically.

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

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

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

5. Sylvio

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why is he calling me?”

Lance shrugs. “I don’t know.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll be here.”

+1. Keith

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

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

“Hi, sweetheart.”

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

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

“I’ll grab some tea,” Keith murmurs.

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

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

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

Lance rubs his shoulder. “What happened?”

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

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

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

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

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

It’s been an ongoing problem.

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

Sylvio bites his lip. Keith shakes his head slightly.

Lance’s face drops. “Oh, Sylvio…”

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

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Let it out.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Fell asleep halfway through her bath.”

“Poor thing.”

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

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

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

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

“…Explain it to me?”

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

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

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

“You are more than you think you are.”

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

“I rely on you.”

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

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

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

Keith is silent.

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

Keith’s chin trembles.

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

His breathing gets heavier. “Lance —”

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

Keith sobs. “Lance, that’s not —”

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

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

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

“And yet.”

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

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

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

[domesantis]

Keith and his Fanny Packs and Boots to bed

disclaimer: first post, extremely new to tumblr. but of course my first post HAD to be voltron-related, and it's about keith and his fanny packs and boots. (A stupid, small analysis)

in S1 E2, in the first minute we see Allura doing an unannounced drill (albeit dramatically) to evaluate the readiness, vigilance and speed of the newly recruited pilots. Other than Shiro, he seems to have the best mastery of these traits as he launches across the room to grab his jacket (Wow. His first instinct. Gotta dive into that sooner or later) then get out one second later.

Many people have pointed out the sheer absurdity and comedy of Keith wearing his fanny packs and boots to bed. How uncomfortable can that be? At conclusion, this scene was boiled down to just a trivial animation mistake and I also think that's all it is. But, out of fun, I want to look deeper into this "mistake" (Although many people have already probably concluded my upcoming analysis and I'm just late to the bandwagon.)

His fanny packs and boots are the solid testament to his life.

In later seasons, we find out that Keith has been practically raising himself throughout his childhood. He had an absent, dead (secretly alive) mother and also a completely dead father. In an optimistic sense, at least his father passed when Keith was 10 (?) years old, having a fragment of paternal love and care despite it being abruptly cut off. Oddly enough, orphanages aren't a thing in his time.

As if being stripped of parental love wasn't cruel enough, he also faced ostracization and bullying throughout his entire childhood without any adult to stand up for him whatsoever. Until around he was 16-17, Shiro saw his potential and eventually developed into his implied father figure. Then Shiro disappeared after a year, leaving him all alone once again.

So, during the timeframes before and after he met Shiro, he was left all alone to fend for himself. He lives in an almost dilapidated, shabby shack in the middle of a desert, naturally leaving security unattended and nonexistent.

Of course, for a child/teenager, this predicament alone would transpire paranoia especially when you're in the middle of nowhere with the imminent anxiety of wild beasts/animals without any nearby protection.

Onto my main point now.

Keith is a teenager that was left to fend for himself all alone. Not only does he have no parents, but also he lives in the middle of nowhere and faces extreme ostracization and bullying. His school is an extremely emotionally and physically unsafe environment for him, and so is his shack. Consequently, he makes it a priority to always keep his guard up everywhere at any time. He isn't familiar with the notion of a "safe space". (Perhaps he only literally experiences that concept when he forms a deep connection with a bunch of other teenagers in outer space. Now that's a safe space. LOL)

His only resort and closest alternative to a "safe space"? His dagger, fanny pack, and boots.

Boots, to immediately escape the grasp of an intruder/emergency;

His fanny pack, presumably with all his survival essentials in it, in case of any emergency;

And his dagger, to defend himself.

All of which are stationed on him.

When you've spent the majority of your life alone with absolutely nobody to depend on, vigilance and paranoia creeps itself onto your daily routine. Most likely, Keith feels naked and vulnerable without them, because these three are his fundamental objects of safety.

So, he learnt readiness, vigilance, and speed not by training, but through cruelty. Of course, even with the reassurance of sleeping in a high-security advanced spaceship, old habits die hard. He'd rather sleep through discomfort rather than face danger.

Last Comments

this would be so good for a klance hurt/comfort fic. just lance slowly easing keith into introducing the possibility of safety and vulnerability coexisting together instead of having to choose between the two. i GOTTA write something like this soon

keith needs a hug bro

[alohaasaloevera]

It’s funny, really, how miserable he is in this situation.

He can’t see blood staining his hands—instead he sees it pouring and pouring and pouring, the viscous liquid piling up into his hands before it overflows, dropping onto the ground like a never ending stream.

He realizes, realizes that Lance has to watch Keith die like this, over and over again for the rest of eternity. The only person that could save him is dead now, and Lance has to look at him bleed out in his arms forever.

It hurts just as bad every single time.

—

Lance wakes up from that horrid, terrifying dream, his heart racing as he takes sharp, staccato breaths. Darkness shrouds the vicinity of his room—It’s warm, to the point that it feels like his skin is on fire. He feels like something is trickling down his nose, so he goes ahead and wipes it with his sleeve and inspects it carefully to see if it’s anything like blood. He can’t see very well, though, so he ends up attempting to get a glass of water in the middle of the night without waking anyone up. All while something is still pouring out from his nostrils.

He turns a light on and walks out, the metal door shutting with a dull, automatic thump. When he enters the living room, he’s shocked to see Keith, and…Griffin? What is James Griffin of all people doing with Keith Kogane in the middle of the night?

The two are on the couch, seemingly doing nothing until he hears a muffled noise come from their direction. He squints harder, and—

Oh. Oh no.

Keith has been dropped into Griffin’s lap and—ok, Lance is officially out!

He is not about to witness one of his closest friends/teammate be intimate with said friend’s TEENAGE BULLY. Lance turns on his heel faster than Voltron himself and attempts to make a break for it when he suddenly feels light headed and soon enough he’s falling to the ground as fast as the drops of his maybe-nosebleed.

—

Lance wakes up in a hospital. Who knows what he’s gotten into now.

The strong, bitter smell of antiseptic and chloroform only further convinces him that he should go back to sleep, but the universe is apparently against him now as a familiar, unsteady voice calls his name. “Lance? Are you awake? Oh thank goodness!” Hunk sighs in relief, a hand on his chest, “We all thought you were dead! Well, not me, because I know you get chronic nosebleeds.”

Oh. That’s what happened. He starts to remember the events of the night—no, nights? Whatever—before; waking up from that dream of Keith dying and Lance being forced to watch him forever—He gets chills from just thinking about it—the trip to get a glass of water while his nose was conjuring up a flood; the sight of Keith and Griffin—NOPE. NOT THINKING ABOUT THAT.

“Ok, not to call you stupid, but I just wanna know what you were thinking when you put your room’s temperature to eighty-degrees?”

“I… don’t know. The only thing I know is that I definitely shouldn’t’ve walked in on James and Keith—”

“I do not need to know about that, bro.” Hunk politely interrupts, because he’s a literal ray of sunshine, “but what I do know,” he says, dropping what looks like his keys onto a nearby desk before whispering in Lance’s ear, “is that James and Keith are being called rivals now, and both of them aren’t denying it.”

Oh, that fucker—

(I WILL UPDATE THIS.)

Hi!!! I HAVE MADE A PART 2 TO THIS!! GO CHECK IT OUT IF YOU WANT SOME MORE!!!!

[itslittlegiggle]

Vega I’m gonna yell at you about Voltron now-

I wrote a baby fic this morning

Enjoy this meal ❤️

—

Keith who doesn’t know he’s ticklish until he’s a member of team Voltron.

Of course he knows what it is… it’s a hellish way of getting information out of a person. He learned that in the Garrison from an early age

At least, that’s what he thought it was…?

—

He wakes up to the sound of Pidge’s happy, shrieking laughter, and the cooing teasing of Hunk’s voice.

Bleary-eyed and yawning, Keith staggers into the living room to see Pidge trapped against Hunk’s chest in a hug, fingers worming up and down her sides.

“Y’know Pidge, you need to start taking better care of yourself. You can’t save the universe when you don’t sleep.”

“Huhuhuhunk! stohohohoppihihit!”

“See I would, I really would, but then you wouldn’t learn a lesson, and this would all be for naught.”

“Buhuhuhut my wohohohork!”

“It can wait. You need to get some sleep, dude. I know you never went to bed last night.”

Pidge whined and tried to protest, but squeaked instead when hunk’s fingers traveled to her neck and ears. “Nahahat fahahahair!”

“It’s so totally fair, Pidge. I just need to tucker you out, and then you can sleep.”

“Okahahahay! Okahahahay! Ihihihim dohohohone!”

Keith noticed that after Pidge tapped Hunk’s arm, the taller male stopped immediately. But- Pidge didn’t agree to his terms… Why did he stop so soon?

His question was answered when the green paladin slumped against the yellow, eyes drooping and a giddy smile on her face.

“Told ya. All you needed was some tiring out,” Hunk cooed as he adjusted her in his arms. On the way out of the room, Hunk passed by Keith and smiled. “Oh, good morning, Keith. I’m just going to put Pidge to bed, and I’ll be back out.”

Only nodding after, Keith watched the two retreat down the hall. He sat on the couch, dazed and confused as to what the hell he just witnessed. After a moment or so, he sees a blur in front of his eyes. He blinks back into reality, looking up to see Lance.

“Everything okay?” the blue paladin asked, sitting next to the red.

“Wh- Yeah… I’m uh. I’m just a little confused,” Keith admitted.

“About what?”

“Well… Pidge stayed up all night, so Hunk tickled her to get her tired so she could sleep.”

“Right…”

“But when she said to stop, he stopped right away. I didn’t think she was allowed to control when it stops.”

“Keith…” Lance looked at him, concerned. “Who told you that?”

“I learned about it, at the Garrison,” he mumbled. “It’s supposed to be for interrogation and coercion, isn’t it?”

Lance stared brokenly at the red paladin. How awful was his home life as a kid? “Of course not. I mean- it can be for that, but it’s not exclusively for that.”

Keith looked like his world had been rocked.

Lance smiled patiently at the other. “Keith, do you trust me?”

He nodded.

“Come here; lay down in my lap.”

“Lance…?”

“J-Just trust me!”

Keith obeyed and lay flat, eyes looking questioningly at Lance’s.

“Tell me when to stop, okay?” With another nod for permission, Lance’s fingers descended on Keith’s stomach, making purple eyes widen before their owner fell into gentle giggles. “See? It can be nice and playful… or I could be mean and start teasing you. Cootchie cootchie cootchie cootchie-“

“Lahahahance! Nohohoho!” Keith’s face buried into Lance’s side. “Thahahahats wohohohorse!”

“Awww someone’s weak to teasing, that’s sweet. How about here?”

Keith squealed and arched away from the gentle tickling fingers when they found their way to his ribs. “Ohohoho my gohoHOHOD-“ The fingers had wormed their way up under his arms, causing him to kick his feet.

“Oh? You want me to go there next? Sure, let me just finish my job up here first.”

Oh dear. Lance was too good at this teasy stuff. “Breheheheak! Breheheheak!”

When the magic word was spoken, Lance’s fingers came to an abrupt halt, gently rubbing the spot he was previously tickling. “Well? Did you have fun?”

“I-“ Keith unburied his face to look up at Lance. “I-I guess so? It didn’t feel like I was helpless or anything, so I think it was fun.”

“Well, there you go! See, tickling can be fun if you have the right person doing it. I for one will always respect your right to tell me to stop.” Noticing Hunk walking in, Lance smiled. “Say, Keith… have you ever heard of a raspberry?”

The red paladin cocked his head, thinking for a second. “No I don’t think-“

“Do you want to know what they are?”

“I uh- I guess?”

“KEITH, BUDDY, ITS A TRAP! HE’S GONNA-“ Hunk’s voice boomed as he ran to the couch.

Before Keith knew it, his shirt was raised, and Lance was blowing a huge raspberry into his side. His head fell back as adorable giggles fell out of his lips.

“-tickle… you…” Hunk sighed.

Well, he tried his best. He sat down across from the two to watch the chaos unfold. Lance eventually grabbed Keith’s wrists and held them above his head, blowing a raspberry and tickling under his arm at the same time.

Keith’s shrieking laughter was so loud that he woke up Shiro, and then Keith learned that sometimes the people doing the tickling are ticklish too… and Lance was quite an extreme example of that rule.

As Shiro sat on the couch and held Lance against his chest, unrelenting pinches on the boy’s hips, Keith and Hunk watched with interest to see just how long it would take for Lance to fold.

This family is going to have quite a lot of learning experiences…

GIRL DNSKCNSBXVBD I WAS NOT EXPECTING THIS????? SLAY! Thank you for sharing!!!

lance explaining to keith he can have boundaries 😭 like lance grew up in a big family and im sure rules had to be established bc sometimes siblings can go overboard so he’s big on respecting boundaries

KEITH TRUSTING LANCE???? NO QUESTIONS ASKED????? 🥹

You’re pulling me HARD back into voltron and I’m not complaining lmaoooo