#those altean marks will always be with him and he will suffer because of it

[harukamitsuki]

Honestly, I kind of hate how Lance was given altean symbols. Unlike my other posts, however, this isn't hating on him. I mean, his relationship with Allura felt so one-sided. Allura was clearly rebounding on him and the show just didn't want to acknowledge it. She was still hung up on Lotor, even imagining Lotor's face when they kissed, which is wrong. She was basically using him at that point and it actually made me feel bad for him.

But the worst part is the altean markings. Every time he looks in the mirror, he will only be reminded of the fact that Allura is dead. If he ever decided to move on and start seeing other people, they're going to ask about the markings and bringing up your dead ex is never going to make a first date go well.

He's marked by this memory of Allura and it is wrong. I feel as though my previous posts have made it seem as though I hate lance full-stop, when this isn't exactly the case. He had some really good potential and it's mostly the writers whom I dislike for making Lance's character go down hill. Unlike other character who I despise (not really in Voltron, though Haggar comes close to that point), there are moments where I genuinely like Lance.

I liked Lance in season one and two, and I appreciated him through season five. I just find myself disliking him more than I like him which is a shame.

The markings are the cherry on top of the cake. The writers really felt like screwing everyone over in season eight. Just that last shot of Lance with the markings that will always remind him of his dead ex who rebounded on him, as he's farming like a Cuban stereotype, (probably the only Cuban thing he's done in the series which is a whole other can of worms), really sets my teeth on edge.

I promise. I will try to talk about other things, maybe Voltron related, maybe other things like... KHR, Owl House, Gravity Falls, BNHA, One Piece, ect... But I'm currently hyperfixated and it will be a while before I stop. Sorry teehee

[slothgiirl]

the medic (keith x reader)

17k. something weird’s going on with keith, like alien weird. as the team medic, you’re concerned.

“So he is avoiding me,” you muse aloud, grabbing one of the pink alien food biscuits that were Hank’s latest experiment. Though it had been hours since Voltron had taken out the Galra Empire’s presence on this Balmera, you’d only just seen the last of your patients. Altean medical equipment did wonders.

After a battle, you were hardly surprised to find Hank in the kitchen, grounding himself as he cooked. You were surprised to run into Keith.

“Yeah,” Hank nods, “Probably trying to avoid another dental exam.”

You flush bright red, “His teeth fell out! Sorry for being concerned.” Between you and Lance, you’d managed to get a look at Keith. A fist fight with some alien species that was cooperating with the Galra had not gone Keith’s way, knocking out two of his teeth.

Shiro, predictably, had waved it off and accepted Keith’s insane explanation that his teeth would grow back on their own without question: given his hand waving of the red paladin’s eyes glowing slightly in the dark, more than any human’s should (human eyes didn’t glow at all!). Hindsight was twenty twenty.

The yellow paladin shrugs as he mixes orange noodle-esque things in a bowl.

Team Voltron was full of strong personalities. Add in Lotor and his friends dropping in, there was always something going on.

Hank just wanted to unwind from spending the past few hours destroying heavy duty mining equipment without hurting the planet. “So how are the biscuits?”

You chew on one, still bothered by Keith. Maybe Hank was right and he was trying to hide something from your keen gaze. You hoped not. Knowing the red paladin, and after two years in space, you certainly did, he’d rather suffer in silence until there was no other option than get medical attention. Back on earth with needles and scalpels, you understood, but in the Castle of Lions…

“Kind of like a rice cracker,” you tell Hank helpfully. “In a good got snacks at H-Mart way, not the sad quaker oats rice snacks.”

“Oh H-Mart,” Hunk smiles, “they don’t have those in space. They do have salt though. Found that at the last market we went to.”

“As long as alien food doesn’t poison us,” you comment. It was lucky that hadn’t happened. It was alien food. But not one negative reaction which either made humans some of the most hardy species or you were just lucky.

“Yeah,” Hunk chuckles, “I’ve gotten pretty good at recognizing what’s edible and not. I know Pidge said there’s some books, but my Altean is pretty bad.”

“Languages are hard.”

“Wish there was a space version of google translate.”

“Hunk-”

“Yeah.”

“That’s genius!” You look at the yellow paladin, wondering how a universe with speech translators never thought to do the same for written language.

“I know,” Hunk smiles while popping another tray into the oven.

—————

Lance finishes painting your toenails. It was a rare day when there were no space battles or rebel meetings. “Pidge,” the blue paladin whines, “let me paint your-”

“Don’t even think about it!”

“It’s supposed to be team bonding night,” Lance counters.

“Lance,” Allaura frowns from where she’s sitting with Shiro, “the castle’s night cycle has not started.”

“Well we can change it,” he counters, “there’s no up or down in space. OR day or night.”

“You can paint my nails,” Hunk offers. “Won’t last long though between the cooking and the vents I’ve been cleaning. This is a 10,000 year old castle. No offence,” he glances at Allura.

“No offence at all. The battles have taken their toll and I’m sure Coran appreciates the help. He is only one man.” She lets out a sigh. The only other remaining Altean was a bittersweet subject for her.

Hunk kicks off his shoes. “My pleasure. Literally. This Castle is so cool. The artificial gravity alone!”

You watch the paint dry on your toes. Only your big toes had actual drawings on them, strange alien creatures you’d all encountered over your time in space. The others were clear with green and blue swirls. “You’re a good artist Lance.”

The blue paladin winks, “I’m a regular old Michaelangelo.”

You laugh, “of course you are.”

“And I’m not just good with a brush,” he wiggles his eyebrows, more boyish flirting than anything serious.

You roll your eyes.

Pidge throws a cushion at Lance. “Oh please like you’ve got past the first date!”

“I have! Vivian Tran from Calculus.”

“Can you focus on my nails,” Hunk asks, but Lance is busy waving the thin brush in hand as he argues with Pidge.

“And Atticus from Cantonese.”

“Didn’t you drop that class,” Hank asks.

“Well, the hindi teacher was way nicer and didn’t hate me. I was good at drawing the characters though.”

“Can you speak hindi,” you ask, having taken French for your language fulfillment.

“Eh-” Lance shrugs.

“Can you flirt in Hindi is the real question,” you ask with a grin.

“He can’t even flirt in English,” Pidge points out scathingly.

“Hey!”

“My nails Lance,” Hunk grumbles.

“Right. Right,” Lance focuses back on his task, going with a yellow that matches Shay. “What language did you take Shiro?”

“English.”

“How many dialects does Earth have,” Allura asks.

“A lot,” Shiro tells the alien princess. “The Garrison pushes being multilingual in its program. Most cadets were already bilingual to start with, generally covering major languages.”

“Ah.”

“Got bored of the training room,” Pidge asks Keith as he walks in, flopping down on an empty sofa.

“It timed out.”

“Sure,” Lance immediately starts, a dog with a bone, “not like you couldn’t beat it or anything.”  

“You can’t even get past level 9!” Keith growls back, sitting up with a jolt, skin still slick from sweat and his cheeks were flushed with exertion.

Lance gets up, puffing out his chest. Oh boy, here they go again. The rivalry thing they had going on got old fast to everyone around them. While it did push them to be better paladins, it was annoying to hear. “Oh like you’re any better.”

Hunk takes the brush from Lance, finishing off his last toe on his own.

“I am,” Keith bites back, a growl still audible from his chest.

“Only because you cheat!”

“It’s not cheating!”

“How is it not-” Lance stops, furrows his brow, then grins. “You got a little something there.” And like a thirteen year old, Lance points and laughs.

Keith frowns, his hand coming up to his cheek.

Sure enough, Lance was right. Keith had a couple of angry red blemishes on his cheek.

“You have adult acne,” Lance giggles, immature as ever. He was always able to find an angle to everything. It was what made him such an excellent strategist.

“It’s not adult acne!” Keith scowls, scratching at the blemishes.

“Its been three years,” Lance retorts smugly.

You frown. “No. It’s been like two.” You look over at Pidge to confirm, “Right?” You were like ninety percent sure you were twenty.

“Two and a half,” Pidge answers.

“Ha! You’re twenty! Adult-”

“I don’t have adult acne!”

They’d fought over more meaningless things before.

If it was two and a half years, maybe you were twenty one? You frown. How old would you be before you ever saw your family again?

Stashing that depressing thought away, you focus on Keith and the red marks on his cheek like a line coming down to his jaw. “It could be a rash,” you utter thoughtfully. Pidge and you had already encountered a very itchy plant before. “Or space ringworm-ring line?”

For the first time in days, Keith looks at you, meeting your gaze. “It’s not a rash!”

You lift your hands up, “okay. Okay. Geez.” When it came to Keith, you didn’t push too hard. He was too stubborn for it to work.

Lance, however, “hey, it’s okay Keith-buddy, just use toothpaste.”

“Toothpaste makes it worse,” Hunk counters. “Not great for your skin either.”

“It always worked for me,” Lance counters. “Or a clay skin mask.”

“Clay? You mean that green mud,” Keith clarifies.

“It’s clay!”

“Clay would work,” you agree with Lance. “Hey it could be like a spa day!”

“I could go for a spa,” Hunk nods.

Pidge shakes her head, “right. I’m going to try and see if I can get a signal back home.”

Shiro looks over at you, “do you really think it could be something serious?”

You shrug. “No clue.”

Keith huffs, “Just drop it,” he states dramatically, headed for the door. He was over being the center of attention.

“So face masks?”

You nod, “want to try it Allura?”

“I would love to try the clay mask,” she smiles brightly.

——————

Te-Osh’s rebels had sent for Voltron, less fighting than rebuilding.

While you were no paladin, you had spent the majority of the day helping Allura take stock and synthesizing medicine, everything from serums to numbing gels. Just your luck the machine had overheated and given out on the last batch. It was a pretty large machine.

You stick your head inside, waving off the smoke. With your nails, you pry open the hutch and take stock. You were no Pidge or Hunk, still unsure how the thing even worked, but it was clear it needed a new regulator and starter. “Plenty of those lying around,” you utter, scrunching your face at the awful burnt hair smell. Your finger finds the ventilator button on your wrist controls, and there-the smell gets sucked out of the room.

“Is this a bad time,” Keith asks behind you.

Startled, you bang your head on the mental. “Keith,” flushing hotly when you look back and realize you were ass up in front of him.

He doesn’t even notice, grimacing, hand rubbing his nose bridge.

“What’s wrong?” You hurry to wash your hands.

Keith sits down at one of the medbay tables. “My skull feels like it’s being cracked open,” he explains flatly.

You look him over closely, standing right in front of him. “Where exactly,” you ask, frowning when you notice the blemishes had grown to a full blown rash, hot angry skin peeling and cracking like twin marks down his cheeks. You should have pressed. What if it was a parasite? Keith was half galra.

It was easily forgotten given how human he looked. Sure, the signs were there: his unhuman night vision, more strength than he should have, good ears and nose, nails that had torn through metal, but it all faded into the background.

“Does it itch,” you ask, raising your hand, fingertips hovering over the marks on his cheeks.

“Yes,” Keith nods, averting his eyes from your gaze, “mostly it’s hot. And my sinuses…all the way down to my neck. Hurt.”

“Hm,” you turn, reaching for the medical scanner. There was no way you could ever go back to being a medical officer at the galaxy garrison. Earth’s technology was ancient in comparison. “Hold still.”

“Alright,” he says seriously. Keith holds his breath.

You look up at him, in his violet eyes, and smile before laughing. “Keith!”

“You said to hold still,” he points out sincerely, before the corners of his lips turn up. Keith was an expressive guy, his smile lit up his entire being, a lightness in his eyes that made you smile wider.

“Let’s try this again,” you giggle, clicking the scanner and aiming right at his rash first. “Pew.”

He rolls his eyes, snorting. “You too?”

“Mine’s the only right one,” you wink, then look over the reading.

“Not even close.” He scratches at his cheek listlessly.

Whatever reason he had for avoiding you had worked itself out. You’d missed his company.

“Oh yeah,” you challenge, “then what’s the sound?” The readings came up clear. Keith was in perfect health. So not a parasite…space allergies? Those wouldn’t come up on the scanner.

“What is it,” Keith asks, noticing your pensive expression.

“How’s your sense of smell? Stuffy nose?”

He looks up, then takes a deep breath, “now that you mention it…I can’t smell your soap anymore.”

“What?” This was news to you. “You can smell my soap?”

“And whatever planet we’ve been on,” Keith fidgets, blushing as he ducks his head, bangs falling over his eyes, “the soil. It’s all different. But I can’t right now.”

That was worrying. But if the scanner said nothing was wrong…you had to wait and see. It might clear up on its own. You’d give it a day or two.

“Nothing came up on the scanner,” you tell him, “so it should go away on its own. It might just be allergic to something out here.”  

He nods, accepting your diagnosis.

“Let me get the medicine.”

“Mhm.”

You pass him a tube of gel and add that to the list of medication you need to synthesize once you fix the machine. Then grab a weekly supply of pain tabs. “Here.”

Keith pops one in immediately.

“Let me know if it doesn’t clear up in two days,” you tell him.

“Worried?”

“Eh, I can always set Lance on you again,” you snort. Shiro was a pushover when it came to Keith. He was no help.

Keith laughs, looking a little more himself. “I could take him.”

“You could,” you agree, “but don’t tell him I said that.”

He tilts his head, smiling. “Coming? Shay got food for us.”

“I’ve got to fix this machine first.”

“Need help?”

“Might ask Hunk or Coran,” you admit.

“I could-”

“No,” you cut him off, placing your hand on his shoulder, “go eat and rest. That’s an order.”

Keith leans into you. “Are you going to write me a doctor’s note too,” he asks, his delivery always so earnest you had to do a double take to figure out if he was joking or not.

“If I have too,” you stick your nose in the air. “I’ll even send one to Zarkon.”

Keith laughs easily. “Why didn’t Lotor think of that.”

You snort. “I’m going to check your lymph nodes,” you tell him, taking a step towards him again. “That okay?”

Keith tilts his head back, “Go for it.”

“Wow,” you chuckle, “who are you and what did you do with Keith Kogane.” You brush his hair out of his face.

“What?”

“Remember when you broke your arm,” you point out, gently pressing your fingers over the side of his throat, feeling the swelled bean shaped lymph nodes under his ears, behind his jaw. “And said nothing for like a week?” It had been your first year at the Galaxy Garrison.

“It was only a sprain,” Keith grumbles.

“Still!” You laugh, “I’m glad you asked for help.” Because this was still Keith and you didn’t want him to think you were laughing at him.

“Mm,” he closes his eyes as you trail your fingers lower, making sure it wasn’t too bad.

The fact they were inflamed at all worried you. You had no clue what was the space equivalent of antihistamines.

Keith’s breath tickles your shoulder, deepening and evening out like he’d finally relaxed. That was most of your patients once you gave them answers and they knew they’d be getting care and treatment. You liked helping people.

You pull your fingers back, ever the consummate professional. It was like the ghost of your garrison advisor was hovering over your shoulder. “They’re not too swollen if you can still eat. Can you still chew?”

“Hm?”

Keith opens his eyes. His expression is glazed and feverish.

“Keith,” you utter, worried.

“Yeah?” His gaze is heavy as it meets yours.

Your skin warms up because he wouldn’t stop looking at you like that.

“Any jaw pain,” you ask, focusing on the task at hand. You bring your hand up to his forehead. He was warm.

Keith leans into your touch, “no.”

“Good.” You bite your lip. Could it be some weird galra thing? Wouldn’t it have come up? You feel your own forehead. He was for sure warmer.

You were going to have to corner Coran about it.

Keith lets his eyes fall shut again and honest to god purrs, leaning into you.

Add cornering Lotor to your list.

You don’t pull away, figuring it was harmless. Lance, Hunk, and Allura were more prone to random hugs. You were more than happy to indulge Keith as well. He already wasn’t feeling well.

You wrap your arms around the red paladin’s shoulders, hugging him, “I’m looking forward to a break from Coran’s post mission food goo once I get done with the machine.”

“Mm.”

He was completely out of it.

His breath tickles your cheek.

“Though I’m not sure there’ll be any left if I don’t go there? Maybe I should grab a plate and then come back here,” you ramble. Keith had never sought you out for comfort. It was touching that he trusted you now. You’d been friends with the others before, with Keith and Shiro and the Alteans, you had skipped right over friendship and gone right to family.

“Oh.”

You look behind you.

Te-Osh takes a step back, “forgive my intrusion. I was unaware-”

Keith snaps out of whatever was going on with him. Bolting off the exam table. “It’s fine. We’re done here.” He hunches his shoulders and beelines for the door.

You frown, still processing.

“I can come back,” Te-Osh tells you, glancing between you and the door Keith had just escaped through.

You shrug. “No. I’ve got time. What do you need?”

“If you’re sure?”

Nodding, you smile, “yeah, what can I help you with?”

———————

“Here is where we will focus the blunt of the attack on. Keith, Lance, engage the fighters. Hunk,” Shiro explains, “you’ll be with me taking out the communications towers. We want to keep the damage to the minimum. The resistance leaders want the factory intact. Pidge-”

Pidge waves the Black Paladin off, “I’ve got the code written.”

“It really does come in handy,” Lance observes, “all those vents are Pidge size.”

The green paladin grumbles, “easy for you to say when you’re not the one crawling around in there. It’s not your knees getting banging up.”

“Well the galra are all like nine feet tall,” Hunk points out, “the vents probably aren’t that small from their perspective.”

Lance unsubtly glances over at Keith.

His rash had cleared up, but not before spreading. In its place were two purple slash marks running from his cheek to jaw, galra markings. No one had pressed…yet.

You were just glad it wasn’t some weird space parasite.

Her brother ruffles her hair, “Pidge sized! A micro pidge,” Matt jokes to himself.

She smacks his hand away, “five feet is a perfectly reasonable size.’

“She could still have a growth spurt,” you add, though it was highly unlikely.

“No,” Matt’s eyes go comically wide as he hugs his sister, “not my hobbit,” relishing in her embarrassment.

“Matt!”

“In summation,” Allura calls you all back to attention, “the paladins will take out Galra forces and Pidge will open the weapons factory up to Vexuin rebels to take over. I will be manning the Castle to ensure no fighters target the work camps and coordinating communications with the rebels.” She turns to look at you, “Matt and you will take down the sentries, freeing the people from the work camps.”

“No!”

Everyone looks over at Keith. The horror on his face is easy to read.

What had brought this on?

Shiro clears his throat.

Keith ducks his head, letting his bangs obscure his features.

“Why not,” Pidge asks grumpily, time was running out. You were all just ironing out the details, “your plans suck.”

“Pidge,” Shiro chastises.

The green paladin was right.

Keith fought the same way you played video games, caring about nothing but reducing the enemies stats to zero. He’d gotten great at teamwork, but he was hardly a strategist.

“Keith,” Allura asks, “do you have any legitimate reasons why Matt should go on his own?” And when she phrased it like that…

The red paladin crosses his arms over his shoulders.

Pidge taps her foot on the floor.

“Okay then,” Shiro takes over, “let’s get to our lions.”

“Coms. Come in earthlings!,” Coran chimes in over the system, “remember this planet’s atmosphere is toxic to breath, too much sulfur in the air, not to mention the heat will give you all a taste of the slipperies. And worse! So keep those space suits on Vol-”

“-Tron,” Lance grins back, having taken a liking to having a kooky space alien uncle.

You lock your helmet in place as Matt pilots the pod towards the work camps. They were just as grim as the first time you’d seen them. It was the same all over in many of the Empire’s work planets. They were at the bottom of the totem pole. There were some planets where the native species and Galra coexisted more or less peacefully, this was not one of them.

“So what’s up with Keith,” Matt asks you.

You shrug. “No clue. I keep waiting for Lotor or one of the Blades to drop in so I can corner them but he’s a picture of perfect health so I’m not worried.”

“But the,” he takes a hand off the wheel, motioning to his face.

You frown, arching a brow. You’d never looked at Allura quite the same after the way she had treated Keith upon learning about his heritage. It’s not like he’d been a completely different person, she’d known him for over a year.

Matt might be Pidge’s brother, but you weren’t about to let anyone get away with giving someone you loved shit. Especially not Keith who would just silently take it.

It made your chest ache, thinking about how sweet he looked when he smiled. He didn’t deserve any of it.

“What about it?” You stare back at him cooly.

Matt focuses back on landing the pod just beyond the sentires line of sight. “Nothing. Pidge figured it was nothing, didn’t even seem curious. I figured you might know, you two are pretty close.” He glances over at you meaningfully.

“We’ve known eachother since the garrison,” though you hadn’t really been friends. Keith had been kind of a loner. You’d tried to include him, having shared a couple classes with him here and there, but he’d never taken you up on any offer.

“Right.” He doesn’t sound all that convinced. “Glad to hear it’s all good. I caught the sneazles while in the work camp,” Matt makes a face.

You laugh.

“It was horrible! But also like an episode of spongebob somehow?”

“Space is weird.” You had way bigger problems and had seen stranger things by now. For fucks sake, you were saving dragon looking aliens from the Galra right now. This planet was like a silent hill game!

Thick fog obscured the rocky landscape. Even from within your suit you could smell the stench of rotten eggs. Yet this was home to the Vexuin.

Shiro gives the signal.

You take the safety off the taser gun Pidge had built for you. Anything pilfered off the Galra was too large for your small stature, just a hair shorter than Keith. The gun packed a punch, with enough voltage to take out the robots.

Matt and you get to work.

“Almost got it,” Matt mutters as you take aim and shoot.

Stupid damn biolocks.

“Hurry the fuck up,” you tell him, dodging a shot from another sentry before frying it with your own weapon. One shot, one sentry. You needed to take them down before they got close. The robots were durable and strong. You knew better than to think you could go hand to hand with one, you were a medic not a fighter.

“I am, I am,” Matt insists. “Ah there,” he grabs a taser flash bomb out of his pocket and tosses inside the sentry outpost.

You shoot again, trying to keep your hands steady. It was easy when it was just programmed machines. Nothing to feel bad about.

Matt and you rush inside, stepping over more fried sentries. You take position at the entrance, gunning down anything that makes its way towards the two of you.

“You in,” you ask him.

“Patience my young apprentice,” Matt says, laughing at his own joke, “it’ll take a moment for my worm to work its way through the software and give me complete control.”

The ground shakes as the main part of the battle takes place outside, at a monsterous factory that’s gray, chimney shooting out smoke. You can only see hints of lions shooting and Galra fighter ships lighting up the sky.

The sulfuric fog coats everything.

You taste rotten eggs on your breath.

Inside your suit, sweat runs down your back.

“Okay,” Matt chimes into the coms, “I’ve hacked the camps. Ready to open the gates.”

The rolling low grutal voices of the Vexuin rebel leaders fill your coms, “Good.”

“Go ahead Matt,” Allura gives the order, “Voltron?”

Pidge answers, “dropping in, should override their” static, “ticks.” Then an explosion reverberates in your ear where the communications device is.

“Pidge,” Keith yells out.

“Keith cover Lance,” Shiro grunts out, blasts audible from here. “Pidge?”

Nothing.

Matt’s face goes ghostly white.

“Pidge, come in Pidge?” Allura asks. “Paladins? Are you able to reach Pidge?”

“Negative,” Shiro replies, “Hunk, take the main gate! Time to land.”

“On it.”

“Guys,” Lance yells, “the shield’s down. Pidge hacked them.”

“Keith,” Shiro yells, “wait!”

“Fine.”

You decide to hope for the best. There was nothing you could do for any of the paladins all the way from here. “Turn it off,” you tell Matt.

He steals himself. “Right.”

The lights of the compound go out. Sentries power down where they stand, puppets with their strings cut. Locks disengage, and for the first time in decades, the Vexuin are free to leave the barracks free from Galra supervision.

You and Matt go out to meet them.

“I could get used to this,”  Pidge calls out as everyone meets on the planet’s surface. Rebels come in from the forest slowly, making sure this is for real, before sniffing the air and calling out to their loved ones lingering around the liberated camp complex.  Their vision worked in the infrared, all the better to see on this planet. You’d need at least three showers to get the smell out of your hair.

Keith carries Pidge, careful not to jolt the youngest member of Voltron. She holds a leg stiffly, a sprain or fracture.

Matt rushes to his sister, “Katie!”

She waves him off, “I’m fine.” Then snaps her fingers, “Down.”

There’s a small smile on Keith’s mouth as he places her down on the ground gently.

Lance comes up behind Keith, ruffling his hair, and being every bit himself as he comments with a smirk, “good boy.”

The shorter paladin smacks Lance’s hand away, but it’s too late, Lance is already smothering Keith in a hug that turns into a competition, like always with those two. Keith shoves at Lance’s face while Lance tightens his grip on Keith.

Shiro clears his throat, “paladins.”

“A dobesh in the pod,” you ask Pidge as Matt gets his turn to fuss over her.

“Yeah. Landed right as an explosion went off,” Pidge frowns. “Not my best moment, but my program still did it’s job and,” she pats her bayard, “I took them out.”

“Can’t be that bad if you can stand,” you agree. Nothing serious but you’d be keeping an eye on her all the same. The faster she got into the pod and took weight off her injury the better. You didn’t want to exacerbate the sprain.

“The jet pack helped,” Pidge points out.

“Lucky you,” you grin.

Shiro and Allura are consummate professionals as they go over the last of the logistics with the Vexuin, “It would be wise to stay until your people have situated themselves in case the Galra Empire retaliates,” Allura states, ending her sentiment in a question, “but it is ultimately up to you.”

The Vexuin chatter among themselves for a moment before one speaks up, “we would not turn down Voltron’s help. A few quintants should be enough time.”

“Then we will make ourselves of service to you,” Shiro nods. “Please, let us know anything we can help with.”

A red scaled one smiles, showing off her many sharp and jagged teeth, “our people long to see the camp destroyed.”

Hunk offers, “I could help rig a controlled explosion.”

“Very good.”

“The system inside the weapons factory is down,” Pidge tells them, “but I can reprogram it to keep the Galra out so that you can decide what to do with the place.”

“Oh no you don’t,” you cut in, “Matt can take care of that. You’re going in a pod first.”

“Pod person,” Matt mutters under his breath with a snort.

“Then let us get to work,” Allura dismisses everyone.

Pidge tries to take a step, and almost falls over.

You grab her.

Her face goes crimson from the pain.

The adrenalin must have been keeping the bulk of the pain away.

Keith picks her up.

It’s not until you’ve loaded Pidge in for three vargas that you pull off your helmet, savoring the crisp clean air of the Castleship.

“I can still smell the sulfur,” you comment, wrinkling your nose.

Keith shakes his hair out.

You look at him thoughtfully, “must be worse for you though.”

“Why,” he asks, genuinely puzzled.

“Because your nose,” you point out, then frown, “your sinuses did clear up yeah?” He never said anything about it so you figured they had and he could smell fine again, but you weren’t sure.

“Oh. Yeah. They did.”

You smile fondly, “very convincing Keith,” you tell him, reaching out to him. He lets you run your fingers right under his ears, behind his jaw. Everything was in order.

A knot of anxiety dissolves in your chest.

“Well,” he asks, “satisfied?”

“Mhm.” You look at the purple markings on his skin.

Keith’s breath hitches. His gaze is trained on you, watching carefully.

“So if not rotten eggs,” you ask, slowly bringing your fingertips over the marks on the sides of his face, giving him every opportunity to pull away, “what do you smell?” You couldn’t help it. It was that scientific curiosity. Everyone at the garrison had ended up there because they were nerdy in some way: devoting themselves to some STEM field while other kids were watching cartoons. You’d had a stutter as a kid, self conscious about it too, so instead of trying to make friends you read your textbooks under your desk, racing ahead.

Keith’s eyes meet yours. There’s a level of vulnerability in his gaze that worms its way into your chest and all of a sudden you’re incredibly aware of how close you two are, the lack of space between your bodies, your fingers caressing his skin.

You look away, focusing on the marks. They were purple, which was obvious. His skin itself had grown purple, perfectly delineated.

“Like wet soil,” Keith explains finally, “when they just added fertilizer.” You wince, remembering the smell of the horticulture center wafting through the garrison’s campus during the spring. “And garlic.”

“I like garlic. I’d kill for some,” you tell him, sounding very much like Hank. You hadn’t expected to be homesick for food. “Best food they served at the cafeteria.”

“That’s not saying much,” Keith mutters, amused.

You chuckle, pulling your hands away from his face.

He leans forward, asking for physical comfort in a very Keith way: unsubtle and wordlessly, putting the onus on you to get the hint.

Pidge must have freaked him out more than he was willing to discuss.

You wrap your arms around his waist, hugging Keith. “Pidge’ll be fine.” Sure, she was younger and short, but she was more than capable of handling herself. “I’m more concerned about how she left the other guys,” you comment lightly resting your chin on Keith’s shoulder.

His shoulders shake as he laughs easily. “They asked to surrender to her personally.”

“That’s Pidge all right.” You glance over at the pod. She’d be back on her feet in no time.

Keith’s breath against your skin feels nice. Your heart flutters in your chest and you find yourself blushing and pulling away, thoughts racing as you realize just how much you liked this boy. You pull away, unsure what to do and suddenly finding it too awkward to be around him at all.

The start of a whine escapes his throat before he smothers it, looking away, as he lets his bangs fall over his eyes, effectively hiding his easy to read features.

“Let’s go help the others,” you say, fumbling to grab a med kit and click your helmet back in place, your face too warm and it must be obvious. You didn’t want to make things weird. You didn’t. But-

“I’m going to stay here until Pidge wakes up,” Keith tells you.

“Oh. Okay.” You nod. “That’s a great idea. It’s always confusing as hell to get out of the pods.” It was akin to waking up from a midday nap: completely confused and exhausted instead of rested.

Your skills would be more useful with the Vexuim than fussing over Pidge at the moment. And having something to do would keep your mind off Keith.

—————

“You know,” Lance comments, sliding up to you as you watch Lotor strut away from you after another failed attempt to talk to him. “If we bottled up whatever galra repellant you have going on, we could defeat Zarkon with perfume.”

You look over at Lance, trying to suppress a smile. “What would you call it?”

“Starlight.”

“That’s-that’s actually pretty great,” you tell Lance.

“I know,” he grins. Then the latino boy sobers up, “trying to find out what’s going on with mullet?”

You nod. “I even tried to corner Acxa,” you admit. For an eight foot tall purple alien, boy could she make herself scarce.

Lance’s eyes widened in delight, “like could and should peg me Acxa?”

You groan. “Lance, sometimes it’s okay to keep things to yourself.”

“I’m just saying,” he laughs, “the ship’s not that big…”

“It’s designed for six thousand people.” You’d learned that fun tidbit while practicing your Altean with Pidge.

“Like for real!”

“Yeah.”

“Ay dios mio,” Lance utters, “you’re screwed.”

You finally hit the motherlode.

Lotor and his generals are in a stately room that reminds you of the socratic lecture halls at the garrison, sofa arranged in a half circle, with Shiro and Allura. The former Prince had shown up for a reason beyond making a nuisance of himself. Allura looks at her wits end with him, as he smiles like a douche, her eye twitching.

She invites you in without hesitation, “take a seat next to me,” and effectively uses you as a human shield against Lotor.

Literally since you and Shiro were the only humans here.

“Everything has been thoroughly discussed,” Lotor comments dryly, snubbing you once more. Normally, you wouldn’t have cared but you were trying to get information out of the man. “Unless either of you have further questions?”

Shiro hums, rubbing his chin, “I know saddling you with a rebel ship or two will slow you down but I don’t see another way around it. A display of size on their part will go a long way to show it is an alliance and not the Galra Empire hy another name.”

Allura nods, a small smile on her lips as she looks over at Shiro, “The black paladin is right. It will be a steep hill to climb to show that you are not the Galra Empire. Their fears would be alleviated with the presence of the rebel alliance.”

Zethrid sucks in a sharp breath, “So that’s it then. We will always be scorned and merely tolerated.”

“Time,” Shiro sighs with a look of gentle understanding at the muscular woman, “they need time. You can’t erase 10,000 years of history. It is hard to extend trust after being imprisoned and enslaved.”

“The alliance has started coordinating with you and the Blade directly have they not,” Allura asks stiltedly. It was by the necessity of time that they had stopped going through Voltron first. Lotor might be too smug for his own good, but his team was effective at sabotaging warships and infiltrating Galra ranks to liberate prisons and cities, enough to turn the tide for the rebels.

Her feelings towards Lotor and the Blade were still tinged with suspicion, her treatment of them lukewarm at best.

Still, Lotor brushed it off and continued to help. “Well then, Princess, Shiro, we have a long journey ahead of us.”

Shiro nods.

They shake hands.

You stand up, ready to corner Lotor.

“But first a word Shiro, it is a private matter.”

“Yeah, sure,” Shiro leads Lotor away.

Your eye twitches.

That snake!

Zethrid and Narti walk purposefully away as Allura pushes in her chair, ignoring the last two of Lotor’s team. “Princess,” Acxa, tries. “Until next time.” She nods at you, “stay safe.”

Allura gives the woman a strained smile, hooking her arm with yours. Human shield.

“You too,” you tell her. She doesn’t wait, already halfway out the door. You sigh.

Ezor giggles, by far the friendliest and easiest to get along with of Lotor’s team. “Stashing food and water will cut down the embarrassment by half.”

“What?”

“Oh,” she shrugs, “I guess Lotor was right. Darn it! Now I owe him one hundred GAC.”

“Wait-”

But she scurries off.

“Ugh,” you kick the wall, tired of everyone being weird. The usual frustration with being caught up in a space war was just the salt on the wound.

Your toe throbs, “fuck,” you hiss.

“They are rather tiring to deal with,” Allura agrees, reading the situation wrong, “but it hardly calls for assaulting the Castle.”

“Sorry,” you flush red with embarrassment. “I just had a question for Lotor and he seems intent on never being in the same room as me.”

“Ah-,” Allura smiles easily, “Lance did mention that you were in possession of a Galra repellent.” The twinkle in her eyes lets you know she was in on the joke.

“Come, let us work our frustrations out with some introspection.” Which was just Altean for weird breathing exercises that supposedly helped you do alchemy. She had managed to rope you into practicing with her before.

“Anything to spare the wall,” you joke.

——————

You walk back from the library. It was a cozy room, especially when you dimmed the lights. The Castle was always so bright, designed with the Alteans sight needs in mind.

Sometimes you just needed some time away from everyone. You loved them, but spending years with the same people while floating through space…you had no clue how Shiro had managed it.

Getting a walk around the ship was also nice. It was easy to forget how big the Castle was when you mainly stayed on the same three floors. Just a couple months ago Coran had rediscovered the greenhouse. The plants were a little piece of Altea, and had quickly become one of Allura’s favorite spots.

The windows were wide portholes. It unnerved you still, looking out and not recognizing any star, any constellations.

A lump of homesickness lodges itself in your throat. It had been over two years, your siblings would have grown so much in that time. You certainly had. The last vestiges of childhood had gone from your face.

Acne cleared up even without Lance’s ten step routine.

You walk across the bridge, trying not to look down. The viewing platform was clear glass in space, you could lay on it. It freaked you out a little.

It was the only constantly dark place in the castle.

You still yelp when you spot Keith, his eyes luminous violet like a glow in the dark t-shirt. That should have tipped all of you off, but alien was not the first thing that came to mind when you previously believed aliens had never visited earth.

He whimpers, curling up further.

“Keith,” you gulp, focusing on him and not the glass separating you from the void of space. “What’s wrong?”

He looks up at you miserably, blinking sluggishly. “I have the worst migraine.”

“And you’re down here instead of getting painkillers?”

Keith shrugs. “It’s not as bad, quiet. Dark.”

You sit down next to him. “I can go get you something,” you offer, your cheeks warming up and it was ridiculous how you can’t even manage to act normal around him anymore.

“Coran already gave me a dose.”

“Oh.” You were hurt. You were supposed to be the medic. That was your role on Team Voltron.

You hug your knees to your chest, and look down at space. It was darker than the photographs back on earth. Not so purple and blue.

You weren’t Matt who was just as good as Pidge with technology or Allura who was the leader and a princess to boot, you’d just planned on having a late dinner with Hunk once he got over the motion sickness before Lance roped you into following Pidge. You weren’t a paladin.

Keith shuts his eyes. “You were with Allura. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“It’s no bother.” You swallow thickly, letting silence fall over you both.

You listen to Keith breathing, looking around the darkness of space for any familiar stars. You knew the space around Shay’s Balmerra, and Arus was at least a little familiar. But the universe was so vast and wide.

There were planets you’d only ever been to once, each with a different night sky. Some of them never even had a night, with multiple suns staving off a night cycle.

“Do you think Allura minds?”

“Mind what,” you ask.

Keith clenches his jaw, rubbing his temples. “That I look more Galra.”

Allura has always been harder on the Galra. For her, it had been such a short time since Zarkon had destroyed her world and her people. You didn’t agree, but you could understand where she was coming from, the pain still there as she continuously wore Altean mourning pink.

You look over at him, the outline of his body against the glass. “I think your marks look cool.”

“Bullshit.”

“I do,” you whisper gently, considerate of his migraine. Those were the worst. “They frame your face. You look nice,” you finish lamely, looking away. You look nice. Lance might say stupid things but at least he tried.

“What if I looked even more Galra?”

“Like completely purple and tall?” You couldn’t really wrap your head around it. It also seemed incredibly unlikely. Could his phenotype change so drastically? On earth the answer was no, but who knows how the Galra work. It was fascinating to see such a wide range of traits in one species.

He was also half human.

You worried if his body would even tolerate such a drastic change.

“Yes,” he says, not waiting for you as he rants in agitation, “the rebels hate the Blade and Allura doesn’t trust them at all and that’s not even mentioning Lotor.”

“That’s not true. Te-Osh likes Acza and Ezor. Lotor’s kind of annoying if we’re being honest, and I’m sure his being Zarkon’s son makes it a little hard to believe he’s on our side,” you try to reason. “And don’t write off the Galra who have changed sides or were in the camps right alongside other aliens.”

Keith says nothing in response, mouth a thin line as he thinks.

You wonder how long it’s been bugging him.

You want to reach out and hug him, but he isn’t Hunk. You’re not sure he’d want to if he’s not initiating the contact. So you don’t.

“Everyone knows how the last Galra paladin worked out.” A low growl in the back of his throat is enough to clue you in to how distressing this was for him.

Your heart hurts. “And everyone knows you’re not Zarkon,” you state evenly back. “We already know you’re Galra.”

Keith snorts humorlessly. You can’t see his eyes; they’re hidden by his bangs.

“The glowing eyes are not exactly subtle dude,” you point out, “not to mention your hair does the poof thing guinea pigs do when they’re eating, but not when you’re eating, more like when you get annoyed.”

“I-what!” His eyes go comically wide as he sits up. His dark hair does the thing, making him look like a character from those old Japanese kids movies.

You giggle, “you’re doing it.”

Keith tries to look at his reflection in the glass.

You blush, grateful that it’s too dark to see, and then realize that wasn’t true for him, so you look away, hoping he didn’t notice. “Yeah. I’m the medic, it’s my job to know these things. Like how Pidge has two webbed digits on her foot and Lance is allergic to flax seeds and bees.”

“That…makes sense.” Then he smiles, “still didn’t put two and two together.”

“Don’t be a smartass.” Reason number three thousand Iverson had it out for him back at the harrison. “And if anyone has a problem with you I’ll kick their ass.”

“You?” Keith snorts. “You wouldn’t even flip me during self defense.”

“You remember that?” You run a hand over your face, “I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” you always took forever to practice on your partner. And your weak arms didn’t help.

“That’s what the mats were for.”

“Still!”

Keith laughs at your expense.

You smile, taking delight in watching him smile and laugh and you wish it could always be like this and the war would just end.

Then you sober up. “You’re going to be okay, right?”

He doesn’t answer you right away.

“Keith-” you reach out, voice cracking. “You’re going to be okay, giant purple space cat or not, right?”

He takes your hand, squeezing it firmly. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

“Good,” you utter, but tears bead up in your eyes anyway. It was terrifying watching someone go through something unknown that you couldn’t help them through for all your medical training. You knew how to set bones and run a pod…not whatever this was.

You trusted Keith.

He knew himself better than anyone. After all, he’d been right about his teeth growing back.

“You really are worried,” he whispers in disbelief.

“Duh.”

“I can smell it on you,” then he seems to realize what he said, and pulls away, ducking his head. Like he hadn’t meant to say so much.

“Really?” Learning about anything alien biology was pretty cool, you had to admit. Allura had once described colours that you couldn’t perceive. It was a fun talk. And then she’d made you meditate for alchemy stuff or so she claimed. It might have just been payback. “Is that new?”

“Yeah,” Keith admits, still drawn into himself. “Can we not-I already feel like enough of a freak already without,” he waves aggressively at himself.

You bite your lip, nodding. You wanted to say something, to get it through his head how you saw him, incredibly kind and fiercely loyal (to the point of taking on Zarkon by himself) and an endearing smile you never got tired of seeing.

You liked him.

The universe was lucky to have him as a paladin.

But you don’t know how to say it in a way he’d accept. And he asked you to drop it, so you do. “Right, I’ll just go then.” He’d been here first, and the glass made you nervous.

Could it withstand a hit from a galra battleship?

Keith opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but he just nods, then winces, “Argh,” he groans as he curls up on his side, covering his ears with his hands.

You rush to his side, kneeling next to him, “Keith,” you utter softly, not wanting to make it worse.

His eyes are pressed close and for all your medical know-how, you’re at a loss.

So you running your fingers through his hair soothingly and wait for the pain to pass.

He shifts, laying his head in your lap as he whimpers.

You can’t stand to watch him and do nothing. You press your com, pinging Shiro and Coran. This was beyond you. He’d trust Shiro with whatever was going on and he’d gone to Coran. You respected that even if it did sting.

Your pride meant little so long as Keith felt comfortable and sought help.

“Shh, shh,” you whisper gently.

Sweat beads on his brow.

Whines escape his throat.

“Fuck,” he grunts, clenching his teeth.

He’s warm to your touch and that rouses another bout of worries. At this temperature it’s a fever, but he didn’t have the symptoms, the flushed cheeks and chills.

Keith curls up further, muscles stiff.

You’re helpless.

After what feels like ages, Shiro and Coran finally appear.

“Number four, Number five,” Coran claps his hands.

You hold out your hand, motioning them to shut the fuck up as Keith winces at the sound.

His hair is damp near his ears.

“Keith,” Shiro utters much more gently, kneeling down on his other side, “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

He raises his head, blinking groggily at Shiro, trying to concentrate through the pain, “Shiro,” he reaches for his brother who easily pulls him against his chest. Keith buries his head in the crook of Shiro’s neck.

You sit back, trying to get out of the way. Your hands are wet.

You look down and realize it’s blood. His ears-

Oh god.

“Number five,” Coran says gently, helping you up, “I’ll take great care of our Paladin. Why don’t you go get cleaned up.”

You don’t get any sleep that night.

——————

You were always struck with cognitive dissonance walking around colonized planets like Rahiri where the natives and Galra lived side by side. This was not a planet ravaged by the empire. The flora-like aliens in all shades of green with rootish limbs and leaves and petals for hair had assimilated into the Empire, achieving citizenship over generations. 10,000 years deca-phoebs was a long time. That was a huge source of tension in the Alliance, what to do with the world who neither wanted or wished to leave the Empire.

It was also a source of dark humor that no one spared the four of you a second glance despite two paladins of Voltron walking around.

Hunk holds Shay’s hand in front of you as they point and awe and drag their feet on the way to the space port.

“You could always stay with,” Hunk says hopefully, “we could just drop you off. Personal taxi service.”

Shay smiles back kindly, “that would be wonderful but I have been away from home for too long. I am, as you say, a homebody.”

“Aw, yeah,” Hunk chuckles, “I feel that. I like the ground. And dirt. Piloting is overrated.”

“Don’t let yellow here you say that,” Keith comments so dry, you think he’s serious for a second. Allura and Pidge had gone shopping for supplies. That was an advantage of a planet that had not seen war.

Hunk glances back, clearly having forgotten we had tagged along in case anything went down. “Yeah well, she’d like a small moon. Or an asteroid. There’s colonies on those.”

“Very true,” Shay laughs. “I think my balmerra is also like a moon. A beautiful creature. We have learned how to ask for crystals so we do not need to cut them.”

“That’s impressive. Did the books from Allura help,” Hunk asks.

As much as you liked getting to stretch your legs, seeing a different planet where the threat was not imminent, you didn’t like being a third wheel, or fourth wheel if you went according to Coran’s favorite numbering pattern. That inch difference between you and Keith mocked you.

You glance over at the red paladin.

His gaze kept flickering back and forth, around the street. The occasional loud noise of crates being unloaded made him jump.

“You good,” you ask Keith, cracking a joke so he’d know you weren’t judging him. “You see la llorona or Davy Jones?”

“Hm?”

“You know…a famous ghost? Do they have ghosts in space?”

Keith snorts, cottoning on. “They don’t even have ghosts on earth.”

You pull a face, “well that’s no fun. Seriously, you okay? Or have we been made?”

He shakes his head, glancing around again just to be sure. “So much for Zarkon’s finest.”

You laugh, following Hank and Shay into the space port. Shuttles were departing pretty consistently. Everything was in orderly fashion. You especially liked how no one was shooting at you.

“It takes some getting used to.”

“What does?” You watch as Keith shakes his head, making his hair fall back from his face.

Shay and Hunk go to the ticket counter, but you decide to find somewhere off to the side, wanting to give them privacy.

“Stuff.”

You roll your eyes at Keith, “you suck.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall, looking anywhere but at you. “Lotor explained it to me and Shiro…what’s happening.”

“Oh.” You swallow, looking at Hunk and Shay hugging and saying their goodbyes yet again. They’d said them last night at dinner, this morning in the pod, and again when you’d split from Allura and Pidge. It was cute. They were adorable.

“Sorry.”

“Hm,” you glance over at Keith, not sure why he would be sorry about anything. He was the one getting screwed over by half of his heritage.

“You’re hurt.”

“You can smell that too,” you ask him, holding his deep gaze. There was an intense commitment to everything Keith did; it was reflected in the depth of his violet gaze. He didn’t do things in halves.

“Now I can.” He looks at his shoes, red dusting his cheeks. The red didn’t tinge the purple marks on his skin.

“So this is all,” you’re not sure how to put it, “nothing to worry about?”

“He said it was normal. But because I’m half there’s no way to know what to expect.” He looks away as he says it, stiff as he glances around.

The anxiety that had settled into your jaw since you’d had to wash his blood off your hands eases up. “Giant purple space cat,” you joke, nudging his side.

“Oh fuck no,” Keith grumbles. Even that furrowed expression that crossed his chiselled features made you feel all giddy inside.

Bad timing.

“I’m not hurt I-I just wish you trusted me,” you finally admit. It was silly. You felt selfish, so you tack on, “You know I’m here for you if you need me. We all are. I know Shiro’s your brother, but we’re your friends.”

“I know,” he sighs wistfully, “I do trust you…it’s just-it’s been hard. I don’t know how to feel about any of it and I’m not used to it either.”

“It’s fine,” you tell him, “I’m being silly, making this about me. As long as you know I’m here for you…I’m not trying to force you to tell me anything…” you cringe internally at yourself. The galaxy garrison had been made up of nerds, so it followed everyone was a character. It hadn’t helped anyone’s social skills.

You wish you could just go, I worry about you because I love you instead of stumbling through word vomit.

“Come on,” Keith brings you out of your thoughts, grabbing your hand and pushing through the crowd of people coming and going to different boarding gates, “I think Hunk’s going to need some comfort food.”

You glance around, finding Hunk’s form making it’s way to you both. He was wiping his eyes, bittersweet smile, making no move to really hide that he was crying.

“Let’s get back to Allura yeah,” he tells you both.

“Or,” you go with Keith’s idea, “we can get something to eat. Allura gave us a good hour or so.”

“Varga,” Keith supplies.

“Yeah, that.”

Hunk nods, “that sounds nice. It’s just,” he looks back at the departing shuttle, “it’s hard. It’s war and you never know when your going to see each other again but it’s not like she can just drop everything and I wouldn’t ask her too, if anything I’d like to retire there. Nice and quiet. Maybe open a restaurant…”

“Vrepit Sal two,” Keith offers.

“Could make it a chain,” you add with a smile. Hunk, like you, was not such a gung ho pilot. You had landed the flight simulation without crashing exactly once, for your final emergency protocol exam.

“Thanks guys,” Hunk grins, “but I think I’ll bring some earth out here. Give these people a taste of traditional earthlign cuisine.”

“So your menu’s going to be as long as Cheesecake Factory’s,” you ask with a silly grin.

“Maybe not that long. A burger, ramen, scratch that, pizza instead of a burger.” Hunk rubs his chin thoughtfully sniffing the air and following his nose to a food stand. You trusted him for food. He had a knack for combining goo and exotically colored food that screamed fake and poisonous into pretty great meals.

Keith was still holding your hand, not as a loose afterthought: every now and then he’d rub his thumb against the back of your hand and it sent a thrill down your spine.

You don’t pull away, wanting to savor the feel of his skin against yours even if it wasn’t that deep. You’d hugged and napped with everyone at least once, grabbing each other’s hands in the confusing crowded hovels of swamp malls (actual swamp malls and not places Coran thought of as a swamp mall).

You nab a table outside the stand.

Everything was in Galra which none of you could read. “Damn,” you mutter looking over.

Hunk glances at Keith without subtlety.

You were starting to think only Allura and Shiro could do subtly.

Keith raises a brow.

“Nothing,” Hunk looks down at his screen.

“Point and hope for the best it is,” you shrug.

“I love a good surprise,” Hunk nods, then looks down at his hands, “we’ll see each other again right? Shay…they’re pretty safe. And well…yellow’s got thick armour.” He sighs, resting his cheek against his fist, elbows on the table.

“Shay’s a badass,” you confort Hunk, “she figured out how to communicate with the Balmera and through the Balmera. She’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty freaking amazing,” Hunk blushes.

You order from an alien that somewhat resembles Ezor, all cotton candy color, and twiddle your thumbs, enjoying the rare moment of rest and relaxation.

“I could get used to this,” Hunk comments, savoring the strange dish he’d been served.

“Get a travel food show,” you tease, “I’d watch it.”

“It could be like this all the time,” Keith muses hopefully, “aren’t planets like this proof we could all get along.” He bites into the glowing blue lotus root shaped meal, and blinks widely.

“What,” you ask, looking over at him.

Keith grabs a napkin and spits out his food. “I think I just lost another tooth.”

“You think,” Hunk raises a brow, “how could you not notice a missing tooth?”

“Smile,” you nudge Keith sitting next to you.

He rolls his eyes, before fake smiling which was always so undeniably forced when he did it. You laugh, nodding, “yup, missing tooth.”

Keith frowns for a second, before continuing to eat.

“Oh,” Hunk utters, before he kicks your leg lightly.

You look up, meeting the yellow paladin’s searching gaze.

He looks at you with a knowing smile.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, the tip of your nose burning hotly, you look down, shoving a questionable sticky black slice into your mouth. It was easy to chew despite the sticky-ness, the flavor starchy and nutty.

There was no way this wouldn’t get back to everyone else in the Castle. No way.

They were all so nosy.

Oh fuck.

——————

“It sure is hot in here,” Lance says with a challenging smirk at Keith.

You roll your eyes.

Lance stretches, resting his arms against the back of the sofa, his hand tapping annoyingly against your shoulder.

Keith is unmoved. Or more accurately, Keith’s mouth twists as he tries hard to ignore Lance’s latest attempts to get him to remove his hat, a lime green thing that clashed perfectly as was his fashion sense, or lack of any fashion sense.

Pidge smacks her head, then peaks curiously at Keith: at Keith’s hat.

You flick Lance’s cheek. “Hey hot shot, don’t hug me when you’ve set the thermostat to ninety degrees.”

“Ninety five actually,” he winks, hugging you towards him. Ugh, you couldn’t do it. You’d already done away with your afghan coat, tied your lavender flannel around your waist, what more could you do. You didn’t have shorts in space. The skirts stored in the castle were breezy, but made you feel at risk of tripping over the hem with each step.

“Hm,” Keith voices, taking a seat, “reminds me of home.”

Hunk snorts, “really thought that through,” he tells Lance.

Lance is undeterred. “Could go higher.”

“I don’t think your cow would like that very much,” you point out.

The blue paladin sulks, looking down at you, “you���re just saying that because you like-”

You jab your elbow into his side.

“Ow! What ever happened to do no harm?”

“Technically,” you tell Lance, “I never graduated.”

“She’s got you there,” Pidge smirks from beside Keith. She was taking apart yet another radio. The signal had yet to reach earth.

“Thank you Pidge.”

She shrugs, “It’s true.” Then turns on Keith, “The hat, explain.”

He looks like he wishes he could merge with the sofa at that, slumping in his seat.

You decide to step in, “I’m going to turn the thermo down.”

Lance is quick to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you back onto the sofa, “come on, relax. Like mullet said, it’s homey.”

You throw him a dirty look.

“Keith?” Pidge side-eyes her fellow paladin. He’s sat up, gripping the sofa cushion so tightly he’s ripping hole into the ten thousand year upholstery.

“You okay there buddy,” Hunk asks.

“No.”

“Oh.”

Keith sucks in a breath, and with deliberate motion, pulls the hat from his head.

Oh.

Your eyes widen.

OH.

His ears had changed.

They weren’t nearly as alien as Allura’s, but no one would mistake their shape for human. Keith’s ears tapered up and out, portrudding, but it was more than just a pointed tip, the entire shape of his ears had transformed, resembling a butterfly’s wing. It was still human in color, but…

Hunk breaks the stunned silence first, “so are you going to like to end up purple?”

Keith ducks his head, wrapping his arms around himself.

No one else gets the chance to further interrogate Keith, or hear his own thoughts, because Allura calls everyone up to the bridge.

Lotor hailed the Castle of Lions. Everyone stands around the bridge while Shiro and Allura take the lead as usual. They might as well be twins given how well they got on, communicating differing ideas without undermining the other.

“There are nine warships in the system,” Lotor acknowledges, “I would be much indebted if you would do me the favor of sending Voltron for the aerial battle.”

“The Empire’s presence is still in its early stages,” Acza explains, “but their terraforming development for the planet will cause the destruction of the Talpidae living there.”

“Then we have no choice,” Allura clenches her fist, never one to sit back while there was something she could do about it, “we will provide air support. Sent me the coordinates so that I may Teleduv there.”

Lance is still obviously eyeing Keith’s latest development. It was readily visible, and you were fighting the urge to do the same.

But you weren’t also trying to flick his ears.

Keith growls lowly.

Lance sniggers.

Pidge offers Lance a piece of paper to make paper balls with.

Hunk sighs long sufferingly, having resigned himself to the more childish side of his two friends. They were terrors. Put Pidge and Lance together, and they were gremlins out of a horror movie made for elementary school teachers.

You slip your hand into Keith’s, squeezing reassuringly. It would take some getting used to like anytime someone got a new haircut, but you would. Like his atrocious boots, they’d become an endearing part of him.

Keith squeezes your hand back.

Shiro nods, agreeing with Allura, “have the Talpidae been contacted.”

“Very much so,” Ezor chimes in, “they’re funny little people. And their sensory-”

“The point Ezor,” Lotor sighs, rubbing his nose bridge.

“They sent for help to the rebels. We were closest to their system,” Exor elaborates with a shrug, “they do not have the background to fight head on, and will evacuate most of their people into bunkers, but they have been digging under the new construction and weakening the structural integrity of the Galra outposts.”

“Very well,” Shiro accepts, “Princess Allura and our chief medic will meet with the Talpidae as a show of goodwill.”

“Our only medic,” Hunk points out.

Keith growls, his hand squeezing yours hard.

You all look over at him.

“Red Paladin,” Allura says, trying to look as professional as possible in front of her least favorite of Voltron’s allies, “is something the matter.” She shares a look with Shiro, but otherwise looks unsurprised at Keith’s less than human ears.

Or maybe she’d make a great poker played.

“Can’t you meet with the Talpidae after the battle,” Keith utters harshly.

“They may need immediate tactical support,” Allura reasons, “we should be there in person to provide it.”

“It’ll be fine Keith,” Shiro adds.

Their words do little to calm Keith down. His dark silky hair puffs up. His grip on your hand tightens and you feel miffed. You’d been on the ground working triage before. You might not be a fighter or pilot but you could look after yourself.

You pull your hand out of his. “I really don’t see what the problem is,” you tell Keith pointedly.

“I’ll watch Allura’s back and she’ll have mine.”

Allura nods. “Our chief medic is correct-”

His ears twitch, “You’re not exactly a fighter.”

Shiro covers his face with a hand.

Your brows furrow. You’re livid. “So! I won’t be fighting. We’ll be in the bunkers with the Talpidae. It’ll be safe so it doesn’t even matter.”

“If it’s perfectly safe then you don’t need to be there,” Keith’s voice breaks, a whine escaping his chest but you don’t care, done with the conversation.

“Yikes,” is Ezor’s quiet whisper.

You’re not a paladin so you don’t care, you just stalk off the bridge ready to go scream into your pillow in frustration. Or better yet, go for a swim and scream underwater.

“Wait-” Keith follows you.

You ignore him.

“I just-,” he keeps trying as you stalk down the stairs, deciding your room was better after all if only because you could lock Keith out.

“Listen-,” he whines.

“I didn’t mean-”

“You didn’t mean what,” you round on him, hands on your hips, pissed off and maybe some of its was from being stuck on this stupid ship all the damn time but like eighty percent was earned. You might not be taking on a squad of Galra soldiers, but you could take one on if it came to it.

Keith at least has the decency to look miserable, sad chirrups in his throat as he crosses his arms over his chest and looks at the ground.

“Well?” You tap your foot on the ground.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he finally manages. “Especially if you don’t need to be there.”

“But I do,” you counter, “There’ll be people running into those bunkers having escaped soldiers and sentries and the faster they get treated the better chance they have.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Keith repeats himself. “You-you can hold your own.” He looks up at you through his bangs, still hunched in on himself.

“Obviously.” There’s no heat, the anger having deflated already. It was just white hot ache in your chest, hurt at the idea that Keith thought you would get in the way, that you had nothing of value to add to the Alliance and Voltron.

You bite your lip.

Don’t cry, you think to yourself.

You were being dumb.

He was just being plain stupid.

“I mean it,” Keith repeats, “I’m sorry. I was just looking for an excuse to make sure you were safe.”

“Right, because Allura can handle herself but I can’t.” Your voice cracks.

“No,” Keith says in a rush, “it’s not the same.”

“Because I can’t fight?”

“That’s not,” Keith runs a hand through his hair, “It’s me okay. I’m-I’ve always jumped into things without thinking, but I decided to go for it, like breaking Shiro out but now I’m doing things before I even notice and it’s all these stupid Galra instincts!”

You swallow.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you once more. “I didn’t mean to and I’m sorry. No one thinks you can’t handle yourself. That’s why Shiro paired you up with Allura, because he knows you’re capable of watching her back.”

Your smile is fragile as you look over at him, “yeah?”

“Yeah.” Keith holds your gaze, looking as skittish as a stray dog. Another whine escapes his throat.

What the heck.

You hug him, “you’re such a dumbass.” You understood why he’d worry. This was war. Pidge was on a two man campaign with Shiro to get Matt to stay on the Castle, both scared witless that Matt might die on a mission with the rebels. Ulaz had died so everyone could get away.

You’d had patients in the last decaphoebs you could do nothing but ease their pain. You’d had patients that you couldn’t even administer anything for the pain because of how torn apart they were: guts spilling out, charred people shapes that you were surprised to still find breathing.

The images would never leave you as long as you lived.

“I’m sorry.” Keith buries his head in the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin sent shivers down your spine.

You hug him tightly, aware that every battle could be your last: the last time you saw him. “You’ve said that already,” you tease, memorizing the smell of him, stale sweat and something cloying that you had wanted to bottle up from the moment you’d met him and had never found on anyone else. As embarrassing as it was to admit to anyone other than yourself, Keith smelled good. Really good.

Most people smelled like nothing at all.

He stiffens.

“But it’s nice to hear again.”

Keith smothers a laugh.

You kiss his hair. Boys were so dumb.

He purrs.

You smile goofily, warmth building under your skin, and toes curling up in your shoes. You should say something. Right?

At some point?

Or maybe it shouldn’t be said under the looming threat of an upcoming battle.

Fuck.

You can’t decide, so you say nothing at all.

——————

Bombs still pelt the surface.

Your teeth chatter as the ground shakes even deep underground. Even more soil falls onto you. Your spacesuit was more oche than white at this point as you carry an injured Talpidae in your arms. It’s arm had been completely blown off. Sluggish blue blood oozed out.

Allura was last, tailing the group.

You reach the bunker.

The sentries had followed some of the feeling Talpidae into the tunnels, but they’d been sorted out.

The people here were strange, russet in fur colouring, with no discernable eye, just strange pink flagella protruding from their nose and large claws for digging. They stood at about Pidge’s height.

The bunker seals and you get to work.

Tourniquet here, pain patch there. There were so many of them banged up.

The fight continued on the surface.

The paladins had to form Voltron.

You and Allura work as a team, she takes the bruises and broken bones with no immediate risk of death. You triage the worst of the Talpidae, giving away your precious stash of painkillers to those you can’t save and are not in for a quick death, a Talpidae lies twitching, it’s nose blown off but alive. Another holds it’s hand, but shakes their head when they look at you. They weren’t going to make it.

Training kicks in and you focus on saving those you can.

Your hands stain blue from the blood.

Allura works alongside you.

You cauterize a Talpidae named Soedob’s hand, the claws on their right limb were gone, but most of it was spared.

“You smell Galra,” Soedob utters, blinking out of the pain induced haze as the painkiller kicked in.

You half hear, half don’t, so focused on the task at hand. It was easier to not stop until you were finished and could curl up and sleep and not think about blood and war and Zarkon.

“We have Galra allies,” Allura answers diplomatically, leaving the issue of the half Galra paladin alone.

It irked you.

“No, not them,” Soedob notes. “Those had a different aura.”

“Smell,” you guess, finishing off. You hoped the fighting ended soon. You supply was not unlimited. The castle had better facilities.

“Is that what you call it?”

“Our primary sense is sight,” Allura explains, giving you a long look.

You shrug. You hadn’t even seen any of Lotor and his team. There hadn’t been time. It had all been relayed over coms, over video.

“Another then?”

You swallow thickly, flushing with embarrassment because you both spent time around Keith but Soedob was only smelling him on you and it’s not like you had been doing anything intimate…well, it had felt intimate, hugging Keith, but it wasn’t anything like when cadets snuck into each others dorm room, shoving a sock on the door handle in the universal symbol of don’t bother us. “The red paladin is part Galra.” Mercifully, your voice doesn’t shake from the embarrassment, but you can’t look at Allura.

“Ah,” Soedob nods, neither outraged nor pleased.

Then there’s no more time, you have more Talpidaes waiting for medical aid. You give their own healers some of your supplies, freeing up Allura to find the clan leaders.

You can feel Allura’s questioning glance on you.

——————

“Team meeting in the mess hall,” Shiro calls over the coms system.

“Mess hall,” Pidge rolls her eyes, “it’s the dining room.”

You snort.

“I like to think of it as the dining room too,” Hunk offers. “I mean there’s only eight of us. It’s sort of like being home again.”

“Mess hall makes me think of the garrison,” you admit, falling into step besides them. “and the food.”

“Ugh,” Pidge groans. “That was the worst. Matt wasn’t kidding.”

“It does make the space packs easier to digest,” you muse, “maybe that was the point.” It took the garrison two years to get to Mars. It was funny, once you’d thought that was a long way from home.

“I liked the cheese garlic bread,” Hunk allows.

“Food goo,” Pidge grins, “or the garrison space food?”

“Food goo.” Hunk doesn’t even have to think.

“Food goo,” you agree. “Though not Coran’s paladin special.”

“You don’t even eat that,” Hunk huffs, half outraged half amused, “you’re always like well I’m not a paladin so…”

You laugh. “Seeing it is more than enough.”

The rest of the ship’s inhabitants are already there waiting for you. Lance is trying to teach Coran how to play slide, moving very slow as he claps their hands together.

Shiro and Allura are in easy conversation. Her mice scamper around her feet.

Keith looks absolutely miserable next to Shiro, folding himself into the smallest possible size, trying to disappear. It was hard to reconcile the Keith that was quiet with the Red Paladin that shot first and asked questions later.

You smile at him, excited to see him, but also figuring he could use some reassurance, whatever it was going through his head. Keith meets your gaze and the corners of his mouth turn up, before he ducks away.

You know better than to take it personally.

It was Keith.

Your toes curl inside your shoes and you bite back your smile, suddenly aware of how much you might be revealing and not wanting Lance of all people to start a meeting by commenting on it. For him, it might be all fun and games, but you weren’t sure what to do with these newfound warm and fuzzy feelings. You sure as fuck didn’t want to be called out on it.

You weren’t sure what to do about liking Keith so your current plan of action was: nothing.

“Thank you everyone for being here,” Shiro claps his hands together, his leader impression defaulted at awkward dad. He thought he always had to be on. Despite being the most trained out of us, he’d only just started his career during the Kerberos mission.

You wonder if he’d picked up his leadership style partly from Pidge’s dad.

“Where else would we be,” Pidge shrugs, never one to miss a shot.

“All the same,” the older man smiles.

“Yeah, no problem my dude, bro,” Lance flashes finger guns at Shiro.

You snort, taking a seat between him and Hunk.

“But seriously, what’s up,” Lance leans forward. “Or is this some lowkey way to keep us on our toes,” he winks at Allura who smiles indulgently.

“I await the news alongside you paladins,” Allura answers, hands resting in her lap. She looks over at Shiro.

The whole room turns to look at Shiro.

He had called the meeting.

Meetings tended to be informational in nature: updates about the expansive war, rebels hailing Voltron for intervention, the Blade passing on the rare bit of information, and the always popular distress signals. But Shiro and Allura both looked too calm for that.

Keith goes rigid, a spring wound up too tight.

Hm.

You wondered if the elephant in the room would finally be addressed.

Shiro puts his hand on Keith’s shoulder, smiling encouragingly the way a parent dropping their child off for their first day of school would, “go ahead Keith.”

The red paladin focuses his gaze on Shiro, his expression more sour than it’s been in a long time.

The past few years had done a lot to get him to open up to everyone on board, but right now, he looks exactly like the stubborn closed off cadet he had been back on Earth.

His ears twitch slightly. He manages to look even more taunt, and you wonder if he’s going to wave this off. Then, he lets out a breath.

His body is stiff, but Keith no longer pulls away from Shiro. He looks down at his hands pensively, nails cut to the quick. “Right.”

You can feel the nervous energy of the rest of the room, leaning in, waiting to see what Keith wants to say.

“Mhm, go on,” Lance says, chin in hand.

Hunk elbows him in the side.

“Hey!” Lance is about to start in on Hunk.

“Guys,” you snap, shoving Lance’s shoulder.

“Okay, okay,” Lance zips his mouth and throws away the key, “shutting up.”

“Looks like that didn’t work,” Pidge snarks.

“Paladins,” Allura’s clear commanding voice rings out. When everyone shuts up again, she nods at Keith, “you may continue.”

He looks up at everyone through his bangs, “I’m going through Galra settling.”

Hunk looks over at Allura, who was far more familiar with all this alien mumble jumble than anyone else.

Shiro squeezes Keith’s shoulder.

“And that is,” you prompt gently, before Keith hastily decided that was all he needed to say and left.

He meets your waiting gaze. Under the ship’s bright rooms, his eyes were obviously violet, heavy on the purple. He’s chewing his bottom lip like he isn’t sure he wants to go through with saying any of this and you wonder if he must be thinking of how weird things were between everyone when he learned of the alien part of his heritage.

Your mouth quirks up into a smile.

You were more than willing to stuff someone into a cryopod if they bothered Keith. He may be part of Voltron, tasked with defending the universe, but you’d make sure there was someone to defend him.

An embarrassing rush of heat bubbles under your skin. You look away, nervous.

“Shiro,” Keith asks.

Shiro nods, wrapping his arms fully around Keith’s shoulder. “Galra settling is when Galra,” he looked like he was trying to figure out exactly what he was talking about as he said it. Aliens were weird. “When Galra reach a certain age their appearance locks in.” Even Shiro looks a little puzzled. He was a pilot, not a biologist. You knew organisms back on earth who could manipulate their genotypes, generally sex changes with the right environmental conditions, but you weren’t sure there was anything comparable to whatever this was. “The Galra are apparently very adaptable in individuals. That’s why there’s such a range of them.”

Huh.

That explained the fur, range of tails, more reptilian looking once, and the eyes.

You wanted a Galra biology course, a full semester long one. What exactly caused such a plasticity in their phenotype? Did the trait have to be encoded in their genotype to appear or was there something freakier, Allura’s space magic, going on?

“-because he’s half human and we don’t go through anything like this it’s more painful than it would be. Lotor said the chameleonic abilities of Alteans helped him when he went through this,” Shiro finishes without a satisfying or thorough explanation.

At least Keith wasn’t dying.

Thank god.

Thank whatever freaky Altean magic existed in the universe.

“So,” Lance starts, “it’s Galra puberty.”

In a split second Keith loses any self consciousness about the situation, “it’s not Galra puberty!” His hair puffs up and you have to fight the urge to laugh, covering your face with your hands.

“There’s…” Shiro glances at Keith, before Lance and Keith could really get into it, “there’s more.”

Keith looks mullish, but ultimately gives Shiro the go ahead.

“Part of these..changes,” the black paladin explains, “have brought out some Galra instincts.” Clearly he was having as much trouble grappling with what this meant as Keith was. Your body suddenly deciding to change was no fun when you had no context for it. “Among them, the need to scent family…”

Pidge tilts her head, “is this like the most convoluted and emotionally constipated way of asking for a hug,” she asks Keith.

Keith smiles wryly, “pretty much.”

“Oh come here dude,” Hunk grins, engulfing Keith and Shiro in a hug.

“Ah number four,” Coran points up in the air, “I am now just recalling the galra that lived on Altea having explained this once, of course it didn’t occur to me because of the apparent dominance of your human genes.”

“So they’re actually co-dominant,” you muse as Lance drags Pidge along for a “group hug!”

“No.no,” Pidge makes a half-hearted effort to wiggle out, being a younger sibling herself, was used to being subjected to affection. She smiles even as she struggles.

“It would seem so,” Coran nods, “though not every gene.”

“Just these.” You wonder if there’s a space equivalent of the human genome project.

“Lance,” Keith yelps, “that’s my foot.”

“Buddy, I am not feeling the love here.”

“Is it working,” Hunk asks, peering at Keith, “are you going to turn purple now?”

“No one turns purple from hugs,” Keith replies, annoyed but makes no move to pull away.

“Thank you for trusting us with this Keith,” Allura smiles, her eyes crinkling.

“Get in on this too Princess,” Shiro motions over, before catching your gaze, “you too. Don’t think you can get out of this. You’re part of Voltron too.”

You snort, and join the group hug.

Pidge’s elbow is a bony thorn in your side and there’s the slight hum from Shiro’s prosthetic, but it’s a good mix of warmth and intimacy with the people you were closest to in the entire universe. Allura’s shoulder presses into you back and it’s sort of ballooned to ridiculous proportions, Keith somewhere in the center of it all, his hair barely visible to you.

“Add cuddling Keith to the chore wheel,” Pidge proposes.

Keith groans.

“How about we let Keith decide,” Shiro proposes.

You snort, knowing him too well. “Are you willing to take that risk? Died-from lack of hugs.”

Lance laughs.

Shiro looks convinced by your stellar argument.

“I’m not that bad,” Keith grumbles.

“You’re a terrible hugger,” Lance argues back. “You’re all stiff, like you’re enduring one of Iverson’s paradox sims. Not as bad as my abuelo but still.”

Keith lunges for Lance.

Someone topples over.

Everyone falls.

You laugh, smothered by limps and someone’s hair in your mouth…maybe Hunk’s? You don’t move, worried about kicking someone’s head.

From somewhere, Keith does that low rumbling chest noise that reminds you of a cat purring happily.

No one makes fun of him for it.

——————

“You should comb your hair before we take the pod down,” you tell Keith. You’d spent your free time before this alliance dinner scrolling through a datapad, trying to learn names, where they hailed from, species, things that may prove useful.

Half a varga ago, Keith had found you balled up on a sofa, and sat next to you, his way of asking for physical comfort. You’d obliged him readily, throwing an arm over his shoulders and spooning him as you both laid on the sofa. He was already in the paladin uniforms that Allura had dug out once the alliance became a reality instead of a loose string of rebel groups fighting the Galra empire.

You’re both short and slight, fitting together perfectly.

You squash any feelings you have, this wasn’t about you, it was about him. You’d done it a thousand times with Hunk or Lance, fallen asleep listening to Allura, why should Keith be any different? (You know why.)

He’s reading the screen with you.

“I doubt they’d notice,” he remarks as you scroll to a particularly vivid color alien race with sensory appendages sprouting from their heads.

“You have a point desert bum,” you tease, “I’d rather be a bum by a beach town. All surfer bro.”

“Can you even surf,” he asks flatly.

“No. Learned how to swim at the garrison,” you admit. “But tanning by the water has to be more appealing than roasting under the Texas sun.”

“I like the desert.”

“I know.” You were pretty sure everyone just liked their homes.

“It’s quiet,” he admits, “and watching how the sunlight transforms the landscape…”

“It’s too big and wide,” you admit, thinking of space. Flat land that went on forever…empty dark space that went on forever.

“Good for driving,” Keith smirks.

You laugh. Or course that’s where his mind went. “Sure, but it all looks the same, everywhere you turn.” It was disorienting. To be fair, you were a city girl. Your background noise was cars honking and people yelling even at four in the morning. The garrison had been a big adjustment.

“It’s really not. You just have to look.”

“I’ll trust my gps,” you counter, “not my sense of direction. I’d probably end up one of those cautionary tales about mirages and deserts.”

“You can’t really get a good signal,” Keith replies lazily, his body slack against yours, “out there. It’s best to mark a trail with chalk if you don’t know the area.”

“But you do, know it I mean?”

“Out past the Garrison? Mhm. All of it. We used to go hiking…before,” he trails off.

You press your lips to his hair lightly, before shifting, “my arms asleep.”

“Sorry.”

“I don’t mind.” You sit up, “it’s nice. I used to put my sister to sleep this one year she had nightmares almost every night.”

“You miss her,” Keith states, sitting up, looking at you with his intense expression. Having someone focused one hundred percent on you was a new experience. He wasn’t thinking of a thousand other things, just you.

“I do. I miss everyone, but,” you shrug, “I’ll see them again. Meanwhile you’re stuck with me.” You smile fondly at Keith. “I’m going to change before we have to go to dinner.”

“I’d take fighting Zarkon anyday,” Keith mutters, cringing at the upcoming show of diplomacy. There was so much smiling and hand shaking. It was exhausting to be that extroverted with a roomful of strangers.

Even Lance zonked out after these things.

“Knock on wood,” you laugh.

_____________

Treaties have been signed. A wrecked Galra fleet floats in space above the planet your on today, but today’s battle is won.

One of Lotor’s General’s is here, Acza. She’s wary, and surprised at the warm reception she’d received. She might be Galra, but she’d been crucial in taking down the Galra base’s shields. Biolocks, Zarkon should really rethink those.

You sip at your thick drink, warm and flavored like cinnamon oatmeal, that chases off the chill of the night. The idea had been to sleep, your hands still ached from all the sutures and stitches you’d woven, but Allura refused to hear it, dragging you along. There would be time for sleep on the Castle, she’d claimed, joyous to have helped another besieged planet.

“My congratulations,” a Blade utters from behind their glowing mask.

You jump, not having known there was even a Blade here. They were allies, yet their anonymity that made them so useful in information gathering, created a gap between you. You had no way of knowing who this person was. Their suit obscuring any details, the mask a rank.

You couldn’t even see their eyes.

“For what,” you ask, puzzled. You hadn’t fought. Your skills made you most useful after the battle, trying to save lives and patch up wounds. It was important and emotional draining work, but you hardly won battles.

Because of the mask, you can’t get a read on their reaction. Blades. Spies. Maybe if you could see their eyes…

They nod, and walk off without explanation.

You watch them go, still confused until they disappear among the bodies loitering around, celebrating liberation.

It was a feat to disappear when you were eight feet tall.

First the Galra had avoided you like the plague, the black plague, now they were being cryptic as fuck.

You lean your head down, trying to sniff your armpits without making it too obvious. Was it the blood? Or the space bleach? That tended to linger.

You didn’t smell that bad. Certainly like bleach and rubbing alcohol…

You take another sip of your drink, looking around for a place to sit. You’d been on your feet for too long. You wanted to sleep.

Someone would find you.

You wander around. Smiling when someone notices you, and thanks you and you hurry to get away before they ask you a hundred questions. There were only eight humans in space. Well, seven and a half. You stood out.

They wanted Voltron, but you would do.

“There’s space here,” Acxa calls out.

“Thanks,” you plop down next to her, sagging into the seat. Oh, yeah, you were so freaking tired.

“Of course. You look dead.”

“Yeah,” you look around the rebel camp, “I’ve no clue how they have the energy.”

“It’s like that everywhere. This is their home,” Acza offers, “people fight hard for their homes.”

You nod, before looking over at the alien woman, “not avoiding me anymore then?”

She shrugs, not disputing the allegation. “No need anymore, now that you and Keith sorted yourselves out.” She’s so blunt about it. “Galra are so sensitive when settling. We didn’t want to cause any incidents.”

“Is this about the scenting?” You still hadn’t had time to read through the information you’d gotten your grubby little hands on.

She nods.

You put your drink down on the mossy ground. “Yeah, Keith explained it. Well, Shiro did, really. Lance is over the moon about having an excuse to bother Keith.” Now you really all were a family. You’d named it outloud.

Acxa’s brows furrow, “Lance?”

“I think he just misses his family a lot,” you offer. “We all do and while we’re family too, it’d be nice to see our family back on earth too.”

She frowns. “Keith and you are not,” she asks slowly.

“Me and Keith,” you flush, ducking away from her. “No-I, no. We’re not.” You should’ve gone back to the Castle the moment Allura turned her back. She would’ve never known.

Acxa’s frown becomes tinged with anger and worry, her hand grabs your wrist. “Galra have more than one type of scenting, between families, and between partners.”

“Oh.”

You try to connect the dots but your brain gets stuck between ideas. Scenting. Keith. You. You and Keith. It was right there but-

“Keith isn’t marking you as family,” she explains slowly, “he’s marking you as his partner.” Acxa waits until her words sink in before adding, “to do so without letting the other know…” She makes it clear what a social taboo that is.

But you’re one step behind her.

Did Keith like you?

You think back to all the times you’d been with him in the past few vargas, trying to pinpoint any hint: he’d smiled at you but he was happier now in general so it could be a coincidence…

“If you need,” Acxa offers, “I will help clarify the situation.” It’s an awfully kind gesture.

“No,” you say in a rush. “no. It’s-I think I need to go talk to Keith.” He’d known what he was doing…you could draw a thousand conclusions but nothing would be better than confronting him about it.

“If you’re sure.”

“I am,” you stand up, glancing around. During parties, Keith tended to find a quiet corner out of the way. He’d opened up, but he was still more of an introvert.

You find Keith lying stretched out in the shadow of a makeshift building, looking up at the stars. It’s his eyes that give him away, reflecting the light enough to be inhuman, nocturnal vision.

“We need to talk,” you wrap your arms around your body. You weren’t angry, just confused. Didn’t he know he could just come talk to you about it by now?  

Keith looks up, startled, then stands. “Alright.” He sounds resigned, a man sentenced to detention for a month which was janitorial duties at the garrison. It kept even the most smartass cadets humble.

You look around.

No one was really here. You could hear the music and people a bit further into the heart of the camp. Here was good enough.

“I talked to Acxa,” you start, “she said-” you look down at the trampled vegetation underfoot. It was embarrassing to your human preconceptions to even think, let alone say, which was why you were pretty sure Keith didn’t mean any harm. Scenting meant nothing on earth, where he’d grown up. “She said you’ve been scenting me, which like I know but not that way?” You look up at him as realization sets in and he ducks his head, looking away. “Is it true?”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “I-,” he takes a deep breath before ranting, the agitation and months of buried emotions flooding out, “I hate this. I hate that I can hear the conversation outside and smell which direction  Shiro’s in and how much my eyes hurt on the Castle from how bright it is but I don’t-I can’t say anything because I’m already enough of a freak. Before I was just the weird kid but now I’m just a fucking alien freak! There’s always so much going on and I don’t even know what’s next!”

You wait, wondering if there was more.

It was a lot of changes.

You couldn’t understand, there was nothing in your life comparable to your biology deciding to be a little more Galra after twenty years.

“And I tried not to-,” he admits, meeting your waiting gaze, “I tried to leave everyone alone so you wouldn’t,” Keith swallows, forcing himself to continue with an obvious disgust at himself, “you wouldn’t smell like me or whatever Lotor explained but I couldn’t-it was driving me crazy like this itch, this buzzing under my skull and seeing you guys with others-I thought I was going crazy until Lotor explained. And then when Lance would ruffle my hair or you would check that I wasn’t about to fall over and die and-,” he waves his hands in the air, “I would just zone out.”

“Oh,” you utter, recalling past events with a newfound understanding. Keith had been reaching out, all instinct even when he was trying not to be a bother. It broke your heart, how he always came from the perspective that he was an inconvenience.

“I did know,” he says in a small voice. “That-you…but I don’t know if it’s me or this, or all these things happening to me.”

Your expression wobbles. You bite your lower lip, trying to get a handle on it. How silly to worry about a crush when Keith was going through it.

“I like you, but I don’t know if I like you or if it’s just these stupid Galra instincts messing with my head.” Keith deflates, drawing into himself. “Everything

s…it’s been a lot.”

“I get it,” you utter, “maybe not the situation but I’m not mad. Though Acxa was ready to kick your ass and she totally could,” you try teasing.

But Keith flinches, looking away guiltily.

“I’m joking. I-I get why. It makes sense. It’s a lot to get used to.” You swallow, not sure what to do about anything either.

“Its a huge offence,” Keith utters, “that’s why she was pissed. Made worse because you can’t even tell…I-I couldn’t think straight and I…it took the edge off.”

“Scenting me?”

He nods.

You take a step towards him.

“I-,” Keith’s eyes meet yours, his attention entirely captivated by you. It sends a thrill down your spine. You’d seen how he could be when laser focused: on piloting, on training. “I know they say it’s wrong but you and Lance do stuff like that all the time. And I thought…I figured I could figure out how much of what I’m feeling is me and how much of it are these new instincts.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you tell him. “I-you’re right, it’s whatever to me. Like, a Blade congratulated me earlier which was weird but fuck them you know? I can ‘smile and nod’,” you smile as fakely as possible to show what you mean, “through it so long as you’re okay.” He’d bled in your lap.

Keith looks a little unsteady, unsure what to do with your lack of anger. “You don’t-”

“So is it like galra marriage then?” You were curious as to what exactly the Blades were going to gossip about you and Keith.

He makes a choked sound. “Sort of. They bond. It can be broken but that generally means someone killed the other.”

“Let me guess,” you reply, “Zarkon fucked even that up.”

Keith nods.

“That guy’s the worst.” Your voice is light.

Keith snorts, smiling for a split second. “I won’t anymore. I’ll-”

“Keith,” your voice cracks as you out your hand on his arm to keep him from rubbing off, “if its really causing you all this additional confusion in too of everything…you can…” the words were too intimate to say, too charged with a sensuality that he clearly was figuring out. You were willing to wait. For him.

He was conflicted enough without you dumping your feelings on him.

“You don’t-”

You raise your hand, caressing the side of his face with the back of your hand, ghosting over the purple mark on his cheek, “I don’t mind.” Sure, you had a crush on him, you could admit that much, but more simply, you loved him.

This was a small ask.

Your gaze flickers to the tips of his ears.

You had washed his blood off your hands.

“Besides, shit’s hard enough. My arm falling asleep is a small price to pay if I can help you.”

Keith’s mouth quirks up in a smile.

You laugh, “come here.”

It finally sinks in that you weren’t just talking bs. You meant it, as you hug Keith, wrapping your arms around his middle. He smelled good in spite of the battle he’d been through earlier.

Without really thinking, you breathe in the scent of him.

Keith hugs you back, cuddling you against his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You yawn. “want to sneak back into the castle?”

“Only if you tell Allura you’re the one who wanted to leave,” he deadpans dazedly.

You laugh.

——————

“Come,” Allura motions as you stand from one of the Castle’s weapons systems, “we must meet with the rebel leadership on planet.”

The planet was a farming camp.

The slaves were overworked and underfed and they had still revolted when they learned Voltron was near. Now, they were free.

“Princess,” Coran calls out, “it appears that number four is heading back to the ship.”

A pained expression crosses Allura’s broad features, her full mouth frowning, before she decides to pick her battles for the day. “I am sure Keith has a good reason for his actions.” She sounds like she’s trying to convince herself.

You don’t want to go down there either.

This entire last week had been spent synthesizing medicine and treating thousands of people made harder by the range of species. The garrison better give you that medical degree immediately.

“I’ll go check on him,” you say automatically, “he might need me to prep a pod.”

“Fantastic idea number five,” Coran believes your excuse.

“Let us know if anything happens,” Allura says, giving you a long look, before heading for the exit.

The central Galra soldiers had been taken out, but small bands of fighters were still fighting to their last breath. It’s why Voltron has remained on the planet.

The lions had roamed the landscape answering calls for aid and hunting down the last of Zarkon’s forces here.

You meet Keith in the red lion’s hanger.

He’s popping his helmet off, running a hand through his flattened hair. “I thought you were headed out with Allura?”

You shrug, suddenly feeling awkward. “I was, but I wanted to check on you first.” That was a normal thing to do for your friends. There was no reason to overthink things.

“I’m fine.”

He sets the helmet aside, working on undoing the armor off. There was dirt and dust but thankfully no blood to speak of, his or otherwise.

“Then I’ll see you there,” you ask.

Keith looks over, a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar, his smile slight when he replies, “I’m not heading there.” Blunt. Concise.

“It is depressing,” you admit. There was so much resource allocation and need planet-wide.

He raises a brow. “Oh. Yeah.”

“Keith?” Now you’re wondering what the real problem was. “What is it?”

“Does it matter. I don’t need to be there. Shiro and Allura can handle it.” He looks away, suddenly very interested in the wall. Unlike the rest of the ship, the red lion’s hanger was dim, in a permanent night cycle.

Pidge’s work.

“I think the people would like all of Voltron present.” Then you make a face, “oh god, I sound just like Allura don’t I?”

Keith laughs, “just a bit. As long as you don’t make us all meditate…”

“It’s so boring. I fall asleep.” You smile softly, “Seriously, go down for a moment. Then you can hide out here.”

“I-I’d rather not.” He shifts uncomfortably. “Four out of five is is fine.”

“I’m sure they’ll understand,” you agree.

“I’m sure they’ll be glad.”

“Keith-” you start, knowing he already felt hyper aware of how his appearance had changed. Before, it hadn’t really ever come up outside of the team. No one would tell and if Keith wasn’t vocal about it…now everyone in the entire universe probably knew.

There were rebel Galra, mostly in prisons and work camps. Feelings varied.

“That’s not true,” you say, not sure if it was true, “you helped free them.” You shift your weight onto your other foot, “there’s a few assholes everywhere.”

He gives you a long look. “The Galra enslaved all these people.”

“Pfft,” you wave off, “you look like one sixteenth Galra. And-”

“They stare.”

“Because you’re a paladin,” you reason. “Pidge is also cranky about the attention.”

Keith sighs.

The paladin armor lies in a discarded pile.

You step forward to him, “anyone would be lucky to have you as a pilot. And Voltron sort of lucked out when the red lion chose you.”

Keith’s eyes widen as he looks at you, pink dusting his cheeks.

In for a penny, in for a pound, you lean forward and kiss his cheek, ghosting over his skin, “face marks and all.” You can’t meet his gaze when you pull away, blushing fiercely.

Why did you do that!

God, you were so dumb-

He cups your cheeks and brushes his lips over yours.

Oh! Oh.

“Is-is this okay-,” Keith starts asking.

You feel giddy, smiling before kissing him. Yeah, it was okay.

[silverineontherun]

A list of some of my VLD fics

Heya! I’ve seen some new people following me here and I thought it’d be good to greet you all first! So, hi! I’m Mila, AKA Silverine on AO3, and I love writing for VLD, klance being the owners of my heart. I decided to rec some of my own klance fics for those who may be interested, since I haven’t updated my fic masterpost in a looong while 😅 here we go!

fake, not fate || One-shot, post s5, T rated || Canonverse, Soulmates AU, Fake dating, Fake marriage, Marry or die, Mind reading (a lot, I know)

Lance messes up during a mission and crashes into a sacred place. As if that wasn't bad enough, he can't leave unless his soulmate comes and marries him in a... questionable ceremony. Well, he just has to fake a relationship with any of his friends and get over with it... right?

it’s the little things || One-shot, s6, T rated || Quantum Abyss, Keith and Krolia bonding, pining Keith

Keith and Krolia share a moment in the Quantum Abyss, discussing Keith's feelings for Lance.

a gold for a gold || One-shot, Modern AU, T rated || Divers!klance, Proposal fic

At the World Championship, the Kogane-McClain team is about to participate in the high diving competition, but one of the team members is more anxious than he should. The gold medal is not the only gold at stakes here...

5 reasons to stay || Incomplete 4/6, post s6, T rated || Kinda fix it, canonverse, road trip shenanigans, feelings realization.

After their scarring battle against Lotor, Lance gets sick and he confesses to Keith he just wants to go home. But now that Keith has found his own peace, he will try to convince Lance during the long road back to not quit by showing him a few reasons to stay around. Five curious, bizarre reasons, to be exact.

that’s you in the mirror || Complete, 7/7, post s7, T rated || Body Swap, canonverse, Garrison, mutual pining, mentions of allurance (no real romance as in canon)

While trying to understand the mystery of the fallen Altean, Lance and Keith suffer a magical accident and end up swapping bodies. It’s definitely not the best moment for any of them-- not while they’re coming to terms with the confusing feelings they have developed for each other.

you’re always welcome here || Complete, 3/3, post canon, M rated || PTSD depictions, mild smut, Farmer Lance (gets better), family bonding, team bonding, Near-death experiences, feelings realization, Pining Keith, Healing Lance (altean marks and canon compliant, I’m sorry if it’s not your jam).

An unexpected tragedy that occurs during his work hits Keith harder than expected, and his fellow Blades decide it’s time for their leader to go back home. But... what is “home” exactly? Is it a what, or is it a who?

I’m particularly proud of the last one, just so you know lol. I’d also like to recommend these two for other ships:

Because summer will come || Shatt, one-shot, Modern AU || Writer!Shiro x Editor!Matt.

Matthew Holt is a young and enthusiastic editor for Altea Publishing House, a renowned editorial company. Being assigned to his favorite writer ever, Matt is delighted to finally meet the idol he imagines as an old, kind gentleman… but Mr. Kuron, A.K.A. Takashi Shirogane, is not what he expected at all, and his wish to make him write a bestseller at any cost could be the biggest challenge of his career... and also his personal life.

Two of Cups (Say You’ll Be Back) || Romellura, one-shot, Modern AU || Psychic!Allura x Normal Pining Lesbian! Romelle (lol)

Romelle had a friend at school who had a very special ability: she could see the future and warn people about future events. However, their friendship ended abruptly when Allura suddenly disappeared from her life, giving her her first heartbreak. But a decade later, a certain tarotist appears in town, and Romelle’s life may take a strange turn...

If you check any of these, I really hope you enjoy them! I still write for klance so if you have prompts there’s a chance I’ll take it if I have enough time :D

[chancellormatt]

Voltron Rewrite Episode Twelve - The Trials of Leadership

Lotor, pilot of Sincline, wakes up. He groans, and tries to rise, but finds himself strapped down to the bed he is in.

“...you aren’t going anywhere, anytime soon.” A voice says.

Sincline Lotor looks up, to see Allura standing over his bed, looking down with hard eyes. The other Paladins are gathered as well. Lance and Pidge have bandages from where they were wounded fighting.

“...what happened?” Sincline Lotor asks in a hoarse voice.

“You grew mad with power. Or...maybe you were always like that.” She replies coldly. “You got yourself stuck in the quintessence field, and we left you behind.”

“...how long?”

Allura hesitates for a moment. “...more than thirty quintants.”

“Thirty quinants…” Lotor muses. “...I want to see.”

“See…?”

“Do not play games with me.” Lotor says in a voice that is half cough, half growl. “I am not fool enough to believe that a man can spent that long in the quintessence field and suffer no consequences.”

Allura bites her lip. “...fine.”

She leaves the bed for a moment, then comes back with a hand mirror. For the first time since leaving the quintessence field, Lotor sees himself.

His skin, once a fairly light purple, is now much darker shade. Twin marks trail down all the way down either side of his face. His eyes now glow with a violet hue. He is the spitting image of Zarkon.

Lotor closes his eyes, gritting his teeth. “...why did you bring me back?”

“Technically, we didn’t. Zarkon did.”

“Zarkon is dead!” Lotor hisses.

“Yes.” Allura admits. “The Zarkon of our reality is.”

He opens his eyes, and stares. “The...no...no, that couldn’t…of course. Voltron. The Comet. I should have figured this could happen. Tell me everything.”

Allura’s eye twitches with annoyance. Keith, seeing this, jumps in.

“The short of it is that Zarkon, in his own Voltron carved his way into this reality. He’s taken over much of remains of the Galra Empire. And...he is using the Alteans from the colonies as weapons.”  

Lotor does not comment on this. Instead, he asks: “What will you do with me?”

“We haven’t decided yet.” Keith says.

“Typical. You Paladins always did have difficulty doing what needed to be done.”

“Is that what you call it!?” Allura nearly takes a step towards him, but Keith holds her back.

“Enough. If you have nothing of value to offer Lotor, then we’ll just lock you up and figure out what to do with you when all this is over.”

“That would be a mistake. You should free me.”

“And why would we do that?” Keith asks, narrowing his eyes.

“You don’t trust me. Understandable. But if you do not trust my word, you can at least know one thing for sure: No one, not in all the cosmos, wants Zarkon dead more than I. And unlike all of you, I’ve actually succeeded in the task of killing him once before.”

Keith looks away, uncertainty on his face.

“...fine. Go on then. Leave me locked up. When you’re ready to get your hands dirty, you know where to find me.”

The Paladins share a series of awkward glances. All except Allura, who continues to stare at Lotor with scorn.

***

“Well he sure hasn’t changed.” Keith says, walking outside the room.

“Yeah,” Lance pipes up. “He’s still totally a jerk. By the way anyone else find it weird that we just fought another version of him from-”

“He’s worse than just a jerk.” Allura huffs. “He’s a monster. I can’t believe the alteans of the Colony worship him.”

“It's all they know.” Keith points out.

“I know.” She sighs. “That’s the problem.”

With that Allura walks away. Keith makes as if follow her, but hesitates. He shakes his head, then turns to the others. “We should try to figure out our next plan of attack. For that we’re going to need information. Pidge, did you managed to get anything off the data you snatched?”

“Most of the juicy stuff seems to be heavily encrypted, so unfortunately I don’t have much.” Pidge explains. “I’m going to get to work on a decryption, but that might take a while.”

“Alright, let me know when you have something. Everyone else...I guess just take some time to relax or whatever else you wanna do, just stay alert. I want us to be able to move on a moment’s notice.”

“Roger that.” Hunk says saluting.

“Yeah, yeah.” Lance waves a dismissive hand.

Keith nods to them. “If anyone needs me, I’m going to be talking to the warlords in their camp outside. I guess there’s been some kind of trouble lately, and I’m kind of afraid to find out what it is.” Keith almost seems to shiver.

The other three Paladins wave to Keith as he departs.

“Welp,” Hunk says, “I promised my family I’d eat with them when I got back, so I’ll see you guys layer.”

And with that he departs. Leaving only Lance and Pidge. Silence swallows the hallway, as the two struggle to look everywhere but at each other. Lance clears his throat awkwardly. Pidge shifts with discomfort.

“-I” They both start to say.

The two share a grimace. Lance motions for Pidge to go on.

“I...should really get to work on that decryption.” She manages to get out.

“Oh...uh, yeah you should go do that then. I’m uh...gonna go see if Keith needs help with the...thing.”

“G-good.” Pidge stammers “...have fun.”

“I...will.” Lance nods far too formally.

They turn and walk in opposite directions, as fast as humanly possible.

“Hey Keith, wait up!” Lance yells.

Keith stops and turns, bearing a curious expression.

“Need help with that stuff with the galra?”

“Uh-”

“Of course you do!” Lance says, throwing an arm over the other boy’s shoulder. “Let’s get to it.”

“Ri...right.” Keith says, looking thoroughly confused.

***

The Twins of the altean Colony are ushered inside a Garrison cell, by a pair of guards. The door hisses shut behind them. The Twins take stock of the room, and quickly notice the cell’s other inhabitants.

“Vatta!” Dramor exclaims.

The girl stands bolt upright, and the two dash into an embrace.

“...I thought you were dead.” Dramor eventually says.

“I thought I’d never see you again.” She says into his chest.

Dramor pulls back, and looks down at her with concern. “...what have they done to you?”

Vatta hesitates. “...nothing, actually.”

Lagmor steps forward, confusion on his face. “They haven’t harmed any of you?”

“Yet.” says Gratva in a gruff voice. The older altean sits in one corner of the room with a sour expression. “Give ‘em time. They’ll be torturing the information out of us before long. Probably were just waiting to get there hands on more of us.”

“Yes...you probably are right…” Lagmor says, thoughtfully.

Dramor’s eyes grow hard, and he looks down at Vatta whom he still holds. “I won’t let them.”

“And how you gonna stop ‘em?” Gratva asks.

“I...don’t know.” Dramor admits after a moment.

“Escape?” Lagmor says in a low voice.

Gratva scoffs. “They haven’t let us out since they put us in here. Face it kiddos, we’re at their mercy. At least until Lotor comes to rescue us.”

“Yes…” Dramor says, troubled. Vatta squeezes his hand comfortingly. It softens the hardness of the boy’s expression, but does not dispel it entirely.

The alteans grow silence, with each of them dwelling on the words spoken.

***

Pidge sits down at a computer. She pulls out the small drive out of her pocket. She reached to insert it, but cringes from the pain in her shoulder. She switches the drive to her other hand and inserts it into the computer. She types into the command prompt, “run decryption.”

Decryption running… The computer reads out.

A loading bar along with a time estimation appears.

This task should be completed in: 48 hours.

Pidge lets out a long sigh. She shifts in her seat. Then gets up and paces. After a minute of this, she leans over to look at the screen. The load time had not changed.

Pidge lets out a huff. She grabs a stick note off a nearby table and writes: “Do not touch!!” on it. Then she sticks the note on the computer, before walking back out of the room.

Pidge walks through the hallways, alone, looking bored. She nearly walks into Allura when she turns a corner.

“Oh, Pidge.” Allura says, a little startled.

“Allura.” Pidge nods. “What’s goin’ on?”

“I was just…” Allura gets a distant look. “...gathering my thoughts. I think I might go try to talk to alteans again. It seems a futile gesture, but leaving them alone seems worse.” She shakes her head, as if clearing away a mental fog. “Sorry, I’m sure you have duties to attend to without me holding you up.”

“Not really.” Pidge shrugs. “The decryption of those files I stole is gonna take another two days. I’m not supposed to exert myself too hard because of my shoulder, so it's not like I can train or anything. For once, I’m not really sure what to do with myself.”

“I see…” Allura studies the other girl for a moment. She opens her mouth to say something, then hesitates.

“Come on, out with it.” Pidge urges.

“...very well. I was wondering if you would like to join me. In talking to the alteans, I mean.”

Pidge looks at her dubiously. “Why would you want me there for that? It's not like I know anything about altean culture.”

“No, and maybe that’s a good thing. I think...I could use a fresh look on this situation. You aren’t as close to this, so maybe you’ll look at it more objectively than me. Besides, you are the smartest person I know.”

Pidge scoffs. “I’m smart with computers and tech. People...not so much.”

“My point still stands. You might be able to see this from an angle that I won’t.”

Pidge thinking about it for a moment, then shrugs. “Alright. I did say I wasn’t busy.”

“Let’s get to it, then.” Allura says, standing up a bit straighter.

The two girls walk down the hall, together.

***

Keith and Lance step outside, to be met with the sight of the new Castle of Lions. The construction appears to be nearing its completion, and the Castle now towers over the base below it.

“Woah.” Lance says.

“Yeah. It's really coming together.”

“You can say that again.” Lance stares up, and siles slightly. “Takes you back a bit doesn’t it?”

“...sure does.” Keith smirks and shakes his head. “Come on.”

He leads Lance to the base of the Castle, where a camp has been set up. Under one makeshift pavillion, Coran stands in front of a holotable, opposite Skriel.

“Ah, hello there Keith.” Coran greets.

“Grant Regent!” Skriel says, bowing.

Lance rolls his eyes.

“How are things coming along, guys?” Keith asks

“Splendidly!” Skriel proclaimers. “I never thought an altean would have much of anything of value to say, but shockingly this one isn’t a complete idiot! This altean modular tech has opened up some interesting possibilities.”

Coran raises an eyebrow and strokes his mustache. “Well I’d never consider a galra to be a reliable source of information, but Skriel here, actually had a decent idea or two. We might even be onto some sort of...collaborative effort.”

“Sounds like you guys are getting along well…” Keith hesitates. “...I’m more concerned by the ones that aren’t getting along so well.”

Skriel shuffles uncomfortably. Coran massages his mustache, with a troubled expression.

Lance only looks confused. “Wait, what’s going on? Who’s not getting along?”

“There have been some, totally and completely minor...disagreements between the men.” Coran says.

“You see, they don’t seem to like us warlords and our men. Especially those Blades of whatchamacallit. They’re far too uptight if you ask me. So we were all trying to kill each other up until a dozen quintents ago? Get over it already.”

Keith sighes. “Where’s Kolivan? Or my mom?”

“Both out on mission, I’m afraid.” Coran shrugs. “Always work to do.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” Keith shakes his head. “I’m not sure what to do about this.”

“Why not just talk to them?” Lance asks. “I bet they’ll stop if you order them to cut that crap out.”

“I’m not their leader, Lance. The warlords might follow me, and I am one of the Blades. But I’m not their leader, Kolivan. He respects me as head of Voltron, but that's not the same as being in command of the whole Blade of Marmora.”

“Whatever you say.” Lance sighs.

“Besides…” Keith turns to face Skriel. “...somehow I don’t think these ‘disagreements’ are entirely one sided.”

Skriel looks offended. “Are you implying that my men would ever be anything lower than absolutely profession when interacting with-”

“Yes.”

“Okay you’ve got me. The conflicts are coming from both sides. But Grand Regent, I really think you are more worried about this, than is necessary. Both our men, and the Blades are galra. We fight, it's what we do.”

“Not with allies. The next time this happens, let me know.”

“Very well, Grand Regent.” Skriel bows again.”Your wish is our command.”

Another eye-roll from Lance. Keith nods to Skriel and Coran, then walks outside. Lance follows him.

“Must be nice having people bowing and calling you ‘Grand Regent,’ huh?” Lance says after a moment.

“Not really.” Keith sighs. “But I guess someone’s gotta do it.”

Lance looks at him sidelong. “Still, if you’re gonna be in charged, you might as well have fun with it.”

Keith opens his mouth to reply, but never gets a chance.

“Keith!” Ryner yells, running over to meet them.

“What’s up?” Keith asks.

“We’re having a bit of a resource crisis. You see with the construction of the Castle, we’re running low on jump-projectors for repairs on the rest of the ships.”

“We’ll...go take a look. Might not be able to fix everything right now, but we can at least prioritize.”

“Alright. This way.”

Ryner starts to move, with Keith and Lance in tow.

“Still think I got much time for fun on the job?”

Lance only snorts.

***

Allura and Pidge step inside the cell. All of the alteans stand bolt upright. Their stances are still, their eyes distructful.

“Hello.” Allura greets awkwardly.

The only reply is a snort from Gratva. Pidge narrows her eyes at him.

“I am Princess Allura, for those of you that don’t know me.” She nods to the Twins. “And this is my friend, Pidge.”

“Hey.” Pidge says.

The alteans do not reply.

“Are you all...well?” Allura says, floundering.

“...are we well?” Gratva laughs. “That’s rich coming from the woman holding us captive. As if you care.”

“I do, believe it or not.” She replies, stiffly.

“Do you honestly expect us to believe that?” Lagmor speaks up. “We know of the the evils you have commited. We have heard plenty from Lotor.”

“Then tell me just what sort of horrors we are guilty of? We stood up when no one else would. We fought against the galra empire, and freed countless of worlds. And we brought dozens of different peoples together, so that when all of this is over, we can unite under the banner of peace.”

“How about when you abandoned the altean people?” Lagmor askes.

Allura hesitates. “I did not-”

“Yes,” Dramor sneers, “where were you when altea was destroyed? Did you stay and fight then? Or did you leave us all for ten thousand years, until it was convenient for you?”

“I did not-”

“Face it, Princess!” Gratva cuts her off. “You will never steal our loyalty for Lotor!”

Allura eyes fill with pain, and she looks down.

Gratva smiles. “We will never turn our backs on Lotor! Everything we have is because of him! He is our savior! Our-”

“Where is he right now?” Pidge says suddenly.

Gratva opens his mouth to reply, but Pidge beats hi to it.

“Because the way I see it, he sent all of your on missions doomed to fail, then never bothered to try and rescue you. Did you even know that the other pilots had survived before getting here?”

Dramor glances at Vatta, who stares back at him.

“Lotor...he has the entire universe to save! He cannot concern himself with-”

“Is that what you call it?” Pidge cuts in yet again. “When did saving start with all of you attacking us, unprovoked? When did we ever attack you? Or did you just trust him, when he said we’re ‘the bad guys?’ Did you ever once, question what this was all about? What you were really doing!?”

“Pidge…” Allura starts to say.

Pidge ignores her, looking across the group with a sneer. “Tell me are you all so stupid that you just buy into the first flimsy story you hear? Or are you just so scared of what’s actually staring you right in the face!? Instead you throw insults at the one person in the universe that gives half a damn about any of you lot. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more miserable group of-”

“Pidge!” Allura shouts. “That’s enough!”

Pidge scoffs and turns. “You asked for my opinion? You’re wasting your time on these guys. Let’s them wallow in their delusions.” And before Allura can reply, Pidge whirls around and stalks out of the room.

The alteans can only stare, silenced by Pidge’s tirade. Allura is equally speechless. She looks at the door the girl left through, back to the alteans, then cycles between the two several times.

“If...you’ll excuse me.” Allura gives a short nod then exits the room.

Pidge is still marching down the hall, huffing.

“Pidge wait!” Allura calls after her. “What was all that?”

She stops and turns. “Did you want me to sit there and let them trash you like that?”

“Well...there’s a certain level of tact you have to use when-”

“Oh yeah, they really were responding well to tact.”

Allura cringes. Pidge sighes.

“I know...they’re like your long lost people, or whatever. And I’m sure that you must want to try and gain their trust. But you can only do so much. They’ve been brainwashed for so long, I dunno if they’d even know what to do without their ‘almighty’ Lotor. It's not your fault if they don’t realize that you care about the more than he ever did.” Pidge takes a breath. “So don’t just sit there and take it. You’re better than that. Better than them.”

Allura stares at her for several moments. Pidge shifts uncomfortably, and looks like she might turn to go.

“...I don’t like the way you said it.” Allura says with a sigh. “But I think there may be truth in your words. I can’t make the believe anything. And after so long with Lotor, maybe there isn’t much hope for them. But still...I’m not ready to give up on them. Not just yet.”

“What are you gonna do them?”

“I...don’t know.” Allura admits. “I’ve made all the arguments I can. And as you said, I can’t make them believe anything.”

Pidge hesitates. “...maybe if they don’t respond to words, there’s another way you can convince them?”

Both girls appear to be thinking. As one their eyes widen with inspiration.

***

“That took longer than I would have liked.” Keith says tiredly, walking through the camp outside the Garrison base.

Lance lets out a long sigh and rubs his eyes. “I don’t ever want to look at another ship manifest again.”

“You’re the one that volunteered.”

“Yeah and what was I gonna leave once it looked like trouble? I’ve still got my pride as a man.” Despite this, Lance plops himself down onto a nearby metal crate.

Keith remains standing. “At least we’re finally...done…” His voice gets distant, as he notices some kind of commotion across the camp.

“Come on.” Keith suddenly says, taking off at a run.

Lance groans, then rises to follow after Keith. They dash through the camp, passing by countless Coalition soldiers and workers at various tasks. It's not long before they reach the source of the commotion.

A group of ten or so galra fighting each other, encircled by a crowd of watching Coalition personnel. Half of the galra are warlord soldiers, while the other half are Blades of Marmora. Just outside the ring of fighting, galra warlords Ublok and Erva stand watching with what looks like approval.

Keith shoves his way through to the warlords.

“Why haven’t you stopped this!?” Keith demands.

“It is the galra way.” Ublok shrugs.

“It's just some friendly scuffling. They are letting out their anger. You should let them continue.” Evra adds.

“Oh yeah this really looks like a friendly scuffle.” Keith shoots back.

As if on cue, one of the Blades draws a knife. Keith curses, and dashes into the fray, grabbing the man by the hand.

“Stop!” Keith orders.

The fighting continues.

“I SAID STOP!” Keith bellows.

All freeze, looking up to stare at Keith. There is fire in his eyes. “...what are you all doing?”

The group is silent for a moment.

“They started it!” One of the warlord soldiers yells.

“That’s a lie!” A blade replies.

“I don’t care who started it!” Keith cuts in. “You’re allies! Why are you fighting?”

“Allies!?” One of the blades protests. “We fought in this war for centuries! We fought long before anyone else dared, and we risked everything to do it! Then these one’s spend the whole time serving zarkon, then Lotor, and switch sides at the last possible moment!?”

“At least we don’t cower in the dark like you lot!” A warlord soldier retorts.

In spite of Keith’s objections, they look as though they are about to return to fighting. The blast of an energy rifle stops them.

Lance stands with his rifle aimed towards the heavens. He nods to Keith. Keith nods back.

“...it doesn’t matter when you decided to fight back.”

One of the blades starts to object.

“It doesn’t matter.” Keith repeats. “Because in the end, they did.” he nods to the warlord group. “Even after Zarkon returned, with his own Voltron, they chose to side with us. That matters. Is this really how you act when Kolivan is gone? Is this how you honor your leader?”

The Blades look down without answering. Keith turns to the warlord group. “And you!”

The men nearly jump. Ublok and Erva look uncomfortable as well.

“This kind of fighting amongst allies is exactly what was supposed to end when you declared for me. No more groups, no more fighting each other for power. Galra as one people. Even those serving Zarkon now will have their chance after they’ve paid their penance for siding with him. We gain nothing if we fight each other, and stand to lose everything if we do. Is that clear?”

There is a series of mumbled, “yes Grand Regent.” He narrows his eyes at Ublok and Erva. They scramble to bow and repeat the phrase.

“Good. Now unless I’m mistaken, I’m pretty sure you’ve all got work to do.”

The group disperses immediately, with each going their own way. Keith lets out a long sigh.

***

“Where are you taking us, Princess?” Dramor asks.

“To some sort of interrogation, no doubt.” Lagmor says.

“Or maybe she’ll sick the little green one on us again.” Gratva mutters.

A glare from Pidge makes him avert his gaze.

“I am going to show you something, I think you all should see.” Allura states, not rising to the previous comments.

She walks through the Garrison base, alongside Pidge, with the alteans. The latter are in power-cuffs and flanked by guards. The group comes to a metal door at the end of the corridor.

Allura takes a breath before opening the door, allowing the sunlight to spill inside. She steps out followed by Pidge, then with some hesitation, the alteans.

They are immediately met with the sight of the Castle of Lions. Gratva immediately gasps.

“It...it can’t be…” He stammers.

“What? What is this oddly shaped ship?” Lagmor asks.

Gratva shakes his head. “...when I was but a boy my grandmother showed me a painting she’d made of something she’d seen centuries earlier. It was said to be one of the grandest ships ever built: The Castle of Lions. It looks the same, and yet...what is wrong with it?” He looks at Allura with puzzlement.

“Unfortunately, the original Castle of Lions was destroyed. But it's soul was preserved. It's plans and data were sent here, to earth. We have constructed a new Castle from the original design. The effort has been overseen by Coran, the grandson of the original Castle’s architect.”

As if on cue, Coran picks that moment to walk up along with Romelle.

“It's true.” He says. “Although your friend Romelle here has been instrumental in her help.”

A look passes between Romelle and the other colony alteans. It's a look of cautions uncertainty.

Coran pushes onward. “I still remember my grandpapi giving me the inaugural tour of the newly finished Castle of Lions, over ten thousand years ago back...back on altea.”

Gratva says nothing, as he stares at Coran. His gaze inevitably returns to the nearly-completed Castle ship.”

“...this proves nothing.” Dramor says after a moment.

“I agree.” Lagmor says “So you rebuilt an old ship. Anyone can reconstruct something from plans. Even if you are who you say, you are still our enemy.”

“I didn’t show this to convince you of anything.” Allura says, staring at the Castle herself. “I’m not revealing this to you so that you’ll turn coat, and join the fight on our side. I just thought you should see a piece of your own culture. That...and I hope that you’ll realize that while you may not consider me a friend, I am not, nor will I ever be your enemy.”

The alteans are silent. “...would you like to see the inside?” Allura asks after a moment.

Gratva blinks with surprise. “You’d...let us?”

“The guards would have to remain, but yes.” Allura nods.

“Construction is not finished, but most portions of the ship can be toured.” Coran adds.

Gratva hesitates only for a moment. “I...I would like to see that. Very much.”

One by one the other alteans start to voice their agreement. Dramor and Lagmor remain as holdouts.

Dramor looks about to voice an objection, when Vatta tugs on his arm. He looks down at her and something seems to pass between them. Eventually he sighs.

“I...also would like to see the ship.”

Lagmor lets out a sigh of his own. “I suppose I will as well.”

“Very well.” Allura nods to the group. “Coran will show you the way. I do not think it's a great assumption to say that it would be his honor.”

“You are correct, Princess.” Coran smiles.

“You...will not join us?” Vatta asks.

Allura shakes her head. “I would rather that you all have time to think on my words, and be able to see the ship without distraction. Besides…” She looks up at the Castle again. “...I rather think I’ll wait until it's finished.”

Silence hangs only a moment before Coran breaks it.

“Alright then, you lot, let’s go see the genius of my grandfather at work!”

The alteans follow Coran, though many shook glances back at Allura. They are quickly out of sight, lost in the crowds of Coalition personnel.

“So...it worked.” Pidge says.

“That remains to be seen.” Allura replies uncertainly.

“Oh come on, they were eating out of the palm of your hand.”

The ghost of a smile appears on Allura’s face. “If they were, it only succeeded because you so ruthlessly cut them down first.”

“Well If there's one thing I’m good at besides science, its verbally cutting people down.”

They both laugh.

“...thank you.” Allura says finally. “Really. I was too...attached to the alteans to be firm with them.”

Pidge shrugs. “Just treat me to some hot coco sometime.”

“Hot...coco?” Allura says with confusion.

“Oh we definitely gotta get some hot coco now.”

“Yes, we’ll have to do something like that sometimes…” Allura’s voice drifts off as her gaze catches on Keith and Lance walking further down the camp. “...may I ask you a question of a rather...awkward nature?”

“Shoot.”

“How do you think Keith is doing?”

“Come again?”

Allura sighs. “Keith. He..he was thrust into this position of his. And I think for what it’s worth he’s done well. But I do...worry about him. He seems to take everything on himself. I know what it's like. I’m worried about what might happen if…” She shakes her head suddenly. “...forget it. Probably just idle thoughts.”

Pidge looks at Allura then over to Keith. When Pidge looks back at Allura she notes the look in her eye.

“...you’re really concerned about him huh?” She says.

“...yes, I suppose I am. He’s helped me when I needed it, and I just want to know if there’s something I can do to pay him back. Even if it's something small.”

Pidge nods slowly. “I guess...you just gotta wait for the right chance. And don’t let it go when you see it.”

“I see. Is that what you do?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“And how does it work out?”

“I’ll...let you know.”

***

“Nicely done.” Lance claps Keith on the shoulder.

Keith shugs. “I’m more concerned it happened at all.”

Lance shakes his head. “You never ceases to amaze Keith.”

“How’s that?”

“Because you actually seem to be getting pretty good at this whole ‘leading’ thing, and yet seems to hate it all the same. You’ve never stopped acting like you’re just holding the seat for someone else. Who else is gonna do it Keith?”

Keith opens his mouth.

“I swear if you say Shiro, I’m gonna punch you in the mouth.”

“So you think I should try to...be more comfortable. As a leader.”

“As an everything, man. You’ve always been so uptight. Like, ‘oh look at me, I’m Keith. I’m a tough guy with a dark backstory.’ It gets old after a while.”

“I’m glad to see you’ve summed up my personality in just a couple of sentences.” Keith rolls his eyes.

“You know what I mean. Just like...I dunno loosen up once in a while. Do something fun.”

“Like...” Keith says, his gaze drifting over to where he sees Allura, standing along with Pidge. Both have steaming mugs in their hands. “...what?” Keith blinks as if having forgotten what they were talking about.

Lance notices, following Keith’s line of sight to Allura. He looks back and forth between the two. His eyes widen.

“No way…”

“What?” Keith asks.

“Do you...do you have a thing for Allura!?”

“Wh-what!? N-no!” Keith eyes shoot involuntarily towards Allura.

Lance’s eyes widen more. “You totally do. I know that look, I used to have that look!”

“Shut up dude.” Keith turns away.

“Oh noooo, there’s no way I’m letting this one go.” Lance throws an arm over Keith shoulder. Keith shrugs him off.

“Lay off man. I don’t...even if…” Keith shakes his head. “...we don’t have time for that kind of thing. I don’t have time for that kind of thing.”

Lance sighs and shakes his head. “Keith, Keith, Keith, what are we going to do with you?”

Keith eyes him oddly. “...hypothetically. And I’m definitely not saying I do...but if I did feel something vaguely resembling what you’re talking about...wouldn’t it bother you? I mean you liked Allura for a really long time.”

Lance hesitates before replying. “...if you’d asked me that not too long ago, you’d be right.” He glances back at the two girls. In truth he only looks at one of them. “But I’ve...come to a realisation, I guess.” He chuckles. “Anyway, long story short, no. Allura never was the girl for me. It wouldn’t bother me if you wanted to pursue something with her.”

Keith doesn’t say anything for a while.

“...it's not a good time. And I wouldn’t know what to say.”

“Well when I talked to her it was literally the worst time, and said the worst possible thing. You’ve got a low bar. My humble advice? Just see if she wants to hang out or something. Don’t spring anything crazy on her, and I think you’ll do alright.”

“I’ll think about it.” Keith shrugs. “Or I would if I actually liked her.” He actually manages a smile.

“A smile? From Keith? There we go people, my wok here is done!”

“Yeah I’m sure you got other girls’ hearts to break, right?”

Lance hesitates. “...sure.”

Keith looks confused by the comment but doesn’t push the matter.

“Anyway,” lance continues. “I’m gonna take off now. Think about what I said. Live a little.”

“I...think about it.”

Lance chuckles, and walks away. Keith turns back to the two girls. Pidge appears to be saying her goodbyes and walks back into the base. Allura stands alone, looking up at the Castle of Lions. Letting out a long sigh, Keith walks over.

“Hey.” He says after moment.

“Hello.” She smiles.

“Did you uh...make any progress with the alteans today?”

“I think...I think I did.” Allura nods. “And how have things gone on your end?”

“Tiring. But nothing too out of the ordinary.” Keith shugs.

“I see.”

Both are silent for a time, as they stare up at the Castle ship. The sun is getting lower in the sky, and starting to turn it to a light orange color. Keith’s eyes occasionally flicker over to Allura. He takes a breath.

“Are you...hungry?”

Allura looks over with suprise. “Hungry?”

“Yeah.”

“I...suppose I am.” She says, as if having just noticed.

“There’s this...place a few miles off base. Nice restaurant. Shiro took me there when I broke the academy flight speed record. You uh...wanna go?”

“Yes.” Allura says immediately.

“You sure?” Keith says with surprise.

She nods.

“Al...alright then. Let’s go.”

“Let’s.”

***

Inside a dark base, rimmed with violet lights, a group of druids are talking amongst themselves.

“We should side with Zarkon. Haggar was our leader, and she stands beside him.” One says.

“That is not the same Haggar.” Another says. “She has been replaced, I’m certain of it.”

“All the more reason we should stay out of it.” A third one chimes in.

“Gentlemen.” A new voice says. “Allow me to save you the trouble of this discussion.”

The whole group looks up, to find Prince Lotor of Darktron, standing on a platform above. The scar on his face is still fresh, and the eye it crosses is still shut.to his side, is the ever stoic Raimon.

The druids stare for a moment.

“Kill him!” One shouts.

And with that, all summon bolts of violet lighting and hurl them at Lotor. He only smiles.

Raimon steps forward, and throws out both hands. The bolts crackle against his hand for a moment. Then, they are overwhelmed by Raimon’s own blue lightning that turns back on the druids. The blue bolts strike each of the druids, sending them sprawling.

“...thank you Raimon.” Lotor says, leaping down to the druid’s level. He grabs one and pulls him up by the collar it's hood.

Prince Lotor grins, an expression that is quite menacing with the new scar. “Almost two years ago you and Haggar created a weapon that you used against Voltron, to devastating effect. I’m going to need it…”

Author Update: Wow, it's been a while! Sorry about that, I’ve been super busy working on another project. What you might ask? My first original novel! Yep, those of you who are long time followers on my Wattpad might remember a little story called “If I Were Strong,” well it's two drafts later, and there are many changes (including the name). I’ll have some updates for anyone who’s interested. Anyway, thanks for being patient. I know it's been a while now since the end of voltron so I’m going to try (keyword TRY) to start wrapping up this fic. We’ll see how long that actually takes, and how many episodes it's gonna be(might be a little crazy now that we have TWO Lotors to deal with). Till then, thanks for reading this far, hope you all enjoy the end. See ya.

[breezy-cheezy]

Allura, Eraserhead, Jason Todd, Miles Morales, Hornet :>

Alrighty here we go~

***Allura****

First impression: She’s so pretty!! Elf?? SPACE ELF??? Idk what’s going on with all the lions and stuff but I love her design. She’s so cute…

Impression now: I love her and she deserved SO MUCH BETTER than she got?? D:

Favorite moment: TBH when she started getting to pilot Blue and really got to grow into her leader role, I just thought it was so cool?? Also all magic scenes!!

Idea for a story: Let her go shopping for shiny things at the space mall!!!!

Unpopular opinion: Is it bad I still ship Shallura…………? But I also liked her and Lotor…….*I’m still not caught up btw HA but I have had spoilers sooooo*

Favorite relationship: I really really loved her familial bond with Coran, I wish we saw more of that! Wonderful space Niece and Uncle!

Favorite headcanon: Altean markings all over and that they glow. I’;m sorry I’m not more interesting on this front;;;;;

***Eraserhead/Aizawa***

First impression: ????what is with this homeless gremlin man he looks scary and kinda mean?? Is he high?? Why is he so mean to Deku??

Impression now: I love and support Eraserhead…he’s such a dad. Tough love dad, but a good and supportive dad. He grew on me real fast X’’’D Also please let him have sleep and all the cats he wants :T

Favorite moment: Every time he saves the kids…or gives pep talks…just…what a good dude…

Idea for a story: Sooooo daemon au?? Maybe his Barred Owl delivers messages over campus? Oooh I just imagined his mama owl huddled over a nest of stray kittens ;7;

Unpopular opinion: MHA is great, needs more Aizawa. ANd more cats.

Favorite relationship: His friendship with ALL Might and Mic? So pure…but also Tsuyu being his surrogate daughter? Super pure…

Favorite headcanon: Aro/Ace Aizawa ace aizawa ace aizawa ACE AIZAWA ACE— I think you get the point ;7;

***Jason Todd***

First impression: He is…the mean jock robin…he died once?? But he came back with a gun…poor dude with issues…

Impression now: SON. CHILD. PLEASE LET HIM BE HAPPY. I LOVE HIM SO MUCH.PLEASE GIVE HIM A BREAK AND MAKE HIM COME HOME TO HIS FAMILY AND ACCEPTANCE!!!

Favorite moment: Any time he quotes classic literature like the HUGE nerd he is!! And the part where he was sick and fell asleep on Bruce…ALSO that freaking “YAAAAASSSS” in Robin war, a current fave, I love that dumb scene so freaking much asndububfer 

Idea for a story: IDK I’ve always had this little plunny idea of some little girl he rescues from something just kinda plays with his hair and paints his nails and he just totally rolls with it. Anything with Jason and kids. I mean. Look how well he handles Bizzarro??

Unpopular opinion: Unpopular to DC I really wish he could just hug it out with Bruce and be done with all the family drama.......

Favorite relationship: Platonic Jason with Tim has been a huge fave...Berba pointed out they’re BOTH huge nerds and kinda jocks too, so that’s fun! But also Jason with Damian. And Dick. And Bruce. Jason bonding with the batfam?? But also Jason bonding with Bizzarro was one of the cutest things...lookit this softie :P 

Favorite headcanon: That Jay is actually a redhead but dyed it upon adoption to hide his identity as robin! Also that he’s aro/ace. And that he has claustrophobia that flares up at inconvenient times due to the whole “waking up in a grave” thing...

I think about Jason alot?? But gosh DANG I cannot draw him consistently DX 

***Miles Morales***

First impression: Black spiderman? Cool! Never heard of him but he looks nice??

Impression now: LITERAL SUN/SON INTO THE COLLECTION YOU GO-- he deserved more hugs after all the crap he went through in Spiderverse :T I love him, he’s so sweet and funny and an artist!! :’’D

Favorite moment: LEAP OF FAITH!!!!!! OH MY GOSH!!!!!! but also the “who’s Morales” scene X’’’’’D I still think about that and laugh to this DAY

Idea for a story: I....really really like that Ballarino idea I’ve seen floating around...Miles in ballet would be so cool and funny!

Unpopular opinion: ....that first spiderman outfit was dumb and I know it’s the point but GOODNESS MILES X’’’’D makes it so much cooler when he gets his own!!

Favorite relationship:

I love Miles with everyone but gosh these friendships make me SO happy, also a platonic “I love you” BLESS!!!

Favorite headcanon: Seeing as Miles is an artist I bet he does all those Artist things like...buying new sketchbooks, despte having so many half finished ones, so many projects he needs to finish, always losing PENCILS, dumb stuff like that X’’D 

***Hornet***

First impression: I saw ads/posts about “SIlksong” long before I started playing Hollow Knight, so I thought she was going to be the sweet, cool, older sister figure! What a pretty bug!

Impression now: SHE’S BEAT ME UP SO MANY TIMES I feel like she says “get gud” every time and I suffer;;;;; I still love her and she’s freaking awesome~ visiting her little spider village was...sad tho...

Favorite moment: So far, when she went back to save the little Knight from the avalanche!! ;7; character development...

Idea for a story: I’d...love to see her go back and visit her mother’s grave (I’m ASSUMING it was Herrah, yes??) but also I’d love a human modern AU of some sort, with Hollow and the Knight as siblings...

Unpopular opinion: the spider charm is super helpful but I feel really bad about wearing it while fighting her, because now the little spiderlings are fighting their princess to protect me ;;7;; *guilt* but otherwise I die...! 

Favorite relationship: I love that “big sister” vibe that only grows every time she interacts with the knight X’’D 

Favorite headcanon: I like the idea that she sews stuff for other bugs in need, I think that’s super cute! 

WHEW ok gonna sleep now, sorry my answers are kinda boring;;; *tries to spice it up with gifs*

[breeeliss]

One word prompts: Wither; Midnight; Flowing; Soft; Kiss; Sway; Glow; Dawn; Flowing; Blood; Bruises. 💙

allurance

//

.bloodthere was an old altean law that prohibited those of noble birth from seeing the color of their own blood. it discouraged harm against those of noble birth and helped to maintain the delicate illusion that royals were being above the laws of nature. 

invincible. indelible immortal. 

it was long considered obsolete when allura was a young girl, but her father would remind her of it whenever she would get injured during training. “shut your eyes,” he’d instruct as he wiped the blood from her skinned knee. “if you don’t see the blood, it’s as if it’s not there.” 

it did more than pull the pain and stop her crying. it forced her to focus in battle. there was no time to worry over injuries. there was only time to complete her missions and emerge victorious. 

so when allura saw her blood splattered across the inside of her helmet, she shut her eyes tightly and refused. refused to look, refused to feel, refused to succumb. 

it wasn’t there. the blood. the pain. the water slowly filling the cockpit of her lion. none of it was there. //

.swaywhen she awoke in the hospital, the entire world shifted, flickered, and floated before sharpening in a burst of pain. a concussion, her doctors said. one that left her quarantined in the dark with blacked out windows and no visitors. 

the isolation made her reckless and pulled her from her bed one morning, but the room swiftly tilted to its side and left her swaying with nothing to hold onto. allura resigned herself to the ghastly fall until she collapsed straight into a warm chest and a fervent embrace. 

they warned her of the confusion she would suffer. it was likely this body was a doctor. perhaps it was even the floor turned to flesh by her mind in order to save her from the pain of the fall. 

for now, it looked and felt like lance. 

she clung to him, her dizziness pulling them back and forth into a disjointed waltz as she whispered into his shoulder. “i didn’t think you’d come to catch me.” //

.witherhaving him in bed with her felt like a dream. time became distorted -- constantly blurring, stretching, and compressing. lance told her it was the morphine and the confusion from the head injury. allura was only happy that she could fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat at night. 

they were lying together in darkness as he stroked her hair. “i had to beg on my knees for them to let me see you,” lance explained. “i told them someone needed to be here. needed to find you when you woke up.” 

he sounded far away, drifting on a plane of thought she was in too much pain to reach for. allura ignored the pounding in her temples and did her best to follow. “why?” 

lance’s arms tightened. “because i thought about you alone in your lion. alone in this room. thinking that everything you loved had finished withering away.” 

his voice had cracked during his admission, and allura reached up blindly to cradle his cheek. she tried to hold fast to him, but her hand fell as the drugs pulled her under. he slipped away before she could catch the rest of his words. //

.bruiseseventually the haze dissipated and all that was left was the pain. 

“battered” was too a weak descriptor. she felt dilapidated -- as if one wrong twist of her body would finish crippling her. 

lance helped ice her body twice a day in the hopes that the bruising would begin to fade after a couple of weeks. in return, she helped redress the gnarled, angry wounds across his chest from where his shattered armor had dug into his torso during the crash. 

it was usually done in silence, an unspoken decision on their part that made their first aid feel oddly intimate. the shivers she felt when the ice touched her body and when his thumb stroked her neck felt identical -- blooming from the same place hidden deep within her. 

her injuries made her feel raw -- a fragile being stripped down to its most basic parts and asked to endure in spite of its weakness. but lance would take those parts, polish them off with his hands, and breathe life back into them as he pressed one kiss to every single mark on her body. 

“you are impossibly beautiful,” he told her. 

“in spite of the bruises?” 

“no. because of them.” //

.midnight“were you afraid?” 

they were lying on their sides, staring at each other with only the moonlight illuminating their faces. this late at night, allura didn’t need to elaborate on what she was referring to. lance already knew. 

“no. i was ready. lately i feel like when i think it’s coming, i’m always ready.” 

“i don’t think i ever could be,” she admitted. “every time it comes im always afraid. i accept it, but im always trembling when i do.” 

“there’s this quote from a peruvian writer. it goes, ‘a warrior thinks of death when things become unclear. the idea of death is the only thing that tempers our spirit.’” 

allura frowned. “i don’t think i like that at all. there’s too much to lose in death and i have so much i still want to hold onto. alteans had a different philosophy.” 

“oh? what was it?” 

“‘a warrior does not give up what he loves. he finds the love in what he does.’”

“in fighting?” 

“no. in those he fights for.” //

.softthey crossed a line one morning. 

allura woke before lance and stood by the edge of the bed to undress, thinking she was safe with his back turned towards her. she was standing in her underwear when she felt a hand brush against the flesh of her hip. 

it was a sleep ridden request for her to come back to bed, but he must have belatedly noticed her state of undress because his fingers retracted the moment he blinked to full consciousness. he was in the middle of an apology before allura grabbed his hand and gently placed it back where it had been. 

she bit her lip and waited, afraid that the move had been too bold. but then she felt lance’s hand traveling up to the dip of her waist and across her lower back. there were scars and discoloring along its path, but still he muttered under his breath, “so soft...” 

allura’s whole body shook, and she was afraid that they were toeing closer to an edge that would engulf them if they allowed themselves to fall. the idea wasn’t entirely unpleasant but she could picture how complicated a fall like that would be. how much more hurt was on the line. how their hearts would have to start breaking for two. 

but, oh, to feel his hands on her like this always. to shake around him and let him inside her. it burned a hole of want through her stomach and made her sigh at his touch. 

eventually, his hands left her and the spell had melted away. he turned to dress and they both said nothing. //

.flowinglife is too short, allura decided. 

she thought a lot about how minuscule human lifetimes were. the fact that lance would die hundreds of years before her was the single most painful reality she could ever hope to accept. but the morbidity floated away when she realized how gorgeous it was to watch lance pack every single second he breathed with meaning. 

his days flowed right into one another, never pausing and never stuttering. he couldn’t afford the wasted moments so he made every single one matter. it’s why his generosity was infectious, why his words were sincere, why his smile was blinding, and why his touch stayed bold and steady. 

it often made her think of what she wanted and what was worth grabbing. love wasn’t something she felt she could ever be selfish enough to take. there was so much work to be done, so much danger to face, so much more unpredictability that could stand to pull her aspirations out from under her. love could never thrive being suffocated by all that. 

but lance found small gaps of freedom amidst his responsibility, and it was those gaps he filled with his love. he showed them to her late at night when they whispered conversations that lasted until the sun came up, and he poured some of it out onto her skin whenever he couldn’t keep his hands away. it warmed her, filled her, made her exhale with hope. 

when lance dies, allura knows that his love will be the one thing he takes with him -- blessed in his last moments and immortalized with his spirit. 

yes, allura decided. life is indeed too short. //

.kiss allura found him sitting on the edge of her bed, pulling off his boots and preparing to turn in for the night. 

she always found time to marvel at how he’d changed -- how his shoulders had broadened, how his jaw had sharpened, how his eyes had softened. she couldn’t quite track the slow progression. rather, it felt like she’d suddenly woken from a sleep and finally found herself able to see clearly for the first time. and lance was so clear before her now. rendered in perfect detail. permanent. stamped in her heart forever. thoroughly inextricable. 

she crawled onto the bed behind him. he paused his movement when he heard the mattress creak and calmly waited for her next move. nothing at that point had been planned, so allura followed the pull of her want. she brushed away his hair -- grown out long for forgetting to cut it -- and pressed one soft kiss to the nape of his neck. 

lance’s fingers curled into the sheets below him, and her kisses kept traveling. his jaw. his cheek. the corner of his mouth. until finally his head turned, and his eyes were brimming with affection for her. 

he met her halfway, and suddenly all allura knew were lance’s lips, lance’s groans, and lance’s hands slowly lowering her onto their bed. //

.glow“wait,” she gasped. “go slower. move slower.”

lance’s hips stilled, lip trembling as he slid his hand up her thigh. “am i hurting you?” 

“no.” her body moved with his, urging him forward again. “i want to see your face. watch it change.” 

he obliged, shifting against her, pulling out so slowly she could feel every inch of him leave her before rushing back in. “how is it changing?” 

allura kissed him, whispering against his lips. “i swear it’s like you’re glowing.” //

.dawn lance still glowed the morning after, face haloed by the warm rush of dawn peeking through their bedroom window. 

allura traced his lips with tips of her fingers before licking along the lines they followed. he woke to her kiss and pulled her tight against him, feeling him surround her just as fiercely as he had last night. 

their limbs were tangled in the bedsheets and he laughed into her neck when he couldn’t hope to free himself. “i hope i wake up like this every morning until the day i die,” he said. 

allura smiled into the kiss she left on his chest, just over the warmth of his heart. “you always will,” she told him. “i swear it.” 

[stressedspidergirlsfandomblog]

Pt12

"You barely ate anything," Keith protests. He can see the bones in Shiro's face are more sharply defined, now.

Watching Curtis slide in behind Shiro and wrap his arms around the other man's middle, Keith wonders if Shiro would even sit up without the support. He seems frail. He's never seemed frail before. Never.

"I put the soup bowl back mostly full," he continues. "We brought sushi, if you'd rather..."

Krolia takes the cue to bring food over from the counter. Along with drinks and Lance gets up to help her load the coffee table with silverware and food.

"Or pizza," Matt suggests.

"Or if youre queasy... Soup or juice."

Shiro breathes out through his nose.

"Patience yields focus," Keith, Matt, Pidge, and Lance all day in perfect unison.

Shiro just wrinkles his nose in mock irritation by way of response. Leaning over he picks up one of the juice packets and makes a big show of being unable to open it one handed. He could if he wanted to.

Curtis snorts, and wrestles the packet away to crack it open and pass it back. But not before faking a hand over and then taking a long drink of it, first.

"Gross," Shiro mutters.

"You've had my tongue in your mouth, but sharing a drink is where you draw the line? Well guess where else I guess my mouth doesn't belong."

"Oh, no gross. No, not cool." Lance pretends to cover his ears. "Even referencing old people sex is nasty!"

"Old!" Shiro says indignantly as he can. Play along. Fake it till you make it.

Tempted to make an experience joke, Curtis feels it might hit a sore spot. For all he knows Lance has done a little dating recently.

"Yeah I mean you look like a grandpa, why don't you dye it?" Matt asks. Mostly still teasing.

"So i can look as tired as I feel?' Shiro tries. It falls flat. "The senior citizen discount is better than the one for veterans...." He tries, working a smile onto his face.

Lance looks at him, and lightly touches the Altean marks on his cheeks. "Its for her, isnt it?" He asks, eyes overbright. He's really moving on fine. But he'd never thought all those times Shiro checked on him, that Shiro was still grieving, too.

Looking down and away he presses his lips into a thin line so they won't tremble. Taking a drink of juice, he lets the flavor roll over his tongue. At least no one's pushing him to eat.

When Shiro finishes off his drink, Lance makes eye contact with Curtis. Shifting back, he understands. And isn't shocked when Shiro is slammed into him and Lance's arms dig into his middle.

"I miss her, too," Pidge says abruptly, and Lance holds out an arm. She squishes into the pile. "Keith just get your ass in here," she snaps irritably and he 'reluctantly' joins. Curtis shifts away, letting Keith take his spot. Keith settles behind Shiro, supporting him.

"I'm really sorry about Adam, too," Keith says softly. "I let you blow me off once and I never... We both loved him."

"I never even thought to check..." Matt says. "After you left, he and I got closer. He was a good guy."

Shiro's shoulders start to shake in silent sobs.

Colleen and Sam have finished up enough to know the topic has turned to Adam. "He knew how you felt about him," Sam promises. "And he knew you were alive and coming home." If that helps he doesn't know, but hopefully it's better than knowing nothing. "I think he was excited to see you. Even if you two never were going to be the way you were before."

Curtis quietly does his best to explain to Krolia who Adam was. She knows Allura.

"It doesn't upset you? Them praising him?"

"That's Takashi's past. I'm his present, and I hope...his future."

Krolia shrugs. Humans are weird.

At some point the grieving winds down and concludes. Keith is gently rubbing Shiro's back and trying to reassure him. For all he knows his brother is mortified at having broken down in front of witnesses.

Curtis drags over a box of tissues that gets passed around.

"Okay my turn, move aside boys," Colleen says, forcing the paladins to clear out until she has a path to Shiro. Pulling him into a tight hug, she's gratified when he leans into her and hugs back. Patting his back gently, she kisses the side of his head. "I don't know when we forgot you were just a young pilot... Not much older than Matt. You've always been like family to us."

Shiro tries to brush her comments aside but she's not having it.

"Sam knew you were the best. And somewhere along the way we forgot you were anything other than a leader. We forgot to be family. You and Adam and Keith were one. And at the Garrison it was you, Sam, and Matt."

"I was your boss," he points out, voice muffled by her shoulder.

"Moms trump all military rankings. I'm always able to veto you," she tells him reassuringly.

"Pff," he protests, only to scrunch his face when she peppers him with kisses.

"Earth mothers have no shame," Curtis comments to Krolia quietly.

"Make a comment like that and you're next," Collen warns. "We're all family here."

"Why does that sound like a threat?" Keith asks, grunting when Shiro pushes against him in a lackluster attempt to escape more affection.

"Because it is," Pidge and Matt say in unison.

"Holt family hug!" Sam insists, bunching up his kids closer to his wife.

Curtis isn't sure how it happens but somehow they all end up squeezed together in a group hug. It's not comfortable, and thankfully it doesn't last long, but it feels kind of perfect.

Once freed Shiro takes an interest in the food, leaning forward to use his fingers to pick out random pieces of sushi and dumping them on a plate before settling back against Keith.

"Are you gonna use me as furniture all night?" Keith complains. Not like Shiro and Adam hadn't told him the same thing hundreds of times before. He wriggles a little in mock discomfort and Shiro makes an annoyed noise when it makes him drop his sushi.

"I've got this Shiro," Lance reassures him, leaning over to grab chopsticks.

"Oh no, take cover," Pidge warns.

"Hey! I'm really good at using chopsticks!" he drops the piece of sushi twice before he has it.

"Why're you taking my food?" Shiro complains.

"Im not, I'm helping. Open wide."

"What?"

Keith starts to laugh. Curtis can't imagine Shiro letting someone feed him. He won't even eat off Curtis' fork at restaurants unless Curtis passes the whole fork over. Laughing, too, soon everyone but Lance is giggling.

"Nope. Not gonna happen." Shiro selects a different piece and stuffs it into his mouth.

"Fine!" Lance jokes, setting the piece back along with the chopsticks.

Shiro takes them up instantly with a little smirk.

Keith leans over Shiro's shoulder. "That looks good," he says, reaching for a piece.

"Hey!" Shiro protests, trying to rebuff him with just his shoulders. Stuffing the piece in question into his mouth, he tries to inform Keith that it's gone now. His mouth is too full.

"I mean there's more on your plate," Keith points out. He'll do this all day if it means Shiro will eat.

"Cut it out," Colleen warns. "You'll choke."

Shiro gives Keith a look that most definitely says : no I won't.

"Gross. Shiro, gross."

"Seems interesting to me," Curtis grins, having caught the exchange.

Keith gives Lance a look. "I gotta stretch," he tells Shiro, gently patting his back. He wheezes when Shiro leans back on him more. "I will pee on you," he threatens and Shiro instantly sits up straight.

Lance shifts some, not to take Keith's spot but to offer more support. Pidge and Matt shift in response.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a second?" Keith asks Curtis, checking to see Shiro is occuppied by Pidge, Matt, and Lance.

"Sure."

"Ask Shiro, I'm really bad with words, okay? But I feel like I should say something. I know very little about you guys and I'm sorry. But I can tell you really love him. And he loves you. And I don't know how it works, or what the future holds...

But it was so different with Adam. He was so different. Patience yields focus. Everything had to be controlled. And he had to be perfect. He was a little bit of a show off... And he drove himself to the edge." Keith takes a breath. "And they suffered for it. Trying to support someone who never chooses you first. I was so angry at Adam but I get it now. And... I see him choosing you. This time he's choosing you.

"I see the way he looks for you. Or just the way you guys look at each other. You're so in tune." Keith looks down. "And I'm so sorry you had to call us to task... You're right. We are his family. And so we're yours, too.

"And i don't know what I'm really trying to say other than... He's not struggling or fighting for anything. He has you. And I'm so grateful he has you. I haven't seen him relax... Or drop his guard... He was so annoyed all of us came," Keith laughs. Curtis grins. "And he didn't even try that hard to play Mr. Perfect and cover it up. We got to grieve with him. And tease again." He rubs at his eyes.

"I don't know what he'd be like without you in his life right now, but I'm glad I don't have to find out."

(I'll edit more in later?)

[zimuse]

All of my issues with S8 of Voltron

So. Firstly, the show is always brilliantly animated and I deeply appreciate their attention to detail. But I have WAY MORE issues than anything else, and I’m not at all happy or content with how it ended. So let me go ahead and list my gripes with the eighth season, in no particular order: 1) That whole thing with Allura violently forcing her memories on Zarkon. What the actual fuck, dude? I don’t care what Zarkon has done; this was clearly, visibly, not the same Zarkon they have been dealing with – a Zarkon who is not corrupted by quintessence, who is bewildered by what’s going on, has no clue what the hell anyone is talking about, no recollection, knowledge or memory. And she just fucking assaulted him? Moral issues aside, how do you know that that’s not going to break him and turn him into the Zarkon you do know? Oh, right, consequences; I forgot, we never think about those. And I know she’s got a lot of anger, but literally no one in the group reacted?! Not even his fellow paladins that have been trapped in this same state with him? Real heroes, guys. Bravo!   2) Zarkon calling his wife a “psychopath”. Excuse the fuck out of you, sir. She’s not a psychopath - she is doing what she believes needs to be done to get her family back. And after everything she’s been through, do I blame her? Hell no.  Her driving force, her only motivation, is her family. With Zarkon dead, her focus went to her son, and she quite literally ripped through time and space to bring him back. No, I really don’t think that qualifies as a psychopath. Using what’s basically portrayed as his corpse to control the Sincline though, that’s another story but I’ll get to that later. Anyway. Check your privilege, sir. 3) Allura “seeing the good in Honerva” like she saw “the good in everyone”. Where the hell was this in the confrontation with Lotor, who she supposedly loved? Because apparently this doesn’t at all extend to him. Honerva, as much as I adore her, did so much worse than Lotor ever could be accused of. Yes, Allura did admit in the end that Lotor sought peace but, well, it was well past the point where it mattered. Seriously. He supposedly died screaming, alone, and ended up a fused quintessence robot... Zombie thing. But Honerva? She’s Altean. So she gets off easy during the actual confrontation and on screen. 4) I HAVE SO MANY ISSUES WITH THE LIMITED AMOUNT OF LOTOR IN THIS SEASON. Yes, that deserved to be in all caps. Okay, we saw a glimpse of his body, and I get that in the narrative we're supposed to believe that he's dead. Well, as the weirdly fused robot zombie. Does anyone else have a problem with this shit? BECAUSE I FUCKING DO. The quintessence field was literally described as life itself - how in the actual fuck are you going to tell me he died, surrounded by the essence of life itself? And also, yes, we saw a glimpse of his "corpse". There's no proof that it was actually a corpse. We saw the back side of him. Until I see a FULL BODY FRONT VIEW of it, I do not believe he's dead. Whoever made this be a thing... -flips off- 5) BUT if we are to accept that he's dead... The paladins literally murdered Lotor and no one, save Honerva, even stopped to acknowledge it. And honestly? This tears at my heart. 6) Was there a reason they used the name Merla for that one Altean at the end? I didn’t see any similarities between these two characters other than betrayal. Why even include it? 7) Speaking of betrayal, is this an affliction most Alteans suffer from? Because  Coran is literally the only exception to this that we’ve seen. And supposedly Romelle, but I still don’t trust her, so I don’t include her. Fuck Romelle. 8) Keith as spokesperson for the Galra and Galra rep? Why would the remaining Galra with any authority listen to someone who doesn’t even look Galra? Randomly cheering at his speech? What is this. I can see his Krolia and Kolivan being the representatives and all, but why weren’t THEY the ones giving the speech? Oh yeah, I know why. The next point. 9) Oh, and about that speech, it was word for word literally what Lotor said to the Galra once up on a time (in s5, I believe?). Add insult to injury, why don’t you. 10) The Altean marks on Lance at the end, how does this even work? I thought it was genetic, purely Altean thing. Is it not? Can anyone acquire them? Does this mean you’re considered Altean now, Lance? WHY on earth is this a thing and why isn’t it explained? - EDIT: After thinking about this more and referring back to the series itself... I can conclude that the Altean marks are as magical as the race that is born with them. Think about it, these marks fundamentally tell you something about that character. Allura’s and Coran’s are small, just on their cheeks, and are smooth. They don’t have edges. Honerva, who has been corrupted, had elongated, jagged marks. But when she was “redeemed”, the long jagged marks we’ve seen throughout all eight seasons (after being corrupted), her marks shrink, becoming her old smooth marks post-corruption. And Lotor? His marks aren’t as long as his mothers’, but they were a tad jagged - signifying that at his core, he was a good person, yet he’d been touched by darkness and that darkness was a part of him. The Prince was born with the same unique energy signature that his parents were corrupted/killed/reanimated with. I do think that the marks take on the personality, for lack of better word, to match the individual. It’s visibly obvious that these things are magical in some way, but does that justify the “ability” to mark someone else with them? This could be up to interpretation. I don’t think so, though. It seemed like a random thing to toss in. So kind of like the Balmara (which I’ll get into in another point), if it had been seen previously in another portion of the series, I’d have accepted it as something that Alteans could do. As it stands in the current narrative, I don’t think it should be a thing, nor was it meant to be a thing in the original draft. It was supposed to be Lotor in Lance’s position, not actually Lance. Thus, I feel that scene was supposed to be the reappearance of Lotor’s own Altean marks. Not the gift of Lance’s. 11) Altea and Daibazaal came back... Why? That tells me it’s not actually their reality that they returned to. But then that raises several questions, so what do? If it’s because eliminating the rift undid everything associated with it, then that should have restored Alfor, Zarkon, Lotor, Honerva and literally everyone else involved with that too. Which I would have totally accepted. 12) Sooooo killing Lotor essentially not only led to the loss of millions of lives throughout the universe, but ultimately led to the erasing of all but one reality. And no one addressed the Voltron team’s hand in this? Seriously? 13) “Join the Coalition.” “What’s the alternative.” “There is no alternative.” That... That sounds like conquest to me. Thanks for the options, broski. 14) The whole way they dealt with Lahn. He brought up some excellent points, about Voltron/Allura having everything handed to them, but I guess the power of teamwork and friendship managed to give him a sudden bout of amnesia and sign up for the Coalition. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Way to slap a bandaid on that, guys. I hate it when writers do this. And if I ever do this? Slap me and tell me to fix it. 15) The paladins literally leaving everyone they help undefended, and then being shocked that those places have fallen to whatever villain is the focus at that time. Like, Olkarion? What were they thinking? As what was arguably the central nexus of their forces, possessing the most advanced technology they have access to, it should have been the number one priority to make sure it didn’t fall to enemy hands. But that makes way too much sense too, doesn't it? I want Shiro back as the Black Lion. Or Lotor to have returned to be the Black Lion. He did use the Black Bayard to kill Zarkon after all, and that was never revisited for... Reasons. That could have been a fantastic plot point to show that Lotor was the next Black Paladin. He’d certainly make a better one than Keith. 16) Speaking of - they never even checked up on the Olkari citizens that evacuated. Why? Was this done off-camera and just never mentioned? Because that seems really important to know WHERE your highly advanced tech/weapon makers are. Are they okay? Did they find another planet before their provisions ran out? Why are all casualties and losses either not mentioned at all or are/were glossed over? 17) Everyone treating Lotor like an immoral murderer when he was anything but. I swear. The writers present him as sympathetic and provide ample reasonable arguments on his behalf, both in show and in interviews, etc., but then proceed to have every other character treat him as though he’s a monster. Why tf are you having everyone demonize him, when you show us that it’s not true and you’re not going to bring him back for the redemption arc he deserved, and gave him the chance to explain himself? All that’s doing is affecting my opinion of the other characters lmao. 18) The paladins seriously took 5 episodes to come to the conclusion that, yes, it is Honerva that’s responsible for all of this new shenanigans. I’m honestly not sure why they’re surprised. We all knew that she went SOMEWHERE. She was the wife of Zarkon, and Lotor’s mother. She made several adversaries that Voltron struggled to face. She was the alchemic force driving the Galra Empire, and no one thought, “Hmm, we should probably keep tabs on that, she’s dangerous”? And then took another 6 episodes to figure out her motivations? There’s only one conclusion to draw from this: They’re dumb. 19) There are several opportunities taken to go to great lengths about how it’s not what you are but who you are that counts, that it doesn’t matter what you have done in the past and you can always grow from it and deserve a chance. I’m thinking specifically of the Acxa/Veronica scene, but there were a couple of other instances. I guess that we just don’t extend that courtesy to Lotor. He literally got the shit end of the stick from all directions and all of the characters are just pouring salt in the wound. -rubs temples and fumes- 20) Acxa, what the actual fuck? Lotor using their rage as half breeds? What. He never, ever let them go on a rampage, and always emphasized no killing. Zethrid and Ezor were the ones always portrayed as really bloodthirsty, but all of a sudden Ezor is the one who can’t take the anger anymore and wants out, and wants Zethrid to let go of her rage? Ezor, who was so eager to bleed and torture? Lolwat.

21) Why were there two episodes dedicated to trans-versing Honerva's mind? They were completely and utterly useless. The plot did not move forward with it, Voltron and the Paladins didn't bond stronger or learn new moves/techniques that could have helped them in their final battle with Honerva - nothing. The only thing I got from it was how much more badass Honerva actually is. She trapped SOULS in her mind and kept them prisoner. That’s terrifying and cool, but did we really need to know that? Not really. What happened to the original Paladins could have been covered in a single episode, in a different fashion. So the "dark entity" and the connection to Honerva? That didn't need to be in the narrative at all. You could argue that without it, they couldn't have saved the souls of the original paladins, but they would have been saved at the end any fucking way when Honerva and Allura sacrificed themselves to fix all the shit. Sooo. Thanks for wasting 40 minutes of our time. 22) So in episode 13, when they're chasing Honerva through the holes in dimensions... And she drains Voltron (and the paladins by extension) of energy, we see the hole CLOSE. Okay? We saw it close. That means they're stuck there forever. Done. Finito, they no longer exist - none of them, not from that dimension. Then we went to Honerva getting what she wanted at last - except she didn't. Lotor outright rejects her. I do not blame him at all for being angry if that dimension's version of his mom was dead and he's still grieving, but it was alluded to that it's been a couple years since she died. We see Zarkon protect his son in this dimension, and that he’s uncorrupted. Thus, we can assume that Honerva wasn’t corrupted either, and was never abusive towards Lotor. And he just... Didn't accept her? I know that Lotor is extremely perceptive, even as a kid, but why? If she wasn’t abusive towards him in that dimension, why does he immediately reject her? More over, his rejection seems to be the last straw - which feels... Odd, because it feels as if she’s heard it prior and that was the nail in the coffin that said “fuck it, destroy everything”. It would have made more narrative sense if Lotor had been alive, and in his own redemption arc, to tell “the witch” that his mother was dead - and that is why this dimension’s version of him saying the same thing struck such a nerve. But what bugs me the most is that Voltron came out of nowhere and continued the battle. The gateway into that dimension closed. We all saw it close. The dimension they were IN dissolved completely, so HOW did they get there?! How are they not dead at that point? This should NOT have been a thing. I’d have accepted it if they had just barely made it through the hole, but no. This is just another Dues Ex Machina, and I’m not having it. I'd have been absolutely fine with the series ending with Honerva in the alternate universe with her family, having to work to earn kid!Lotor's affection and recognition that she's his mother. That could have easily been worked on. A kid is a kid, no matter what. He'd have warmed up to her eventually. I think. And in that alternate universe, Lotor and Allura would have grown up (sort-of, she appears much older - at least a teenager at that point?) together, and more than likely still would have fallen in-love. With his father and mother there. Honerva would have had everything. 23) Did we actually need to go as big as the multi-verses being threatened? Nah. As cool as as they were, time travel would have been much easier for Honerva. And would have made a lot more sense, all things considered. If she went back to before she and her hubby were corrupted, she could have stopped ALL OF THIS SHIT from happening to begin with. THAT would have been a better ending, to have done time-travel and to fast-forward a couple years to seeing how everyone ended up. Allura and Lotor, married. ANd the rest of the cast? With the same ending as they had in the narrative, given that the original paladins either stepped down as Paladins of Voltron and let new people succeed them, or having never been involved with the plot as a whole BECAUSE the original paladins never died. I can understand that this would feel like a huge cop out, and that not everyone fancies time travel stories these days. There have been quite a number of them throughout the years. It would’ve worked here though, but I don’t think that was the point. I think the point of going to another dimension is that Honerva didn’t want to change the past - she wanted to start over, and leave the reality that she helped to fuck over.

24) What was with all of the Dues ex Machinas!? There were at least 3 or 4. That’s too many across a single episode, or even two. Like ZOOM, suddenly the Balmera were there. When did that become a thing? If it had been shown earlier in the series that they could do that, I’d have accepted it. But to bring that in so suddenly? No, the writers pulled that outta their asses. 25) And let’s not forget that Honerva used that one giant Balmera as a battery when Merla knocked out one of the towers. That mighta been a lotta crystals, but the power difference between several of those crystals and the energy of entire planets that had who even knows how much life on them, astounds and bothers me. Yeah, the crystals are used to power ships and all, but really? Those things have more energy than six planets? I need this in waaaay more detail somewhere, because until it is, this was also a Dues Ex Machina.

26) One of the two biggest issues I have with season 8 is Allurance - not because I’m against the ship nor because I dislike Lance’s character. My issue is with how it was portrayed. If you compare season 8′s Allurance with season 5 and early season 6′s Lotura, you’ll seen just how drastically different they are. We see Allura at her happiest with Lotor than we do in any other season. With Lance? She doesn’t look happy. That same spark just isn’t there. Its like she’s forcing herself to move on, and it just doesn’t work. I mean, consider the episode with the Dark Entity and how it primarily assumed Lotor’s form. She misses and longs for him, and the vision of her in the Altean robeast draining her beloved planet of quint to save it was - and I full heartedly believe this because otherwise it’s randomly there in the narrative - for Allura to feel and understand what it was like to be in Lotor’s shoes. And Lance? Lance doesn’t particularly look really happy either, honestly. Frankly, the boy looks miserable. More over, the fact that Allura has rejected him for six seasons only to sorta flirt with him in s7 and then date him in s8... Really bugs me. That’s akin to sending a message that if you persue a woman long enough, she’ll eventually cave and accept a man’s romantic feelings. No. That is not a message to send to kids ages 7 and up. Add to the fact that Lance has had thoughts of Allura clinging to his leg while he’s proclaimed as the winner and everyone is looking up to him, and that he tells Allura that he’s “great at winning prizes” which essentially hints that he thinks of her as a prize that he’s won - and this isn’t only disturbing, it’s outright revolting and sexist. If I were a parent, this is not the kind of message I’d want my child to have. Period. 27) But the most disturbing thing about season 8, and the reason it was essentially ruined, was the fate of Lotor. There were several moments throughout s8 where he could have been there. And we can clearly see in the closing scene where the lions are flying out into the cosmos that it’s not just Allura’s outline in the stars. She’s clearly with Lotor, as if he was supposed to have been there the whole time and was supposed to share her choice. Season 8 had the potential of being the most beautiful redemption story tied into a Heroine’s journey that I’ve ever seen. But instead, we see an abuse survivor that only wanted to do good, a victim of neglect that longed to be loved... Get the most graphic death in the series with absolutely no chance to redeem himself. All of his plot points are left forgotten and untouched. We’re only given more of his abusive backstory to make him a more sympathetic character. He was never given a real chance to explain his half of the story concerning the Colony; we never see the point that he killed Narti come back up between him and his generals at all, almost as though it never happened to begin with; his potential as the Black Paladin, shown when he used the Black Bayard to kill his father, is left completely unexplored; and being as he wasn’t given a redemption arc, we don’t see him get to have another chance at the White Lion trial and succeed. What we are given is the desecration of the animus, the death of a dark youth character, and the light youth Allura thus being unable to complete her heroine’s journey. The disturbing message that this sends to children, particularly to children that are/were victims of abuse themselves, is completely unacceptable. I stand with @leakinghate and @felixazrael and the others on this point. This is not the story that was written originally, and we see that in the choppiness of certain episodes, as well as the conclusion with both Allura and Lotor in the stars. Legendary Defender was always meant to be their story. I don’t personally believe that the writers who put so much thought, so much care, so much love into these characters would write them to end up as we see them in the season 8 we were given. If you haven’t already, please sign the petition to release/explain the original season eight.

[ofalsehoods]

me, looking myself straight in the eye: you’re in class and you have 3 pages of ooc and meme replies, you should either pay attention or make sure that next post of yours is an rp post. also me: 

when lotor was a young teen he got caricatured to death by pretty much the entire empire. he would just stare at them and cry, hating himself even more in comparison to his father as he internalizes those racist images and thinks that’s what he truly is. 

also when he was a teen, he injured himself to the point that his upper back muscles can no longer magically regenerate. he worked out excessively trying to be as big as a full galra, tore his muscle, sat there in extreme pain until he regenerated then got back up and started working out again. and he would have done this over and over until his body’s magic exhausted itself and now even if somebody else tries to heal him with magic in those areas, it won’t work.

when lotor was a child (human equivalent age 9), he attempted to first cut off and then burn off his altean markings. he tried to do so on his left leg and left arm--the cutting on his arm, and then the burning on his leg. since altean markings are more sensitive than normal skin, this was pretty much torture for him. as a result the markings on both have grown back asymmetrically compared with what they were on the other side. instead of geometrically “straight” they have grown back jagged and haphazard and holy heckie i need to draw a ref of this at some point. he passes off the burn scars as battle injuries and the cutting scars as torture injuries. he was at peace with them for a while but he has grown to hate the markings even more now because he knows Alteans Shouldn’t Have Scars due to regeneration but his doesn’t regenerate all the way.

he thinks his hair is his one good feature--the only thing beautiful about him--which is why he takes such good care of it. he washes it almost obsessively to get rid of his scent--his scent is strongest in his hair and while it’s actually rather pleasant to the species that can detect it, people have always thought he smelled either “too altean” or “too galra.” 

honestly i have trouble thinking of a single part of his body that he hasn’t hated at some point in his life. he’s gone from hating everything about him that was altean to hating everything about him that was galra. he’s had issues with his height, his build, his hair, his scent, his nose, his chin--pretty much everything over 10k years he’s had something to complain about. why? because i love to make him suffer, that’s why. 

[a-rdentlyy]

*finger guns* fuck vld s8 B)

I was incapable to do my final projects until I wrote down all my feelings. VLD is trash, but I’m sadly obsessed with it, dear god just end my suffering. Just to be clear, I also have some (very few) good things to say about this season but those will be at the end.

Cons

lol the whole fucking season

Pretty much everything concerning Lance was about Allura, nothing about his own personal growth except when talking to Keith

Sunset talk was romantic as FUCK and Keith spoke about how great Lance was and was just so fucking soft the whole time

Sitting at the table and confiding in each other about personal growth had me tearing up tbh

Literally episode one was extremely gay

Like, super gay

Lance and Allura have an awkward date, which was honestly pretty cute, EXCEPT for when Lance suddenly tells her he loves her and she’s just like “i mean ok i guess” and they kiss????????????

What the hell??????????

And why the fuck did Lance choose to seek solace in Keith when he was worried about his “date”??????? (hint: its gay fellas)

And then when Veronica asked about Keith and if he was single Lance literally freaked the fuck out for like 67493862988409 years

HUGE queerbait season and episode if you ask me :/

How the FUCK is Ezor still alive, I’m not complaining, but this was out of nowhere

The astral plane episode w the old paladins could have been so cool

Blaytz should have been with Lance, literally his whole speech about people underestimating him and “fucking having greatness within” is LITERALLY what Allura said to him in either season 5 or 6 (can’t remember and don’t really care about their interactions tbh)??????? Like??????? Give my boy some validation that isn’t centered around his romantic life?????

Alfor should have been with Allura. That’s her fucking dad and his whole “my daughter chose you cuz ur cool i guess” speech to Lance felt so flat and awkward, I hated it. Everything about Alfor’s speech would have been so much better if it wasn’t about how Allura liked him.

AND SHE DIDN’T EVEN CHOOSE LANCE, SHE CHOSE LOTOR AND SETTLED FOR LANCE BECAUSE HE WAS HER CONSTANT COMPANION

They did Lotor dirty, my trash son

Not a single bit of actual redemption

In the Honerva flashback episode could see how his parents tore him down. Zarkon destroying his first colony broke him.

Totally unresolved Lotura plotline. I really liked them together and they had genuine chemistry unlike the “main” bullshit ship of the season. Allura first tries to kill him in her nightmare and then immediately trusts him after he says like 2 words????????? Girl ain’t over her ex.

So was he actually evil and was really sucking out quinessence or was that plotline just never touched upon, cuz he tried to explain what was happening in s6 but was never really allowed to speak?????

The Altean colony was never really resolved???????

Like, who’s running it now??????

Altean/Farmer Lance

Don’t even talk to me about this shit

What the FUCK is with him suddenly becoming Altean????? Like, if he had, you know, some Altean descendents and his little markings were suddenly activated then i’d kind of get it

Also Lance has Altean markings now, because we just can’t let Lance move on from Allura and be happy can we

This ending was SUCH BULLSHIT. Lance has always wanted to be a pilot but now that some girl he liked is dead he wants to live on a farm w his family?????

I’m still not done with how they won’t just let Lance move on from Allura and be happy

He lives on Altea, of all places, so he’ll see her people everywhere

He has fucking Altean markings so he’ll be reminded of her every time he looks at himself in the mirror

Honerva seemed like such a good, complex villain but they just made her goal so fucking dumb

I figured she’d want to get Lotor back (which I dug because I’m always here for mother’s love n shit) plotlines, but suddenly she’s trying to get to an alternate universe?????? The fuck?????

And what the hell happened when she actually went to the AU, what the actual fuck

What a bitch, she’s still pissed at Allura even in this alternate reality

Lol AU baby Lotor telling Honerva how she sucks is incredible

Klance

Fucking gypped

So much build up

Where the hell is the “slow burn” endgame for Lance?????? Definitely not with Allura, that shit was rushed as hell

Literally so much chemistry between Keith and Lance

Allurance

I don’t actually hate Allurance

The writers just suck at doing their job and making good romantic relationships

Literally cringed at every scene where Allura and Lance interacted tho, it just felt so forced

When Lance said “my girlfriend” I actually had to stop watching and had to take a solid half hour to recover (I’m not even joking), it was the worst thing I had ever heard

HELLA rushed “i love you” to Allura. Lance, she’s the fucking best, I agree, but dude. You honestly don’t even really know each other that well (the demi in me is coming out lol)

Allura never once responded to Lance saying I love you until the very end, and even then it felt more like a platonic “I love who you are” deal. She definitely didn’t love Lance like he cared for her.

She even ended up dying and walked towards Lotor at the end, she still chose Lotor over Lance at the very end

And we just can’t let Lance have anything nice, can we

Lotura

“He was happy with you” fuckin Honerva speaking the truth for once

Literally one of the best ships that crashed and burned for no reason

Through this entire season you can still see Allura isn’t over Lotor

Allura, they did you so dirty as well

My wife

I’m so sorry for what they did to you

This amazing survivor of genocide that thought that she was the last survivor was killed off

They also ruined ur character tho, the real Allura would never have basically tortured the real Zarkon without quintessence poisoning

And you would have realized you don’t actually love Lance like that

Those goodbyes actually destroyed me at the end tho

“I’m gonna miss you Allura” BITCH ME TOO, THE FUCK

Shiro’s goodbye made me tear up the most

So she can create infinite realities because of her sacrifice except for one where she lives???????

And who’s leading the new Altea????? No one???? They never explain what happens with the actual colony that Lotor made and the current timeline

Holy shit I just realized we never actually found out if Lotor survived the quintessence field or not

I mean, almost certainly didn’t

But still, that shit’s important to tell us

Looked like a hawk carrying away a baby mouse

Shiro’s wedding was fucking bullshit

Like finally he can be happy

But god, give us fucking SOME development that isn’t damage control

At least I liked whoever he married in those background scenes despite never learning his name

MATT’S HAIRCUT IS A TRAVESTY at the end

He looks way better with long hair

What the fuck was with the lions just dipping??????????

Tbh that shit made me cry

And now they’re just chilling out in space??????

Pros

The beginning of the season was actually surprisingly really good? Like, I was nearly invested the whole time up until episode 8?????? And then it got fucking insane and weird with no explanation.

THE ANIMATION IS GORGEOUS

Baby Lotor was so fucking cute, I adore him.

Those small Klance scenes killed me

Keith supporting and validating everything Lance has done and just being a great bf in general

That romantic ass sunset scene (you CANNOT tell me that shit was platonic)

We could have had it all yo :(

Surprisingly really liked Kinkade’s vlog episode, it made me like the MFE pilots

I didn’t care about them at ALL in s7 but now I like them more

Just Kinkade and Rizavi tho

Some tasty VeronicaxAcxa shit

That’s lesbian activity

Thank god Bex was right when she said Kacxa wasn’t gonna be a thing

Old Paladin’s were pretty cool except for the bullshit talking

BAD. ASS. VOLTRON/ATLAS FUSION.

Thank GOD Galra Emperor Keith wasn’t a thing

Coran keeping Allura’s memory alive keeps me alive

HIS TOAST TO HER HAD ME CRYING

THEY REALLY WERE FAMILY

Thank god it doesn’t seem like Lance is insanely depressed a year after Allura’s death, this kid needs closure and to move on and find some semblance of happiness that doesn’t revolve around romance

Small Klance moments at the end

That fucking reunion at the end made me cry

At least we got a mlm kiss, even though it’s garbage :)

List of Those Done Dirty

ALLURA

Lance

Lotor

Shiro

Adam

The Whole Fucking Fandom

All in all, fuck v slur, 3/10 for the season and 4.5/10 for the whole show. Seasons 1-3 are the only canon seasons. Except for parts of Season 5 and 6. Those can stay.

Also Klance is Canon King.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Chapter 27 draft

How did things wind up like this? Allura and Lance were in healing pods. Shiro was healing down in a prisoner pod so he couldn't escape. His mother had a nasty concussion, and Hunk was covered in Lance's blood. His boyfriend was pregnant... Lance was pregnant with his pup... Why hadn't he told him? He told him he'd support him, no matter what happened... but Lance hadn't told him. Was he ashamed? Did he hate him? Why would he risk the pups like that? Sitting on the edge of the central platform, Keith stared at Lance's unconscious form. His boyfriend must have been so lonely... and so very scared. He thought he knew everything... but he didn't. He didn't know anything all.

 "Keith"

Placing her hand on his shoulder, his mother sank down next to him

"He didn't want anyone to know honey"

She knew... How did she know? And how come he wasn't more shocked

"He said the father didn't want to have kids... but he didn't want anyone else to know before he did. I'm guessing you're the father"

"Y-yeah... he knows... I told him I'd always support his choices! I don't know why he didn't tell me?! They're my pup too..."

Wrapping his non broken arm around his mother, Keith felt so broken inside. He didn't expect Coran to have some of the answers

"Keith, Lance told us you promised to stop looking for you mother if he fell pregnant. He agonised over telling you, and when he finally did, it was the same day you found your mother"

"He what?"

"He tried to tell you. He didn't know if he should even keep them because you seemed so scared over your Galra bloodline. He might not have gone about it the best way, but he was trying to protect you"

"I was there when he lost the first ones! I held him when he passed them! He knows I cared about them!"

Keith was yelling now. He didn't want answers from Coran. He wanted them from Lance

"Allura told me you freaked out over the possibility of him being pregnant after the Kral Zera... Lance didn't know what to do or say. You scared him that day. And every time he started getting excited about them, he would always get upset right after. He felt like he didn't have a right to be happy, when you wouldn't be..."

"If he'd just told me... we could have talked..."

His mother hushed him softly, but her words didn't make him feel any less betrayed

"He said the alpha didn't love him anymore but he'd decided to keep the pups"

"I do love him! I love him so much I hate him!"

 Forgetting he had an audience, Hunk plopped down next to him, and Pidge beside him

"Lance loves you Keith. He went back to fight because he loves you"

"But he's pregnant... I don't think he can survive losing another pup"

"Then we help him. We be there for him the best we can be. Lance would do the same for all of us"

Placing his hand on his shoulder, Hunk just let it sit there, the alpha silently telling he was there for him no matter what happened.

  *

With Haggar's ship approaching, they were now faced with a new problem. Shiro. No not-Shiro couldn't pilot the Black Lion, even if he wasn't currently contained, it was impossible with only one arm. Allura had awoken, so they their Blue Paladin, but Lance was still unconscious. Staring down at the two Bayard's in his hands, he'd thought he'd passed over the mantle of being a Paladin forever

"Keith, we can't make this choice for you, but the fact you piloted the Black Lion remains. Voltron needs a leader now. A leader who understands both sides of this war"

He didn't want to be a leader. He wanted to tuck his tail between his legs and wait until Lance woke up

"Keith. I'll stay with Lance. You do what you need to do"

Looking to his mother, the choice had been made before he'd even lifted the Red Bayard. Passing it to his mother, Keith nodded to his friends

"I don't know what we'll be able to accomplish with the four of us, but right now, we need to fight. Haggar knows the truth about what happened to Shiro and she's responsible for the condition Lance is in. We need to make her talk"

"That might not be so easy"

Those weren't the words he expected from Allura. Turning to Allura, Allura held her head a little higher

"It is my belief that Haggar is Honerva. The Altean alchemist who opened the rift originally. Lotor refuses to believe it, but Haggar had Altean marks, and Zarkon was married to Honerva. I think she used Shiro to watch us visit Oriande, for her it must have been too tempting to pass up, and no doubt she spent centuries searching for it. If she accessed the knowledge there, there's no telling how powerful she is now"

"Did you say there was a guardian?"

"Only worthy Altean's were permitted access to the secrets of Oriande. It worries me she might have found another way"

"So it's entirely possible that everything that happened since Shiro's return was all part of Haggar's plan. By letting Shiro "escape", she was manipulating all of us without us even knowing. She used Shiro's status to align us with Lotor, and then to have Lotor crowned as Emperor. We've played right into her hands"

The disgust in Hunk's voice left him off guard. Hunk was the most rational of them all, so to hear him put things in such a tone only showed the gravity of the situation

"In any case, we need to stop her and to do that, we need to get on her ship. Do we know who is with her?"

Stepping forward, Pidge nodded

"The Galra that were with Lotor. They were with her at the Kral Zera"

"That makes sense. Those closest to Lotor... because of Lotor, they were branded criminals, I can't imagine they're too happy about him now being Emperor"

"Speaking of Lotor, where is he? Shouldn't he be sending someone to deal with Haggar?"

Allura frowned at Pidge

"He's busy quelling inner power struggles at the moment, he said he'd be here as soon as he could be"

Late. Lotor was definitely going to be late, and then no doubt the man would fawn over Allura. Keith was 99 percent sure that's what Lance would say if he was here. This was the second longest period of time he'd spent away from the omega since Lance went in. Once Allura had woken, she'd traded places with him, promising to keep Lance in the room on the off chance Lance woke while he was healing. He hadn't. A quintant and a half later and he still hadn't. With Allura awake, they'd been able to wormhole away from Haggar's ship, but now they'd regrouped enough to take the fight to her

"I just hope taking down Haggar won't be see as a violation of peace. It would be the perfect thing to turn the Galra further against us"

"Even within the Galra, Haggar isn't popular"

"I mean to say. I just hope we're making the right decision"

  *

Sitting in the Black Lion, he could feel the beasts confusion. He'd abandoned her, and let Shiro take her back without fighting, now here he was trying to reestablish his connection with her. Letting out a deep breath, he felt for her mental link. It was there, yet so very weak. He wasn't even sure she was going to accept him yet

"Keith?"

"I can feel her, but she's testing me"

"Um, bud. We don't have time for her to be testing you"

"I know that"

"Well hurry up, Haggar could resume her attack at any moment"

Come on... move! How could he make his thoughts any clearer? If she didn't want him, he couldn't force her to accept him... but right now, he needed the power to save the people he cared about... and his pups

"Move already!"

Pushing the controls forward, the lights of the cockpit finally came to life

"Yes! I know I'm not Shiro, but we have to go. We can't let more people suffer and I'm not going to run away anymore"

 He'd forgotten how smooth the Lion's were to pilot, and the feeling of her in his mind. Dodging and weaving as Haggar's canons fired, the aim was to enter the ship through the landing bay, then fight their way through. The didn't necessarily want to destroy the ship until after they'd dealt with Haggar. The chance she'd escape was too high if they just went in firing... so hand to hand combat was the best solution. Without Shiro, they were definitely at a disadvantage, and his pride was still smarting after being knocked down by Shiro. Dodging another pink burst, Keith watched as Hunk returned fire

"Guys. The big canon is charging up"

"We need to take it out before it fires. We don't know what Haggar's done to the quintessence"

Activating his blade, Keith turned Black as he she flew towards the canon. Striking the ship just below the canon, the blade sliced through like a knife through jelly, leaving a trail of explosions in its wake

"Keith, it's still charging. Guys, get out of the way"

Turning Black back to face his friends, the damage had thrown the canons aim off. The huge purple burst disintegrating the space debris just short of where the castle was "hidden"

"Whoa! That's not good"

"Priority is taking out that canon. We can't let the blast hit the castle"

We can't let the blast hit the castle and kill Lance, Coran or his mother was what he really meant. The castle couldn't be replaced, but the people on it were much more important to him than the ship it's self

"This would be so much easier if we could just form Voltron"

"Keith, tell that boyfriend of yours to wake up already"

"Don't you guys know how stubborn Lance is? He'll wake up when he's ready, and not a tick sooner"

"Yeah. He really loves his sleep"

"Enough. It's charging up again"

He needed all the brain power he had not to think of Lance as it was... and even if his friends were joking, he wouldn't be able to rid this pit of anxiety from his stomach until he saw his boyfriend's blue eyes again.

  *

Waking to the sound of the castle alarms blaring, it took Lance a long moment to realise he was still alive. He'd been hit... the pups... How long had he been in the healing pod and why were the alarms going off? Stumbling out the pod, his hand went to his side... there'd been so much blood... too much blood... the pups? Did he lose them?

"Lance!"

Looking up, he found Krolia rushing over to him, the woman looked so relieved that he felt he guilty

"K-Krolia? What's going on? Where is everyone?"

Pulling him against her, the Galra woman's left hand went straight to his stomach. Squeaking in shock and confusion, his panicking omega couldn't take being touched without knowing the condition of the pups. Trying to pull away, he found Krolia's grip only tightened on him as he did

"Krolia?! Krolia, you're scaring me"

"Your pups, I can feel them"

She... she could do what? She'd smelt his pregnancy before a whole ship full of alpha's had, and it was already clear the rest of her senses were incredibly sharp

"You... what?"

Resting her head on his shoulder, Krolia seemed to sag a little against him. Her concerned scent filling with guilt

"I'm so sorry Lance. I'm the one who hit you... the Galra in me wanted to destroy Shiro, but the shot went wide, and hit you as you swung down... I never meant to hurt you"

Krolia hit him? That... that made more sense than Shiro hitting. He remembered he couldn't figure out how it'd happened... He couldn't imagine what that would have been like for Krolia...

"Krolia, the pups are... they're alive right?"

"Yes"

"Then it's ok. I know you wouldn't have done it intentionally, and you even tried to protect me... I'm the one who should be saying sorry"

Pulling back, Krolia placed her hand on his shoulder with a nod

"Then perhaps, we are both to blame in our ways"

"Yeah... just... please don't tell Keith you were the who hit me. I don't want to ever come between you guys, and he kind of loses his head when I'm involved"

"I noticed... I never thought my son would be the father, or that I would have the chance to know my grandchildren"

"I bet Keith never thought he'd be a father... he was so against it... Where is he? And why are the castle alarms going off?"

"The others are fighting. Allura managed to move the castle away from Oriande, but Haggar followed. Keith has once again taken up the role as Black Paladin"

"And Shiro?"

"He's been detained in a prisoner pod"

Good... that was probably for the best

"Lance, how did you know to sever Shiro's arm?"

Sever sounded so disgusting and so intentionally cruel

"I didn't... when he hurt Keith, and when I saw he was going to kill you, I lost my head. Shiro even without his arm activated is imposing enough, but I thought if I could at least... disarm him..."

He winced at his own choice of words, but didn't have a better one

"... then maybe we'd stand a chance. He's a formidable alpha, and even Keith going feral couldn't bring him under control"

"Lance, your kindness is admirable, but it can also be a weakness. You nearly lost your own life, and those of your pups. Keith's pups"

"It would have been worth it if meant saving you all. You said they're fighting? We need to help"

"Lance, you just stepped out the healing pod"

"If the others are fighting, I need to help. They can't form Voltron without the Red Lion"

"Are you sure this is what you want? To return to the battlefield?"

Why was Krolia even asking that? It wasn't like he had a choice. He couldn't run just because he was pregnant

"I'm sure. I'm not just fighting for my friends, I'm fighting so these guys don't have to"

 Placing his hand on his stomach, Lance smiled at the swell. His pups were alright... and Keith knew he was the father. It probably wasn't the best way to tell him, but he'd gotten to tell him the truth and that he loved him

"Then you'll need this"

Pulling his Bayard from behind her back, Krolia looked down to it

"It's not easy to be a mother and a warrior, there will come a time when you will need to choose"

"I'm going to be the Red Paladin until I physically can't be. No matter what"

"Even if it's against Keith's wishes?"

"It wouldn't be the first time I made him mad"

Taking his Bayard, Lance took a deep breath before nodding to Krolia

"Get up to the bridge and help Coran. The last thing we need is the castle defences going down and Shiro escaping"

Leaving her with those parting words, Lance took off running towards Red.

  *

With the canon finally disabled, they were able to continue with their initial plan, but now they were entering through the giant hole caused by the explosion. Keith's heart was racing as he dropped down through the shaft panel that seperate the corridor from the outer damage

"It's clear"

It shouldn't be clear. Or this silent. Something felt wrong... dropping down next to him, Hunk, Pidge and Allura all cast him the same apprehensive look

"Something's wrong"

"Did Haggar already escape?"

"I don't see how she could have"

"Then why is it so silent?"

"We should stick together. Hunk, you and I will take point. Pidge, you and Allura watch behind"

"Keith, I'm not picking up any life signs"

"That's impossible. What about energy readings?"

Tapping away on her small sensor screen, Pidge frowned

"There's an unusual reading coming from below us... and it's moving... fast!"

"It has to be Haggar. If she's found a way to increase her powers through Altean Alchemy..."

"Allura, if you start to feel anything remotely Shiro like, you need to tell us"

"I don't feel anything strange..."

"Allura, anything at all. Now let's go"

 It soon became clear why they didn't find any life signs. Dead crew members lay across the ship in near skeletal form. It was like the very life had been sucked from them. Even the sentries were the same, a fine layer of what seemed to be rust across them as if they'd been there for a thousand years

"Keith... I'm getting a real bad feeling about this"

Holding his hand up, Keith peaked around the corner

"Keith?"

"There's something there"

Looking up, the shadow down the end off the hall seemed to lock onto him, and Keith felt his whole body turning cold. It wasn't until his body was jerked backwards that he even realised he'd frozen

"Keith!"

"We need to get out of here right now!"

Alarmed by his words, it took a moment for his friends to move, a moment which was long enough for that shadow to dart by them, and cut off their exit. Standing there, Haggar had them all caught in her grasp. The crippled woman was no longer hunched, instead there stood now radiant young woman. This had to be Honerva... Honerva before she became Haggar. Trying to look away, Keith found himself unable to, and that same cold feeling came rushing back. If she was doing what he thought she was doing, they were screwed.

  *

"Lance, can you read me?"

"Go ahead Coran"

"I can't get in contact with the other Paladins. Something must have gone wrong with the mission"

No. No Keith was alright. They all had to be alright

"Coran, use the ship's scanners and send me their location"

"Lance, you can't"

"Coran. We don't know what's going on. Keep it together. If I have to, so do you!"

Guiding his Red Lion towards Haggar's ship, Lance kept his eyes trained for anything at all. The amount of space junk kind of made it hard though, but at least he seemed to be moving through what was once the top of Haggar's ship

"Coran..."

"I've found them, I'm sending the location you way, but an unusual energy signature has also been picked up. It seems to be closing in on them"

"Lance, there's a fair chance that's Haggar. If she's as powerful as I suspect, you need to get them out of there"

He was just going to land near where he could see everyone else's lions, but if that was the case...

 Weaving his way around the ship, he followed Coran's directions, until finally taking a page out of Hunk's book. Activating his lions blade, Lance stabbed into the ship's hull, before deactivating it, and pushing his Lion's face into the space. In front of him Keith, Hunk, Allura and Pidge all were standing still like statues. This wasn't good.

 Exiting through Red's mouth, Lance had his gun ready as he moved to face the same direction as everyone else. Catching a shadow in the corner of his eye, the omega fired blindly. Something inside of him was screaming at him not to look, and it wasn't just his omega. Closing his eyes, he sent half a dozen shots blindly down the corridor, before looking to his friends.

 The effect on his friends was instant, and the air grew warmer around him. He hadn't even noticed it'd gotten so cold

"Lance!?"

Keith was the first to move, his boyfriend? striding over in a manner that Lance was sure meant he was about to be hit, but then threw his arms around him

"I'm so relieved"

Smiling shyly, Lance rested his forehead against Keith's

"Hey Keith"

"Don't you ever scare me like that again"

"I can't say I won't... we both know me"

Their tight hug, turned into a team hug, with Lance all but squashed against his alpha

"You had us so worried!"

"Why didn't you tell us you were pregnant?!"

"Lance..."

"Guys... it's ok. I'm ok and they're ok... but I'm more worried about you. Coran has been trying to contact you"

Their group hug fell apart just as fast as it'd begun

"Haggar. She's changed"

"Everyone on here's dead"

"And I get the feeling we were about to..."

Lance frowned at them

"In that case, we need to get off this ship. When I arrived, none of noticed the big Lion head"

Turning to look to Red, it was like they were all just noticing her there

"Yeah. We should go..."

 After moving to drop everyone back at their lions, he didn't want to let Keith out of his sight. He was still worried about the last effects of whatever had happened on Haggar's ship, as well as the fact he was nervous as hell as now that Keith knew he was pregnant. Even though it would be only doboshes until the saw each other again, he hated watching his alpha leave.

  *

Landing his Lion near Red, Keith raced from Black. All he could think about was making sure Lance was alright. Running over to Red, he met his omega at the bottom Red's mouth

"Lance..."

"Keith... I... um..."

Whatever Lance wanted to say didn't matter. Reaching out, Keith pulled Lance close, the omega letting out a soft sigh as he did

"I was so worried about you... are you ok? Should you be up and moving?"

"Keith, I'm fine. I'm sorry I didn't tell you... I didn't think you wanted to be a dad"

"I never meant to make you feel like you couldn't tell me"

"I wanted too... at the Kral Zera, but you freaked out so badly... I started to wonder if I should keep them... and then..."

Lance sniffled softly against him

"Are they alright?"

"Yeah... your mum said she could feel them"

"Krolia did?"

"She was waiting for me when I woke up... and I kind of talked to her. She could smell I was pregnant when we met, and wanted to see if I was alright"

So his mum had known? Why hadn't she told him? No. She was probably trying to help Lance in her own way

"Can I?"

Raising his head, Lance blinked at him, before nodding

"Do you want to?"

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't"

Struggling out of his jacket, Lance shyly raised his shirt. The small bump took Keith's breath away. His omega was carrying his pup. Placing his hand against Lance's stomach, his boyfriend let out a soft purr

"Does that feel nice?"

"You have no idea... are you sure you're ok with this? I mean... one pup would be hard enough, but two... I won't blame you if you want to walk away"

Two pups... his alpha couldn't be more pleased. He wanted to yell with happiness

"I'm not walking away. I told you I'd always support you, and... honestly I'm really scared, but I'm really happy"

Letting out a small sob, Lance stumbled as he reached for him. It was only a step, but it still scared the hell out of Keith. Moving his hands to Lance's arse, he only had to squeeze lightly for Lance to take the hint and let him lift him

"I love you Keith. I love you so much that I don't know what to do"

"I love you too baby, always"

 "Keith, I'm sorry to interrupt, but we need you in the bridge"

Stupid Coran. They were having a moment. Didn't they deserve a moment to themselves

"We'd better go... you're the leader of Voltron now, we can't make everyone wait"

"I'm not the leader"

"It kind of comes with the Black Lion"

Oh. Right... he... he'd piloted Black again

"Can I carry you?"

Lance nodded against him, sniffling until he could get his words out again

"You probably better. I don't think I can let you go. I'm so relieved you're ok that I feel exhausted"

"I'm sure you didn't bother to eat anything either, did you?"

"No. The castle alarms were going off, and you were out there... I wanted to get to all of you as soon as I could"

"Keith?"

"Alright Coran, I'm on my way. Hunk, can you please organise something for Lance to eat. My silly boyfriend came to rescue us without eating"

"He did what? Lance, you're pregnant"

Groaning at Hunk's words, Lance's legs tightened around him

"I know I'm pregnant. I've been pregnant for the last 11 movements"

"11?"

Lance nodded against him

"Wow... right. You're going to eat, and we're going to see what Coran wants"

Starting across the hangar bay, Keith felt like he was dreaming. Lance was actually talking to him. Letting him hold him and Lance loved him. He couldn't get any luckier.

 Slowing as the bridge door came into view, Lance wriggled in his hold

"Hey Keith?"

"Mmm?"

"Can you say it again?"

"Can I say what again?"

"That I'm your boyfriend"

Kissing Lance's temple, he wondered if his boyfriend had any idea how adorable he was

"Lance, you're my boyfriend and my omega. I'll say it as many times as you want, because I'm hoping some day soon, you'll be me mate"

Letting out a loud purr, Lance moved to kiss him. Pinning his boyfriend against the bridge door, the alpha moaned into Lance's mouth as they momentarily forget where they were. He wanted Lance so badly, not just because that same sweet smell was beginning to pour from his mate, but because he wanted to make sure every part of Lance's perfect body was really alright. As Lance began to rock against him, Keith's hand flew out, trying to find some kind of purchase in order to keep them upright, only his hand hit the door pad, and the door slid open as Lance let out a particularly lewd mew.

 "Guys! Seriously!"

"My eyes!"

"Keith, you can do what you want to Lance later, but for now, we have other things to deal with"

Admist their friends grumbling, there came a sharp wolf whistle, looking straight at his mother, the Galra shrugged. Clearly she approved

"Keith, can you put me down?"

"Nope"

Lance sounded mortified, which Keith just found at that more adorable. Changing his hold on Lance, he moved to his boyfriends usual seat, before sinking down as Lance tried to escape his hold

"Keeeeith"

"Shush. Coran, what's going on?"

Bringing over a plate of cookies, Hunk passed them to Lance

"We had some hidden away..."

"Thanks Hunk. Lance, eat"

"But no one else is"

"I don't think anyone minds if you do"

Mumbling under his breath, Lance picked up a cookie and began to nibble on it. With Lance finally eating, Keith gave his Coran his full attention, only his mother began talking

"We found these three trying to sneak onto the ship"

Pulling up the camera footage to the cells, Lotor's three main goons looked less than impressed behind the electric bars

"They asked us to take them into custody. They want to speak to Lotor"

"They're lucky to have survived, have they said anything else?"

"No, but they seemed pretty spooked by whatever happened on the ship"

"Speeshing of wissh... whass wash with youss guys"

Keith seemed to be the only one who understood what Lance was trying to say around his mouthful of cookie, staring at his boyfriend, he could see them all slowly working out what he asked

"He wanted to know what was with us. Did you guys feel it too, when Haggar looked at you?"

"That icy coldness like she was sucking our souls out?"

"We need to stop calling her Haggar. She was definitely Honerva. It felt like she was trying to get into my head. We should contact Lotor with what we've learnt"

"Allura, I'll leave you to do that. As for those three, we'll wait until you've talked to Lotor before deciding upon what to do with them. We can't send them back to Haggar, Honerva and I don't trust Lotor... especially now we have confirmation Haggar is really his mother"

Nodding in lap, Lance was already munching on another cookie

"Coran, move the castle further away from Haggar's ship, but not so far as that we can't maintain visual. Once that's done, I want each of us to be scanned in order to make sure there's no ill effects from whatever happened. Mum, can you contact Kolivan and let him know about everything that's happened. Let him know that if the choice comes down to supporting Lotor or the Blade of Marmora, we will be allying ourselves with the Blade"

Purring in his lap, Keith looked down to find Lance staring up at him

"What?"

"I'm really proud of you"

Feeling his cheeks warm, Keith pressed a kiss to Lance's crumb covered lips

"Guys! Can we make it a rule, no kissing when Keith's giving orders"

"And no making out against innocent doors"

"And no breaking up again"

"Oh! And we have to be at Lance's next scan. I wanna see the pup"

"If we agree, will you guys go do something other than being here?"

Pidge and Hunk nodded quickly before high fiving. Leaning up, Lance whispered in his ear

"Or we could go somewhere else?"

"Never mind. You guys stay, we're going"

[ridleytheknight]

It’s Over, Isn’t It? (Langst Song-fic)

Here it is! An Altean Lance songfic! The song in this fic is it’s over isn’t it from the Steven Universe fandom! The verison I listen to varies between NWTB and another youtuber who I can’t find in anything but AMVs! Either way! Thank you to @angielmao-blog for being my beta on this little one-shot and I hope you all enjoy! Warnings this fic include.

Corruption

Murder

Treason

Emotional Dependence

Child Neglect

Experimentation

Non-con Body Modifications

Please Enjoy!!!

---

I was fine, with the men

Who would come into her life now and again

He watched with calm eyes as Zarkon walked out of his mother’s room once again, adjusting his military outfit with hearts in his eyes. Lance blinked with his owlish eyes and looked away, the orange marks on his cheeks and his arms flaring and glowing a little more brightly before Lance calmed the flare of magic with deep breathes. Clenching his small childish fists as if the pressure and slight pain of the tight grip would help. Lance bit his lip and ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach.

            He always knew his mother was beautiful, that she’d find a man other than his father. He was fine with it too. She deserved to have someone, but there was something that itched at Lance, like a bad itch that you couldn’t figure out where it was or why. Something bothered him about Zarkon. Something in his soul tugged at Lance’s magic, the quintessence manipulation of water. An element that often offer shields and protection, as well as projected a dangerous drowning wave or shots of ice that could pierce the hardest shield and leave nothing behind.

Lance pushed the feeling back as his mother came out of her room, bun in perfect place, a smile directed right at him as she approached where he sat, playing with his sketchbook and the magic in his hands. Looking up and letting his mother grab him and hoist him onto her hip. Their beloved family cat traipsing at the heels of the mother and son. The brown haired Altean closed his orange-gold eyes relaxed.

Trust, he trusted her. He loved her. So he’d let her be happy and not say a word.

After all, he knew that she would always be his no matter what.

And that’s all the mattered, isn’t it?

I was fine, because I knew;

 that it didn’t really matter until you

Lance was never a jealous person per say. However, when his mother got pregnant with another child, Zarkon’s child, His new step-father's child. Lance could not help the sinking feeling in his stomach. The turning of the tides in his body, warning him that everything was going to change, and maybe not for the better. Jealousy and envy flooded his veins like a poison. But Lance fought back against it.

He loved her. He loved his mother. She was his, and he was hers.

And that’s all the mattered isn’t it?

I was fine, when you came;

And we fought like it was all some silly game

Smiling and laughing, begging to hold his new baby brother. Being met with a motherly smile as he got to hold his baby brother, Lotor, for the first time. Lance decided then that he was going to be a good big brother, lead and show his sibling the way.

 The brown haired boy still clung to that thought years later as Lotor waddled from him to his mother with a wide smile and running to his mother. Who grinned at the sight of the toddler, lifting him into her arms and nuzzling his hair like she’d done to Lance once upon a time. Causing that burning feeling to rise up and threaten to eat and chew at his morals and personality again. Chewing as if it were trying to turn him into the monster it was, but he pressed it back again. Smiling with burning eyes as his mother barely blinked at him, preoccupied with Lotor who demanded the all attention his three year old body could muster.

She was happy.

And that’s all that mattered, isn’t it?

Over her, who’d she choose;

After all those years I never thought I’d lose.

Lance watched with misty eyes from a distance as his mother showed his baby brother around the empire, to the lions and the labs, showing him all that would be under his watchful eye one day. He was her pick for filling in her spot. He was her favorite.

It wasn't Lance. Not anymore.

Closing his eyes, memories of when his mother smiled at him like that washed over him. Her proud eyes and bright smile, gentle hands cradling him close, cuddling him. The happiness in her eyes when she looked at him.

Now, she still smiled, still kissed his head, but her eyes were on Lotor the whole time. As if she pictured showing affection to his brother rather than him. His brother basking in the attention with a smug smile. Showing that he would always be the favorite of both their ‘parents’. That he was no one’s favorite. He was no longer the perfect son. He wasn’t the idol big brother now. He wasn’t anything in the eyes of King Alfor. He wasn’t anything to anyone.

Not even his own father had wanted him. He left Lance.

But, she was happy, smiling with a new husband and a better son. One that didn’t remind her of what she’d lost. Grinning as she showed him the beautiful sights that she and Lance had once shared. They were probably still beautiful to her, but now as Lance walked to thise same sights, alone, going to draw them with his sketchbook. They only looked dull and dead.

Was this life without her?

Oh well, she was in love. She was happy.

Lance wasn’t happy, but the embrace of loneliness and depression kept him company.

She was happy.

And that’s all that mattered, isn’t it?

It’s over, isn’t it? Isn’t it?

Isn’t it, over?

The memories of family dinners and happiness washed over Lance as he now sat at the age of twelve, In a dim dark hallway of a ship. Dark black and grey with harsh purple lighting, not like the warm and light of his home.

Altea was gone. Dead. His step-father had destroyed it as he watched. Able to help, but doing nothing. As helpless as a child as he watched everything he had ever known and loved get blown to dust and die. Everything he had ever seen.

The dull but familiar sights. His house on the corner.

What did it matter anymore?

You won, and she chose you;

And she loved you, now she’s gone.

Now she was gone. His mother. Replaced with a husk that Lance couldn’t even recognize, he didn’t even know her anymore. Not after what Zarkon had done to keep her alive. Now her hair hung in white shambles, her marks running down her face like blood red tears. It made Lance’s own marks glow in slight pain. Those marks that used to match his were now only a show of her suffering. His heart ached and the storm of the ocean raged in him. She disregarded him. She still favored Lotor and the man who ruined her.

Gone. His mother was truly gone. Not happy. Gone.

He didn’t know how to feel, because now he was truly and completely alone.

It made suffering so much worse.

What did any of this matter anymore?

War and Glory,

Reinvention,

The war raged on for years, thousands of them. And yet, Lance never grew old. His mother had changed and was gone, but there was some part of her that still held on. He guessed. Why else would he wake up strapped to a metal table so often, Pure quintessence shot up, burning and eating him alive like the jealousy of so long ago. The only difference being this pain was real and his mother listened to him scream with a sick grin and a gleam in her eyes.

Not a flash of the woman she had once been.

The woman he’d loved fiercely.

            Now, was his fear.

            Yet, he still loved her.

 Lance couldn’t talk much, he guessed, he’d changed as well. His marks were dull against his skin, the magic in his veins was heavy, but he refused to use it. He grew quiet and cynical. No longer the one to joke, smile, and be happy. The only way that Lance recognized himself was in old photographs and the sketches he would make of planets before Zarkon and his mother would leave them in ruin.

 Blood strew over the grounds that Lance would walk, Glory of the Galran empire to every planet. He received the glares of pity, curiousity, or disgust as he’d walk without blinking at the gore. He’d seen to much of it to care. He was the only Altean left that was not a druid. He was the one they blamed. A traitor to the people he loved. Defecting to the people who killed his planet.

They didn’t understand who he was.

They didn’t care.

No one did. Not even himself anymore.

He was a husk now too.

Nothing mattered.

Fusion, Freedom

Her attention.

            Soon, Lance started welcoming the pain of the metal table. His mind twisting the pain to pleasure. After all, when he was being cut open, stabbed and prodded, he had her attention at last. Even as his body convulsed and screamed in pain. When his vision would swim and his marks would flash colors that were not his own to the curiosity and amusement of the witch that had once been his mother.

            Finally, he felt free of the confusion. He knew who he was now. He was her son again.

The pain did not matter.

She was pleased with him.

            And that’s all the mattered, isn’t it?

Out in daylight, my potential

Bold; Precise. Experimental.

He was her experiment now, was that close to be a son? Lance didn’t know anymore, he didn’t recognize anything anymore. The honey gold and orange of his eyes and marks replaced with a glaring red that bled into purples and indigos, turning fully black at times. The gentle waves and tides of the sea in his being turned from the moods of the ocean to a poison filled lake. Burning acidic toxin flooding his vein. Burning away any feeling of guilty of sick turning of his stomach as his magic would shoot down so many locals. Sins splayed out in the plain day light as his magic boldly shoot from his skin. Contrasting his tan skin and scars. Precise edges and lifts to his magic. Shots of quintessence.

Now his magic was not water, it was heavy like liquid metal in his veins. Dark black. Forming harsh edges that cut and stabbed through beauty without hesitation. 

Dark. Dirty. Heavy. Angry. Black. Hatred. 

The magic rejected its new form. Spilling out of control. It wasn’t his magic. This wasn’t him. He knew this. His mind tried to steer him to her, but his heart knew this was not the ocean. He had failed.

Shocking hands and electric currents as an experiment failed. Losing control and killing so many people out of his mind. Up. Down. Left. Right. Who was he? Who was he? Where was Lance? The magic burned. He screamed. It was pain. Who was he? Where was the boy who was Honerva’s son? Where was the Altean boy he once was? Where was the calming ocean that once surrounded his broken soul with comfort?

            What could the ocean do for his heavy dirty soul now?

He was only Haggar’s experiment now.

That’s all he mattered to her.

Even as she forced him to take a human form, hiding his marks, his ears, telling him to gain information. Infiltrate into the planet, and abandoning him on the planet’s surface. No way to call home. He was useless to her, a failed experiment now that his magic was so frazzled with confusion and sick thoughts, tainted and unyielding. Out of control.

He was alone again. No attention. No love.

Who am I now in this world without her?

Petty and dull, with the nerve to doubt her.

Had he ever been meant to report information back to her? Or had this been a set up? Had she just abandoned him? Her useless experiment. A failure that she didn’t think was worthy of her time to even kill. What was he anymore? Who was he?

The thoughts felt sick in his mind. Was this who he was anymore? Without his original mother. 

Petty. Angry. Negative. Cynical. 

With the gall to doubt her, his mother, the one that had been his idol. He was supposed to always love her. He was supposed to never leave her. He was supposed to not be like his father. Now, she was the one who left.

Why him?

Why does it matter?

What does it matter? It’s already done.

Now I’ve got to be there, for her son.

That question entered his mind a lot now, as he sat alone on an Earthen beach. The waves lapped at his ankles of his new ‘home’ the earthen family happy to take him in. It had surprised him. That the humans were so warm. So eager to take him in. So loving to a person they had never met.

It made Lance feel sick. He was a shitty excuse for a son. He was worthless. Yet this family. They wanted to call him their son. They wanted to give him their family name, and to show him love. The love that the old version of him, the one that still hid from the poison, craved. Lance felt weak to it. Too weak to fight it, too done.

            Accepting it felt so much better. Sitting in the love of a family. In the ocean tides. Lance was surprised as his eyes finally faded from purple when he experimentally released the lock on his magic. No. His eyes were not the honey gold color anymore. They were blue instead. Like the earth’s ocean, and Lance could feel the sea of his home roaring in his veins once again. Love attacking the sickness in him. The poison bleeding out like blood and killing the evil person within.

Honerva’s son was back. 

Honerva was gone now. Ruined and changed by hatred. No matter what Lance’s old illusions had been. She was gone. Now, he had to be strong for her memory. He had to be there for himself. He had to be the son she loved when she still lived.

He had to be Lance.

Loving. Caring. Child of the sea.

            And that’s what mattered now.

It’s over, isn’t it?

Why can’t I move on?

Accepting it was easy on earth. But now that he’d left those safe ocean waves. Lance feared. Feared being corrupted by quintessence once more without the earth to ground him. Feared that his family would change their minds about him in his absence. Yet, the other humans aboard the ship always soothed him. Lance, he smiled with Hunk, joked with Pidge, fought with Keith, stood proud for Shiro, and spoke with Coran. Yet, Lance hid from Allura. Hid who he was once he found out they were fighting the people he’d once been a part of. The experiment of. This was both his redemption and his hell. Lance didn’t know what he’d do if he were faced with the choice.

His mother. Or his family.

Why would the universe make him choose?

He was just a boy. Just an Altean boy. He wasn’t anything special.

That’s why the ocean in him stirred in this battle. The feeling of a foreboding doom rushing over him in waves. His magic was restrained, he refused to show or use it with his friends. They could not know. They could not fear him. He vowed to protect the planet that had returned the sea to him. Protect the family that returned him to himself.

But here he was now. She loomed in front of them, and he was the only one even slightly coherent. Standing with a gun to her. Perfect for vengeance. For Shiro. For his team. For his planet. More selfishly.

For abandoning him. For hurting him. For using him.

Yet, He still loved her.

That’s why, he couldn’t pull the trigger. That's why he only stood still frozen in shock as his teammates screamed at him to duck. That's why he only stood still as his magic pierced through him. Ocean waves rolling in anguish. His magic was to protect and to harm whatever threatened him or his loved ones.

But now, the one woman he loved. Was going to kill him.

The ocean could do nothing but grieve.

It was so fast. Her magic shot through him. A hole through his abdomen, and he stumbled. Her magic shot to try and grab Shiro, who was running to Lance’s fallen form. And his magic exploded, reacted immediately. Without permission. Bursting from him with a shot. Stabbing icicles. And she screamed. Falling to the floor with a wail as Lance himself was tackled, too late, to the floor by Shiro. Shiro immediately hovering over him in shock as Lance’s form settled in its natural skin. He felt the tingling of his glowing marks.

Shiro called out to him. Shouted his name, pressed a hand on the wound his magic was already working to clot and restore. Whispering reassurances as the team ran, either to support him, or to get a med pod ready. Allura standing over him, a hand over her mouth as she stared at him in shock. Lance caught a glimpse of himself in Shiro’s visor and stared for a second in shock.

Right there, was Honerva’s son. Honey gold eyes, orange and gold like the sun. Markings and tan skin glowing with pride, magic, potential, and happiness. Lance gave a wobbly grin and his eyes started streaming tears. He recognized himself again, but at what price, the grief of killing his mother? The blood on his hands?

Lance closed his eyes, his happy tears turning into tears of grief as the pain of both his injury and the death of his mother, and the realization that Allura now knew. Orange marking were rare. She knew who he was. She knew what he had done.

But he was not Haggar’s son.

He was Honerva’s son. Haggar killed Honerva. Now he killed Haggar.

It was over. Wasn’t it?

Isn’t it over finally?

Yet, the memories don’t stop. Lance still misses home. Lance still had a new home. Lance was Lance again. He was her son. And she was alive in him again. And yet the pain of a once closed wound was open again with the death of her body ripping open the closure he’d fought so hard for the first time she died of soul.

It hurt, but that didn’t matter.

He was cradled in the arms of his family. Any scorn they could throw at him. He could take with the memory of their warmth. Her warmth. Their rejection and hers was something he’d never accept, but they weren’t rejecting him. They were holding him. Begging for him to hold on.

She rejected him. She didn’t love him. Not like Honerva. Because she wasn’t her.

Why does it still hurt?

It’s over, isn’t it?

Why can’t I move on?

[witchy-writes]

And dark prince set his handsome eyes on me [chapter 7]

Stranded [part 1] ; you finally get to see how these two fell in love in this au

Lance sometimes wonders how different things would have been if “that” had never happened.

A year ago

Lance and the Red Lion were returning to the Castle-Ship when his lion picked up on a distress signal coming from a nearby planet.

The Paladin Code states that we must help all those in need.

Lance made a detour to go see who was in need of saving.

But there was something wrong with that planet. When he entered the atmosphere, his lion started to malfunction, not responding to him and went offline, causing Lance to crash on the desert planet. Luckily, he only hit his head on the control dashboard when his body was thrown forward from his seat.

He took a few minutes to recover from that, before trying to get the Red Lion back on. Seeing how nothing was working, he decided to step outside to search for any signs of the habitants. Sand covered the planet's surface and it was difficult for Lance to walk on it without almost sinking to his knees. He used his jet pack to make things easier. The heat was unbearable, but Lance kept going.

He had barely walked a mile when he found a ship, that was half-buried in the sand. Lance couldn’t help but feel like he saw it somewhere before.

Assuming this to be the ship who sent him the distress signal. Lance shouted, announcing himself as a paladin of Voltron.

No response. He climbed up the ship, until he reached the windshield and peeked into the cockpit. The pilot was there. Body slumped on their seat and helmet on their head, hiding their face.

Lance tapped the glass, but, once again, no response.

He had to get them out of there. His hands searched around until he found a lever. The glass swinged up enough for Lance to duck under it and get inside the ship.

He walked to the pilot and bent down to take off their helmet.

“Hey, everything is okay, I’m... Lotor!”, the prince’s helmet rolled down on the cockpit’s floor after Lance dropped it.

Lotor was sweating and his lips were chapped. He was clearly dehydrated. No wonder. The cockpit was burning like a furnace. How long had he been here? Vargas, Quintants?

If Lance left him there, he would die. Lance knew no one would judge him if he chose to do so.

The Paladin Code states that we must help all those in need.

Lance sighed and rolled his eyes.

---

Returning to his lion, with Lotor unconscious body, under the scorching hot sun, was a difficult task, but he somehow managed to do it.

Since Lotor was much taller than him and too heavy for him to carry in his arms like a damsel, and since dragging his feet on the sand would only slow them down, Lance had no choice but to carry him on his back.

Yup, a paladin of Voltron was giving the universe’s greatest enemy, after Zarkon, a piggyback ride.

The Red Lion’s cockpit was chilly and Lance could breath again. He fell to his knees and Lotor’s body fell down along with him, but not even that made him wake up.

Lance crawled away from the prince’s body and towards a white box that had a label that said ‘emergency stock’ in altean. In there was water and food rations, as well as some bandages and medicine to treat small injuries. It was Coran’s idea that each Paladin should have one of those in their lions, in case they got stranded, like Lance was, or hurt.

Lance made a mental note to thank Coran when the two meet again. He stabbed a straw through the water packet and took a big sip out of it. He sighed in contentment, and despite it being the best feeling in that moment, he knew he had to be careful with his supplies. The ‘emergency stock’ could last two weeks if he ration it properly. He didn’t know how long he would be stuck here.

Lance hadn’t forgotten about Lotor. He returned to his side and adjusted the prince's body, so his torso was resting on his lap. He held the back of Lotor's head as he poured the water into his mouth. He knew this wasn’t the best way to save Lotor from dehydration, but he couldn’t think of any other way for him to do it.

This did seem to finally wake Lotor up. He coughed and water trickled down his chin. His eyes snapped open. Once he saw Lance's face, he sat upright and pushed the paladin's off of him.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.”, Lance handed him the packet, that still had a bit of water in it. Lotor eyed it suspiciously, “It’s just water. Don’t worry, it’s not poisonous.”

Lotor continued to refuse it. Lance shrugged and got up, putting the packet back in the box. He sat down on his pilot seat and tried, once again, to get his lion to work.

“What are you doing here?”, Lotor asked.

“Your distress signal. At least, I assume it came from your ship.”

“It did.”, Lotor got up and walked closer to Lance. The paladin didn’t look up or tried to meet his gaze, focusing on the control panel, “I’m not going to be in debt to you for this, paladin.”

“Good. I don’t care.”, Lance frowned, still not making eye contact with the prince.

Lotor didn’t have a response to that, and simply walked away from him, “Let me out.”

“I wouldn't go outside if I were you.”, Lance looked over his shoulder, “It’s too hot. Plus, you have no idea what could be out there.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that. But I rather be out there than in here with you.”

Lance narrowed his eyes, his mouth set in a hard line, “And I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

But Lance complied anyway. His lion could still open his mouth, so he let Lotor walk out of the cockpit and into the desert.

He couldn’t force Lotor to stay there. He could have tried to convince him to stay, but it would most likely not have worked.

The night was starting to fall and Lance hadn’t been successful in getting the lion back online.

“Come on, Red.”, he begged, but nothing.

Lance slouched in his seat, defeated. He had tried to reach the other paladins through comm, but the planet also seemed to interfere with that and Lance only got static. The only thing he could do now was go to sleep and try again the next day.

Except, falling asleep was proving to be impossible.

The moment it became night, the temperature dropped like crazy and the cockpit was freezing.

Lance rubbed his hands and sides to keep himself warm, but it didn’t help much. He tried to sleep on his pilot seat, since the floor was too cold. How he wished the Red Lion could at least still be able to warm the cockpit for him.

As he closed his eyes to try to fall asleep for the seventh time, this time counting sheep, he heard a knock. Someone was knocking on his lion.

It was so dark, he couldn't see who or what was out there.

Lance materialized his bayard. There was always the possibility that a planet's habitants weren't very welcoming. And if these were Galra that came to rescue prince Lotor, Lance had to be ready.

Others knocks followed after the first one, these ones more frantic.

Lance pressed the button to open the maw of his lion and got his sniper rifle ready to defend himself of any hostility.

The paladin ended up lowering his weapon when he saw who it was.

“You?”

Lotor was shivering, his hands tucked under his armpits, and puffs of breath came out every time he exhaled.

Lotor hurried to get inside and Lance rushed to close his lion.

“It’s freezing out there.”, Lotor blew some hot air into his hands to warm them up and rubbed them together.

“So is in here.”

“Believe me. This feels like a sauna compared to out there.”

Lance sat down in his chair, legs crossed, and a smug grin on his face.

“What?”, Lotor said with a tone of annoyance as he kept trying to warm himself.

“Well, well, well. Look who came back, asking for shelter, after I told him it wasn’t such a good idea to go out there.”, Lance crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his seat.

Lotor squinted his eyes in anger, “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

“No, not really. Unlike you, I don’t get satisfaction in watching other people suffer.”

Lotor darted him an irritated look and then turned his back to him. His eyes landed on the ‘emergency stock’ box and he walked towards it, opening it without Lance’s permission, and taking out the packet that still had water in it.

“Not a word.”, he glared at Lance over his shoulder as he proceeded to drink through the straw.

---

Neither Lance or Lotor had any sleep that night. Not because they suspected the moment they closed their eyes, the other would take advantage to kill them in their sleep. But because it kept getting so goddamn cold as the night went on.

Lance wondered what kind of life forms could survive on this planet. He continued to try to fall asleep in his seat, while Lotor sat down in one corner, leaning against the wall, far away from Lance.

Lance started to count sheep, but whenever he felt the slightest bit sleepy and his eyelids heavy, Lotor’s groans and constant shifting would wake him up.

Lotor couldn’t find a comfortable position. When leaning against the wall wasn’t good enough for him, he curled up on the floor, but it wasn't better. He even tried using the ‘emergency stock’ as a pillow, which earned him a little snort from Lance.

Lotor did manage to sleep for five minutes, giving Lance some quiet, but he woke up, feeling uncomfortable, again, and he was back to finding another position to fall asleep, not giving Lance any chance to rest.

The sun began to appear, marking the start of a new day. Lance got out of his lion just to get those rays of sun to warm his body. During the day it was a burning hell, during the night it was a freezing hell, but during sunrise the temperature was perfect.

Lotor did the same. Rubbing his eyes and yawning, he stepped out of the lion’s mouth and basked in the sunlight.

Lance sat down, dipping his fingers into the sand, and laid back, closing his eyes. It almost felt like he was on the beach, back at home.

Hearing footsteps on the sand, Lance cracked an eye open and saw Lotor walking away.

“Where are you going?”

“Some of us would rather look for a way to leave this dry planet, rather than sunbathing.”

Lance stuck his tongue out and watched as Lotor disappeared in the distance.

As much as he hated to admit, Lotor was right. He couldn’t lay there in the sand all day, not just because the sun of this planet would burn him, but because if he doesn’t get Red to start working soon, the longer he would be stuck here with prince ‘Loturd’.

---

This was Lance's day. He tried and failed to get the Red Lion back online. Gave tiny bites on a yellow bar that tasted like almond, just enough to satisfy his hunger. Tried to fix his lion. Went outside and yelled to see if anyone yelled back at him. Drank water. Tiny bites on the yellow bar. Fix his lion. Yelled, in hopes of getting a response. Drank water. Tiny bites on the yellow bar. Fix, yell, drink, eat...

As the sun went down, Lance fell into his seat, hands over his eyes as he let out a long sigh. It was too soon to lose hope, but Lance couldn’t help but feel like nothing was working at all and he had no idea of what else to do.

Lowering his hands, he saw, through the windshield, Lotor approaching.

Lotor didn’t need to knock this time for Lance to let him inside.

“Any luck out there?”

“No. You?”

“Nope.”

Lotor sat in his corner and Lance remained in his seat. Neither saying a word. Until the rumble of Lotor’s stomach broke the silence.

Lance swore he saw a faint blush on the prince’s cheeks.

“Here. Eat this.”, Lance picked up the half-eaten bar that he left on top of the dashboard and threw it across the cockpit to Lotor, who caught it in his hands.

Lotor seemed to hesitate, eyeing Lance and then the yellow bar with little bite marks on it, but he made up his mind about the matter, and gobbled it up. He ate so hastily, that he almost ate the plastic wrapper too.

The sun went away and everything was dark outside. The temperature in the cockpit dropped again.

Another mental note that Lance made was that he would have to tell Coran to include blankets on the ‘emergency stock’. And sleeping pills, because the lack of comfort was making Lotor agitated once more and if Lotor couldn’t get any shut-eye, neither could Lance.

Lance started to think about what his favorite hero would do in this situation. Han Solo cut that Tauntaun open to save Luke from extreme hypothermia. The lack of sleep hadn’t made Lance desperate enough to cut Lotor open and crawl inside his body just to keep warm. Yet.

There was another way. But Lance highly doubted Lotor would go along with it.

“Lotor.”

Lotor, who was hugging his knees, lifted his head up.

“I think there’s a way for us to not almost freeze to death.”

“And what is it?”

Lance bit his bottom lip, “You might not like this idea.”

“Just say it already.”

“Cuddle up for warmth.”

[ganymedesclock]

Character Analysis: Coran

[ Shiro ] [ Lance ] [ Hunk ] [ Pidge ] [ Keith ] [ Allura ]

What kind of blogger would I be if I forgot about our man Coran? I’ll tell you, a bad one. Last but certainly not least in the metas on Team Voltron, it’s time for a post on everyone’s favorite redheaded spaceman-of-all-trades.

Coran is a bit of a frustrating case to overlook because for someone as open and sociable as he is, we know very little of his history- and he also happens to have a lot more history than anyone else on the team... by something of a long shot.

In an offhanded mention, Coran states that the Castle is actually 10,600 years old, because it was built by his grandfather. He later, in a different conversation, reminisces that he remembers his grandfather taking him to a Balmera... while said grandfather was building the Castle.

Thus confirming that Coran is over six hundred years old, not counting his time spent in cryostasis. And yet, at the same time- Coran doesn’t really look or act what we’d consider elderly- if anything, he’s more than a little aghast at the idea of contacting an “old people disease”- insecurity, I think, of someone in later middle ages who’s just starting to confront the idea they’re getting old.

This might well cast some aspersions on Allura’s age as well- she might be a teenager or young adult by Altean standards but we don’t know quite what those standards are.

But for Coran, he’s had certainly what our human sensibilities would consider a very long life, and has spent much of that life, seemingly, in service of the royal family. Said service is something that’s run in his own family line at least as far back as his grandfather, and Coran carries himself with the decorum of high society. He’s no mere servant- much more likely, an aristocrat himself, or possibly a member of the extended royal family considering the very personal way he relates to Alfor and Allura. His official title of Royal Advisor would suggest Alfor turned to him for counsel- but in regards to what specific topics, we aren’t sure. It’s certainly part of the role he plays to Allura.

And in practice- this is someone Alfor entrusted, seemingly alone, with the safety of his daughter and the Black Lion. As Allura was placed in stasis when the castle was still on Altea and Alfor still on the castle, this would tell us that Coran was the one to launch the castle and get it away from Zarkon’s fleet while Alfor, seemingly, held them off- it was Coran who landed the castle on Arus before entering suspension on his own.

We do not know much of Coran’s personal life- besides that seemingly, he’s been a fixture in Allura’s for a very long time, and that he was a very close friend and attendant of the late king. We see very few scenes of Alfor that do not feature Coran in some magnitude. This makes sense- because again, at the end of his life, Alfor trusted Coran with functionally the fate of the entire universe. Especially close on the heels of Zarkon’s betrayal, this tells us that Alfor trusted Coran absolutely.

Out of the spotlight

Coran virtually never takes center stage. This is the main reason he’s so much of an enigma despite being an incredibly open person and intensely prone to sharing stories at the slightest provocation. Coran is support in the purest sense- to the point that out of the team, he is the only one not paired to a unique vehicle that’s his and only his. For Allura, even the castle is uniquely connected to her power in many regards- Coran can’t use much of its higher functions. 

And we do not feel like this is an uncomfortable position for Coran in the slightest. Rather, this seems to be the area he takes to and in fact thrives in, entirely of his own choice. It’s rare for Coran to command a scene- and the few times he does tend to be very memorable, and marked by something close to fury- his indignant “You do not yell at the princess!” in s1e2 and in the season 1 finale, Coran piloting the castle alone to assail entire fleets. 

Coran is support- one who assists and facilitates- but he’s not passive in his role at all. His whole title of advisor can only possibly work if he’s someone who makes his thoughts and opinions heard, and he lives up to that. He will criticize, or even argue rather strongly with- anyone, including Allura, if pushed to it. And even without much impetus at all, he’s shown to kibitz on situations in a very honest- even unflattering manner- even on people that he cares about a lot.

Basically, Coran takes a backseat, but not remotely out of lack of confidence or devaluing himself. He’s an attendant but an incredibly outspoken one, and one with a sense of his own importance as well- reinforcing his quite possible noble background. We’ve even seen that Coran can be a touch condescending- consider his cheerful patronizing of Pidge’s “primitive synapses firing away in their little brain-cage.”

And really, Coran’s ostensibly passive position combined with his own certainty of self creates a truly terrifying combination, one that very rarely flexes itself. Simply, Coran is always the accompaniment to someone more interesting or important- King Alfor in the past, Allura and the Paladins at present. He’s set up perfectly in a blind spot, and his affable prattling makes him even more likely to overlook.

When Coran attacks Zarkon’s fleet, he states that he’s been waiting ten thousand years for this. While we can guess he’d hold a grudge against Zarkon- for Altea, for Alfor, for everything he and Allura have suffered- this is literally the first time we’ve had any implication whatsoever it was there.

Coran, quite simply, took something very close to a murderous rage, folded it neatly, and tucked it up his sleeve until he had the opportunity to take his shot.

People have pointed out the downright brutal efficiency with which Coran intercepts an attack aimed at Allura and retaliates in a way that hits all five paladins, in a single movement- and how very seriously he does his, even if it’s a simple food fight. In particular, a comment I’ve heard on that scene that’s stuck with me a long time in regards to Coran: “Imagine how many times he’s done that for something that wasn’t food.”

Coran is an advisor, but he is not remotely a noncombatant. I would not be surprised at all, in fact, if this is our window of what an archetypal Altean soldier looks and acts like- someone whose first line of defense is not necessarily a suit of armor and a sword, but by convincing you first to not think they’re an opponent. Sure, it’s funny that Coran is completely ineffective at defeating Lance and they immediately engage in some kind of trash talking- but let’s not forget unlike Allura, who was mostly baffled by Lance and only turned aggressive when he didn’t answer her questions, Coran’s first response when confronted with foreign parties was to leap to the attack and his first line of dialogue besides identifying that there were intruders in the castle boiled down to “if I hadn’t just spent an incredible amount of time unconscious in suspended animation, I would’ve put you in a chokehold and knocked you out in a matter of seconds.”

Coran, to a degree, lives in the shadows of brighter people- but he does so voluntarily and intentionally- because as soon as someone tries to make a bid for those brighter people, Coran, already overlooked, is en route to intercept.

That said, while he has that angle, he doesn’t always act on it- his role as an observer means that he’s often quite willing to just see where this situation is going. He’s not nearly as proactive as, say, Shiro- who needs to feel in control of the situation. Coran is triggered to action or inaction by his personal assessment if the situation has, or will, turn immediately dangerous- and if he doesn’t feel like it’s dangerous, or that there’s a meaningful way to engage with it, he will in fact be alarmingly blase in the face of mortal peril- the embodiment of a stiff upper lip.

Another angle of his tendency to mask intense emotions if he doesn’t feel like they have a proper use at this point.

A man of a breathtaking number of hats

So Coran is an advisor, a helmsman, and the main person we see doing maintenance on the castle- and on top of all of that, he may well be some manner of bodyguard. It’s safe to say that Coran is one hell of a busybody, and lesser people would probably have just plain dropped under the weight of his workload and the number of disparate skills this requires.

At the same time, this is probably the biggest source of Coran’s goofy space dad vibe- he has so much varied life experience and skill sets that practically anything for Coran is fair game. History and nostalgia are very big things for him, and, overwhelmingly, what we learn about Coran and from Coran is anecdotal and sentimental in nature. Certainly, he’s quite smart, and likes to explain things, but how much he knows, and quite possibly to a degree just his personality itself, makes him spacey and a bit of a scatterbrain. 

“Finger counting is more of an art than a science”- or, rather, sophisticated mental math (he was trying to crunch how long it would take a spaceship to reach them considering its speed, that is not elementary level addition) is very difficult if your brain goes in a lot of directions and you have a lot of places to lose stray decimals in.

Coran relates much more easily to things intuitively and emotionally than he does trying to attend to precise variables- though that gap is not as large as one would expect because he’s had a lot of time to practice. In general, Coran’s skill set is much more rounded and stable than any of the rest of the team’s- a testament, again, to how much time he’s had to pick things up. Regardless, he does show a pretty good aptitude for working with people, when not held back by heavily outdated information as he was in Space Mall.

When he is, though, he may be slow to admit his initial judgment call was wrong- as mentioned, Coran is rather prideful. He’s quite certain of himself and other people need to impress him- and even in season 2, he has no problems verbally tearing the paladins to shreds if he doesn’t think they’re living up to expectations. Cheerfully.

High energy

You’d think someone past his six hundredth birthday would slow down a little, even if that might be the Altean equivalent of late fifties. You would think wrong in Coran’s case. Probably why this guy has so many odd jobs, aptitudes, and experiences is that he can be almost restless in his energy levels. “Restless” is not how he comes across- but mostly because, as a mature character who’s had a lot of his development already, Coran knows himself and his inclinations. 

As a result, he will often seem quiet- but if you’re paying attention, Coran is virtually always doing something, and usually multitasking as he does. While this could well be a stress-inducing byproduct of being effectively the sole staff of a castle probably designed for a lot more people than that, I think to a degree, Coran is simply someone who does not keep idle very easily at all. When his workload is lightened or alleviated, he’s more inclined to engage in whimsy and curiosity instead.

Another product of this is Coran does very little in half measures, if he’s committed to it.

Theatrics and their absence

Coran certainly has some very dramatic reactions, but it’s almost more noteworthy when he doesn’t. I’ve mentioned that Coran has a major case of stiff upper lip in the face of sometimes even mortal peril- but that’s basically it. Coran’s spectrum of emotional expression oscillates from “politely interested or indifferent” to the melodramatic screaming he put on in s1e2.

In general, Coran’s more mellow expressions of emotion tend to be positive. Frustration is a quick way to get him to more dramatic expressions, and even that varies. It isn’t even a simple game of how intensely Coran feels something, either- some of his most scathing lines are delivered quietly. If anything, it would seem that Coran is more expressive and ebullient in times of levity- if the situation feels serious, then even shouting, there’s a composed sternness to him.

He can also flip between the two multiple times within the course of a single scene and practically at the drop of a hat. In this sense, it would suggest that Coran never really has wild or uncontrolled emotions- simply, he can, and tends to be, fairly lenient in their expression.

This seems to be the product of a lot of work throughout Coran’s life by our glimpses of his younger selves. From a very moody teenage Coran who claims he can only express himself through music to his wildly over-dramatic ebullient young adult self- Coran has pretty much always had a lot of feelings, and it’s only as he’s gotten older that he’s mellowed to a degree and successfully established a certain layer of calm that can exist either over or under them.

And it’s very notable that just because Coran emotes a lot doesn’t mean he’s incapable of duplicity. Because Coran is carrying some emotional giants, and they’re simply things that you do not see at all unless something prompts him to mention them.

His quiet mention that he can’t lose Allura is basically the only admission he has made, at all in the seasons, that much like Allura herself, Coran is nearly alone in the universe- one of a trace handful of surviving Alteans. And after that, his comment that he’s been waiting for a shot at Zarkon acknowledges that possibly even more than Allura, Coran has a driving grudge- one that he buries just as quickly as he acknowledges it to tell Keith to step back and preserve himself rather than engage Zarkon.

Supportive

I’ve mentioned that Coran tends to be a part of someone else’s backdrop, but I think it’s worth noticing- especially as he can be sometimes condescending or flippant with the team- that there is a very affectionate and warm side of Coran. While he is unflinchingly observant of formal titles, it’s also very clear his relationship with Alfor and Allura has been deeply personal and rather familial- and this is much of how he takes to the paladins. Coran is never really so formal with people as to really feel stiff- his proper courtly manners juxtapose with a very flippant and sincere attitude.

A lot of people joke about Shiro being team dad, but honestly- I stand by, Shiro is the perfectionist oldest child that everyone jokes acts like another parent. Coran, though- even when the objective goal was to drive the paladins as hard as possible and make them unite against a single goal, Coran was still giving them breaks and telling them not to push it too hard. (And his praise of Allura’s methods after the fact is incredibly backhanded, almost certainly on purpose)

In Summary

Coran is a person very motivated by memories and sentimentality, but also, for all of his bouncy high-energy persona, there is a really impressive amount of emotional control under his surface, to the point that he can easily hide very powerful sentiments indeed.

Multi-talented and very inclined to working behind the scenes to support others, but also somewhat haughty, and both genuinely deeply fond of the rest of his team and utterly unafraid to take them all down a peg if he feels that’s appropriate. 

[pumpkins-s]

With Faith

Read On AO3 Here

In the wake of the Balmera's liberation from the rule of the Galra Empire, Shay finds herself rather stuck on two things— The question of what role she is meant to play in the bigger picture in the fight against Zarkon, and exactly what it is Hunk means to her.

(Or, five times Hunk makes, and fulfills, a promise to return to Shay's Balmera over the course of the war, and one time he doesn't need to.)

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Relationships: Hunk/Shay, platonic Shay & Rax

Characters: Shay, Hunk, Rax, Shay’s family

Written (late) for @d0g-bless for the VLD Rarepair Exchange on Twitter.

1.

It’s hard to accept, when it’s all over.

Not so much in a way as if Shay doesn’t want to accept it, but in the fact that it in many ways almost feels not real, an impossible pipe dream whispered among mutinous children as a bedtime story before their spirits are broken in the name of survival. A future that seemed so outrageous and ridiculous that it ceased to be even a fantasy. Too hard to even conceptualize, let alone imagine.

Freedom.

The ability to go wherever you want and do whatever you want— Within reason, of course, but the whole point being that there are no longer masters to control you, to dictate when you eat, when you sleep, when you die.

It is something Shay knows nothing of, born into a world ruled by the Galra, as her mother before her was, and her mother before her. Something that fell to ash in the minds and hearts of the Balmera’s young over centuries, just the same as did the recounted histories of Voltron, and the one of their own kind who flew one of its lions, fade only to fable.

A child’s tale— The child’s tale, both Voltron and its promised liberation.

And yet, it is the right of every creature in this universe, this freedom, supposedly.

At least, it is so, according to him. Hunk.

(The human who comes back and keeps coming back. Who promises things he should not be able to promise and follows through.)

The paladin of Voltron, the freedom fighter.

She does not know what to make of him, at first, in more ways than one. Her entire life has been the divisions of us, and them. Balmerans and Galra, the story of the conquered and their conquerors, as it was, as it has always been. He is unexplainable, the being that is neither like her, nor like them, and that falls from the sky on a rush of smoke and hopeful requests.

And she helps him, despite the crawling fears of the Balmera’s memories running on centuries of suffering and her brother’s words of angered terror digging under her skin like a vice. For the first time in her life she stares down at something that is neither family nor foe, something new and good and unafraid, and she wants to be a part of it. Even when the Galra take her, even when Hunk swears to come back and she weighs up the overwhelmingly likely realities that stand against that well-meant promise, she doesn’t care, because for one small moment, she has been a piece of something bigger. She has helped someone who could in turn help others, others like her and her family, and it is worth it, to know her life has ended up meaning something more than just another nameless worker in a Galra computer system and the whispered hopes of the cobbled-together remnants of family.

And despite everything, Hunk comes back anyways, and suddenly her life does not look short after all.

He comes back, with his team of the others like him and the Alteans, yet more remnants of those long-abandoned tales, and Shay’s planet gets a second chance to begin again, as does she.

Once the fight for the Balmera is finally over, after Shay watches the first unfiltered, unmarred sunrise of her life, her new life, Hunk leaves again— Too soon, far too soon. It’s not easy, to watch him go. Not when he has helped her to gain everything, all the things she barely dreamed of and more, and she still feels as if she barely knows anything about him, beyond the fact that he is kind of soul and good of heart.

But he is needed elsewhere, to help others, and her place is here, with her family as they rebuild their home from the rubble of the Galra’s defeat. Hunk is strange, and he is fascinating, but they both have very different obligations to attend to that dictate separate paths. That is just how it is.

She doesn’t expect any promises this time. He has done his duty as a paladin, more than repaid any imagined debt he might have incurred from her assistance retrieving a crystal the first time he came to the Balmera, and there is no prudent reason why he should need or want to return.

And yet he does, pressing a communicator into her hand that he explains, almost with disappointment in his voice, is built only for emergency signals, not messaging or video feeds, mumbling casually about finding a way to build a proper communication system that might work with the remnants of Galra technology on her planet, or run on its own. He wants to keep speaking to her, even if he leaves, and he wants that small excuse to come back, Shay realizes with something like relief as she accepts the offered gift, a mark of protection and another promise unto itself, and nods her head and offers to look for spare parts like he described among the half-ruined, abandoned Galran stations littering her planet.

Hunk grins and shuffles his feet and ducks his head, and Shay lets herself fully believe this promise, this time.

2.

The second time Hunk comes back is not long after that at all— Long enough for Shay’s people to start to come to grips with their newfound freedom, as best they can anyways, and begin working to figure out what life on the Balmera without Galra control means for them, but not so long that Shay has broken the habit of looking to the sky every time she hears a new noise on the wind. Hoping against hope it might be the castle or Hunk’s lion, despite knowing there is no rational reason for them to be here of all places.

Her brother picks up a habit of scoffing every time she does so, loudly and pointedly enough that she knows he is doing it on purpose, though it doesn’t faze Shay much. He still helped the paladins in the end, after all, even if it was likely largely because she was with them, and she doubts at this point he has any regrets about that change of heart.

He’ll never admit it aloud, but it’s spoken in the quiet, deferential complacency he offers in the face of her suggestions for their family, for their people. In the way he looks to the sky as well even after his noises of complaint have been voiced, watching the horizon for metallic glimmers of yellow or white.

She was right, after all, about the paladins, and he is sorry for having doubted her.

(And she accepts it, of course, because he is her little brother, and she knows he only did what he did, right or wrong, to try and protect her.)

When Hunk returns, she hears the deep whistle of the lion’s engines long before she sees it, the sound startling and distinct against the now serene stillness of the Balmera’s surface, devoid of the roar of Galra ships and machinery once more. Rax grumbles and glares at the slowly growing form of the yellow lion as it appears in the sky, but he takes the Galra machinery scraps she is carrying without comment, mumbling about handling her chores for the afternoon, and she gives him a small, grateful smile that he studiously ignores, before going to wait for Hunk to land.

Hunk grins, wide and genuine, when the yellow lion’s mouth opens after it lands, and he spots her standing on the ground in front of him. He calls her name in a way no one else has spoken it before—bright and unassuming and still ever so slightly unsure, because he is the first person she has trusted in her life outside of family and he knows that—and she pretends it does not make her feel as inexplicably happy as she does to hear it.

It is so different, the way he says her name, when she is still so used to only hearing it from the mouths of her fellow Balmerans primarily as an act of rebellion against the numbers the Galra assigned to them, and as a reassurance of her existence as an individual, but it is not bad. It might even be good.

“You’re back sooner than I thought you might be.” She says to him softly once he is departed from his lion, the quiet elation of you came back, you came back clashing with the breathless worry that others are out there suffering, right now, because Hunk is here to see her, someone inconsequential in the larger story, rather than helping them.

“Allura is still recovering from healing the Balmera—and before you ask, she’s fine, she’s just tired—so we’re not doing too much Zarkon-fighting right now.” Hunk tells her, shrugging. “Long story short, there was an incident involving a giant pile of stew, chess, a princess turned into a dragon, and a guy Coran owed a debt to that had ten thousand years interest on it, and everyone agreed afterward we needed a couple days off.”

Shay blinks, putting aside her questions of that tale for later, because she doubts she will ever fully understand the lives of the paladins, so outrageous and wild compared to her own, and instead focuses on the warm feeling she has at Hunk’s final words. “And so you chose to come here?”

“Well, yeah.” He pulls her up the ramp into his lion’s mouth excitedly, leaving burning trails in his light touch on her wrist, ready to let go at a second’s discomfort on her part, and gestures to crates stacked neatly within the great beast’s maw. “I think I found the stuff around the castle to build a proper communications hub! Then we can talk whenever we want!” There’s a moment of silence as Shay absorbs the fact that he really meant it, he really wants to stay in contact with her, and then Hunk’s feather-light grasp on her wrist is gone, hand rubbing at the back of his neck and looking sheepish. “I mean— Unless you don’t want to— Sorry, I just kind of assumed…”

“Hunk.” She says firmly, cutting him off, because while she may still be learning Hunk, she knows he is enthusiastic in the face of new people to befriend, but painfully hesitant when convinced he has overstepped his bounds. Luckily for the both of them, she is the type of person who does not waver when she is confident in what she wants, and she knows just enough to be sure, here. “I would very much like to be able to talk to you on a regular basis, and am most honored you chose to use your time off to come visit me.”

Hunk smiles, crooked and bright, and Shay firmly tells her fluttering heart now is not the time.

“…Okay then.”

Later, much later, once the twin suns of the Balmera have begun to set once more and her people have returned to their homes to rest, Hunk leaves again, communication hub constructed and lion whirring in the sky, stirring up stray pebbles with its jets as it departs.

“I’ll come back again soon.” He tells her before he leaves, and Shay ignores the grumbles of Rax, quick to find her again once it gets dark, behind her shoulder as they both watch Hunk go.

“And I suppose you will wait for that one.” Rax mumbles with half-hearted, unmeant disdain, and Shay smiles patiently at her brother.

“Yes. But is it really waiting, if I’m meant to be here anyways?” She asks, and tries not to be too pleased when Rax’s jaw clicks shut, a silent concession to her words.

Shay closes her eyes and breaths in, savoring the fresh air on the Balmera’s surface. She will wait, because she has faith Hunk will return, but she will not be idle. The Balmera needs her, as it always has, and that, too, is good.

3.

After that, conversing with Hunk on the small, glitchy screens he constructed for them becomes a regular occurrence— One Shay, and her family, when she invites them to partake in the conversation, looks forward to every time. It is… nice, to have someone to chat with outside of the world of the Balmera, where they are free at last but still so isolated while they figure out what role they want to play in the universe again. And of all people, she is glad it is Hunk she gets to see on the other side of that screen, for she does not think she would have anyone else, even if there were more options outside of the limited number of non-Balmerans she knows in any vague sense of the word.

She gets used to waiting for his calls, as best on a schedule as he can manage but often still all over the place thanks to his duties as a paladin, rather than the hum of Yellow’s engines. There is a sense of ease in knowing she will no longer have little clue as to Hunk’s next return, now that they have established a way of sustained communication, and she enjoys the chance to learn Hunk better outside of what she knows and what she infers, which still feels like not even half enough as she ought to.

Hunk tells her the exciting, and occasionally more than mildly terrifying, stories of his adventures with the other paladins like clockwork, making a point to emphasis the interesting parts and downplay the scary pieces to give her the best, least worrying picture he can, and she gets used to subtly pressing for details in a way that encourages him to share his true feelings on the matter, even if they are fear or nervousness, if he is so willing. Shay takes it as a compliment when, over time, he begins to share more and more of his worries with her rather than just his joys. It is a mark of trust, to share such thoughts with her, and she keeps it close in her thoughts and dear in her heart throughout every tale Hunk recounts, every time he falters and she does her best to offer encouragement and advice.

She doubts that she is very useful, really, with giving any helpful commentary on the complexities of Hunk’s situation, when she is so far removed from his world, but he seems to appreciate it nonetheless, and it is nice to feel… important, valued. It’s a form of reassurance that every sleepless night of work on the Balmera and every long thought she gives to the course of Voltron in their universe has a purpose.

In return, she tells him of the Balmera. Of the continued growth of crystals both on the surface and below the ground as her home continues to heal, and of the work of her people in reconstructing their lives— Their struggles and discussions on what to do with the remains of the Galra bases, what to scavenge and recycle, what to leave, what to destroy as best they can.

It’s complicated, she explains to Hunk when he asks about potential plans to reuse Galra technology. There’s a sentiment in some places, particularly amongst the younger and angrier, like her brother, that everything Galra should be burned to the ground until there is nothing but ash, no traces of the Galra stain on their planet left. Others feel it’s worth taking as much as they can from the half-destroyed Galra bases, and making it into their own, for after centuries of being denied access to these technologies and the chance to choose to use them or not, surely they have earned this much.

Most just hover somewhere in the middle, discontented at the idea of Galra military equipment and bases remaining on their planet, but aware there are probably useful materials left over for them to salvage as they try to adjust collectively to a life of choices, a life where they may look to contact travelers and make allies, just as they did with Voltron.

Shay finds herself the very definition of unsure and conflicted, wavering between the precipices of destruction and rebirth, and she admits as much when Hunk asks. There is nothing she hates in her heart so much as the Empire and what it has done to both her people and countless others, and she understands the desire to wipe away any trace of them from her home. But… On the other end of things, the Galra, for all their cruelty and disgusting disregard for other forms of life, live in the heights of technological and mechanical splendor, and there is wealth of abandoned remnants left over to be repurposed or sold to travelers, if so chosen. For Shay and her people, who have been left with very little outside of their slowly re-healing planet after centuries of its creeping death, and their own faith and trust in one another, the benefits of reclaiming the former blights on their planet, and turning them into their own, may outweigh the costs.

There is a war to fight, after all. And while Shay knows her place is here, she wants to continue to be a part of the bigger picture as long as she is capable of doing so, of contributing something useful, and she knows many of her people feel the same in the face of Voltron’s triumph.

But they cannot do that as effectively as possible if they are cut off from the universe, unable to communicate or travel, and for that they must, reluctantly, for now look to the remains of the Galra technology on their planet.

Perhaps, in another life, they could find a way around it, could trust in Voltron to put them in contact with allies who could help supply them with ships and communication devices. Could wait for their own people to work and invent their own ways of doing these things, perhaps utilizing the power of their Balmera.

That is not, however, the life they are living. Right now, time is of the essence. They do not have months and years to perfect themselves and choose the most straight and narrow path. Not if they want to be a part of the fight against Zarkon.

…And they do. That, at least, is something they can all agree on.

After a while, Hunk’s calls fall to stuttering periods of silence, eventually petering out altogether, leaving Shay wondering and undeniably forlorn, and her brother angry as always on her behalf. She gets about as far as cycling between worrying that Hunk’s paladin duties have suddenly gotten infinitely more complicated, or that he may not want to speak to her anymore, before the Castle of Lions shows up on the Balmera’s doorstep, sans Hunk or any of the other paladins, and asks for a crystal of enormous proportions.

(The former of Shay’s assessments about the situation, then, she guesses. The paladins have somehow found themselves yet even bigger battles to fight, even this quickly into this messy, spiraling thing they call the long-awaited war against Zarkon.)

When the beast the Balmera had trapped within its confines breaks free, in the aftermath of retrieving Allura’s requested crystal, Shay is not afraid. She is frustrated that she cannot do more to help, forced to take shelter within the Balmera’s caves that once imprisoned her from the sun, pacing and brushing up against the walls and feeling so useless, and worried for the princess on the surface, but she is not afraid.

She trusts in Hunk, to come when Allura calls him to help Shay and her people once more. She trusts him to come back.

And he does.

Victorious and trembling and everything, as Voltron tears apart the Galra’s largest curse on the Balmera, he does.

The paladins demonstrate themselves to still be in quite the hurry afterwards, disbanding Voltron and preparing to depart yet again almost instantaneously once the robeast is defeated, but they still allow Hunk a moment, and Shay shivers with quietly suppressed relief and joy when Hunk’s face brightens the moment he emerges from his lion and sees her exiting the caves, his own demeanor softening in a reflection of how she feels herself at the sight of him. He sweeps her up in a hug without hesitation as soon as he’s close enough, tucking his chin against her neck, and she reciprocates slowly, but gladly.

“I’m so glad you’re alright.” He says lowly, voice quivering with so many unspoken things. “I was so scared.”

“I wasn’t.” She tells him, easy and gentle and all the things she knows he needs to hear right now. “I knew you’d come back in time. You always do.”

He steps back, unthinkingly clasping her hands and twining their fingers together in front of them in what must be a human gesture of significance. It is lost on her, but it is not an unpleasant feeling, and she squeezes his hands gently, noting the pleased flush that scrawls across his face. “We’re going to defeat Zarkon. We have a plan, we’re going to end this properly, once and for all.”

Shay’s skin itches at the thought, an idea even more impossible than freedom had been, but the Balmera help her if she doesn’t want it, a chance for it all to stop, for everyone to begin once more. “I believe you. If anyone can do it, it is you and your team.”

Hunk lights up, grin scrawling back across his face even as his teammates call for him, and he squeezes her hand back slowly, a silent goodbye. “I’ll be around with the good news before you know it. Promise. It’s really happening, Shay.”

4.

It does.

And yet, it doesn’t.

Taking down the Empire is more complicated than just taking out Zarkon and hoping everything will simply disintegrate from there, and there is a cost for everything in battles such as these.

An Emperor traded out for a prince, a consequential but not all-destroying blow made to the Empire, paid in the price of one black paladin.

Shay doesn’t hear of it when it happens, her last contact with Hunk a short transmission from him the evening before the mission to take down Zarkon, and then radio silence. It’s expected, at first, victory or no victory, because she has no doubt that a fight with Zarkon and its aftermath will be long and arduous, especially if there are injuries to heal or Galra generals to deal with afterwards, but when the hours run into days without so much as a single word, the fear, deep and clawing underneath her skin, begins to set in.

What if they lost?

What if they died out there, crushed under the weight of Zarkon’s might, and Shay didn’t even know, a million miles away on a planet cut off from the universe?

Her family tries to distract her, asking her for help with work and avoiding the nagging terror in the backs of all their minds as they talk, and her brother mutters under his breath about how if Hunk died out there, Rax is going to kill him on Shay’s behalf for worrying her.

(Shay decides pointing out the circularity of that logic is a rather useless endeavor. The sentiment is clear, and appreciated, if nothing else.)

The even greater worry, that if Voltron was defeated the Galra may come for them again, remains unspoken. Their people were enslaved against their will once already. They will not go down so easily a second time without a fight.

Still, when the rumble of Yellow’s engine descending to the Balmera is finally heard, after long days of waiting for something, anything, Rax takes Shay’s basket from her without a word, nodding to her, and she runs, chasing the gaps between the crystals and rock formations on the Balmera’s surface to where she sees the yellow lion land. She skids to a halt before the beast’s maw just as it begins to open, and then Hunk is down the ramp with the kind of speed she remembers from the fight for her planet, half flying and half falling to meet her in the middle with ungainly, but desperately relieved, movements. He collapses against her chest, shoulders shuddering and breath trembling, the glimpses of his face she catches grief-stricken and blotchy, and she flounders, looking to offer comfort but not knowing quite how.

“We lost Shiro.” Hunk says, and the world rewrites itself.

Later, after she coaxes him away from his lion to sit in her family’s new home, precariously constructed out of a rock protrusion on the Balmera’s surface that it had gladly shaped as necessary for them, and plied him with some of her grandmother’s stew, because food is warm and safe and a known comfort she can provide to Hunk, he explains.

“We don’t— He’s not dead. We just…” He sighs. “He disappeared after the fight from the black lion, we have no idea what happened to him. We’ve searched everywhere around the battle site but… nothing.”

“...I am sorry, Hunk.”

“No one’s really handling it well.” Hunk admits with a shaky laugh, voice croaky and soft. “Keith’s… a mess, Pidge won’t talk at all, Allura just keeps shoving everything down to keep things afloat and it’s… It’s bad. I needed to get away, just for a little bit. I felt like I couldn’t breathe in the castle one second longer, with all that weighing on us every moment and every hour.”

And so you came here, of all places, Shay’s heart whispers, and she tells it to be silent. This is not about her.

“…And Zarkon? Shay says, because maybe it’s callous to think about, with a paladin, Hunk’s friend, someone who helped defend her own planet, gone so suddenly, but she needs to know.

“Not dead.” Hunk admits, and she closes her eyes. “Physically, at least. But whatever happened to him at the end of that fight… The Empire’s called in his son, apparently, and Zarkon’s been locked away somewhere, probably plugged up with tubes just to keep him breathing. It’s done, Shay. The Empire may not be gone, but Zarkon himself will never order another innocent world torn apart again.”

Shay gasps out, suddenly feeling as if she can breathe again, and her hand finds his uncertainly where he sits next to her, mimicking his earlier gesture from his last visit and pressing their palms together, feeling the reassuring thrum of his pulse against her skin. “Thank you.”

Hunk chuckles morosely. “Don’t thank me yet. We can’t form Voltron anymore, and the Galra are less than defeated. That battle may have been our last big blow to the Empire for a long while.”

She deflates, nodding her head and leaning her shoulder against his. “And you have a teammate whom you are desperately worried for missing.” Hunk twitches, the barest of unwanted acknowledgements at her statement, and she sighs, wishing that just for once life would be easy, yet unwilling to turn her back in the face of a chance to continue to matter in this fight. “How can I help?”

“Just… Just talk, if you can. Please.” Hunk says, quiet and unsure, and so, so embroiled in the whispers of fear just underneath that steel armor. “I need to not think about anything involving Voltron, or Shiro, or the Galra, or… any of it, for a while.”

So she does. She tells him of the Balmera, of the trembling hum of its song beneath its surface that every one of her people can hear, that they have known all their lives, reverberating through their bones and deep within their hearts. She tells him of the stories her ancestors passed down and down, all the way to her grandmother and her parents and then her, about Voltron, about freedom, about hope. Of the dances they used to hold in larger crevices amongst the tunnels, where the sentries could not find them, and they could be a people with choices all their own even for a short while. Of her childhood, spent with Rax playing amongst the mazes of tunnels down where daylight does not even hope to fall, yet warmth can still be found in the Balmera’s loving glow.

She tells him of it all, until his weight drifts against her side and his head lulls in sleep. When her family comes home, she shushes them gently, gesturing to Hunk next to her, and Rax, despite his glaring, helps her shift Hunk’s sleeping form into a more comfortable position to rest for the night.

The next morning, Hunk leaves again, as always.

“Thank you.” He tells her quietly as his lion waits, and she shrugs, looking to his hands where they hold his helmet and wondering what it would be like to have them intertwined with her own once more. She has gotten far too used to the strange human sensation after only two occasions, wanting to experience it again and again whenever she so pleases.

“Just be careful, stay alive.” She says. “That is all I would ask of you.”

Hunk’s mouth quirks slightly, and he nods. “That’s fair.” There’s a pause, and then he sighs, leaning forward and resting his forehead against her shoulder, a grounding weight without being pressing. “I don’t know what’s going to happen next. I may not be able to come back for a… a long while.”

“I know.”

“But I will come back.” He straightens up, looking into her eyes, one part soldier, one part child, young and vulnerable. “So long as you want me to, I will come back.”

Shay smiles, soft and fond, and touches his wrist where it rests against his helmet in the closest substitute she will allow herself to holding his hand, chasing the tail of his pulse, quick and steady and reliably there. “I know that too.”

And just like that, he is gone.

Rax groans, tired and complaining, when she comes back to their home, and sits her down to get her something warm to drink. “Why did you have to go and fall in love with a paladin of Voltron, of all things?”

Shay blinks, staring down at her cup where it is clasped between her hands, forcing the shaking out of them by demand of keeping it steady. “Is that what you’d call it?” She asks, and Rax snorts, giving her answer enough with that alone.

Hunk’s calls come and go in consistency following that, and though he does not return to the Balmera, he does check in at least every few days with dedication, even if it’s just for a few moments at the tail end of many days of battle. Perhaps he realizes how frightened she’d been for him during the silence after the confrontation with Zarkon, perhaps not, but either way she never has to wait too long for some kind of signal of his wellbeing anymore. The war rages on far away from her Balmera’s surface, and she gets used to counting the passage of the suns as the mark of time rather than marks on cave walls, and thinks back to the stories of old about the original war of Voltron, and how it waged for many years.

Sometimes she wonders if this one will be much the same. She hopes not.

Eventually, after what feels like far too many rotations of the suns, Shay gets a call she thinks everyone on the Balmera, once the news had spread, was waiting for, and one that Hunk, honestly, had probably been waiting for a long time to make with stubborn hope in his veins.

“I— We found Shiro. We did it. Shay, we found him.”

5.

After that, the tide of the war turns in Voltron’s favor once more, even as it grows to the strength and desperation of a hurricane on its last great gust of wind and rain before the fall.

With Voltron returned to its former glory, and Zarkon still vanished from the public eye, the peoples of the many planets he had ruled over begin to stir, clamoring at the sense of change. Lotor may be intelligent, he may be manipulative and strategic in battle, and Hunk has told Shay as much, but he is not his father. He is not the oppressor who has held the universe in his grip for ten thousand years through a monarchy of blood and terror.

To many who hated and feared, but cowered and obeyed, Zarkon was God. But Lotor is just a man— An intelligent and conniving man, but simply a man nonetheless.

If Zarkon, destroyer of Altea and conqueror of star systems, the creature that their legends say watched his own planet burn without remorse, can fall, then so too can is his son, no matter how cruel or clever he may prove himself to be.

And so Shay finds herself not as an observer of a small push back against the Empire, but as part of a quickly growing revolution.

Shay and her people fall into their role in the fighting, as part of the bigger picture, just fine in the end. Rebel forces crawl out of the woodwork and the far corners of the universe where they had hid from Zarkon time and time again, overwhelmed in the face of his power even with every minor victory and rescued prisoner, and as they pledge themselves to Voltron, amassing an army of ragtag ships and crews, the Balmera finds its place.

Every armada needs a supply ship, after all, and what better place than the first planet freed by Voltron, a hallmark of what this fight stands for, that is packed to the brim with energy crystals and a veritable well of ship engines and spare parts to be salvaged from the old Galra bases?  

They become the rebellion’s center point for power and repair provisions, helping fighters scavenge what they needs from their amassed piles of abandoned Galra machines and tech, and sharing their Balmera’s crystals to those that need them their way, the right way— A continuous cycle of take and return, in harmony, as it always was and should have been, before the Galra.

Shay’s brother runs off to join a crew of rebels, wanting to be a part of bringing the fight directly to Lotor, her parents assist in the work on their planet, and Shay finds herself as the emissary of her people, the members of the revolution somehow finding some authority in the scared child who had hoped for a moment to do something meaningful in her life, and had been the first to help the paladins of Voltron when no one else would.

No one ever questions her place as something like the director of rebel operations on the Balmera, the voice of her people, and so she tries not to either. She is young, but she is not any more so than the paladins, after all, and not so young that she cannot choose to fight.

She had made that choice the minute she helped Hunk for the first time, she just hadn’t realized it fully at the time.

With the way the fight against the Empire grows in volume and scale, taking up even more time and energy to conduct, Hunk does not find time to visit for long periods, outside of when the castle itself needs something from the Balmera— Which is, admittedly, rarer than Shay might wish in the deeper, more selfish parts of her heart. His absence is understandable, though, because this is war, and the two of them both have incredibly demanding, different duties to attend to.

As such, on every occasion when Hunk finds the time to call, Shay bites her tongue, and forces herself not to ask when he might next be around.

She trusts he will come back, and to ask for more than that in such a war as this is self-centered.

Over time, things begin to slow, the spaces between large battles that force temporary retreats, and send injured rebels rushing for the Castle of Lions or allied planets supplied with medical centers, growing longer. The end of the long fight to destroy the Empire tastes real and near properly for the first time, and Shay allows herself to hope for more, yet one more time.

Hunk calls on one of the slow days, obvious to Shay in the easy, carefree movements of the rebels docked at the Balmera as they repair their ships and in the silence on the communication hubs tuned into the Voltron-aligned frequencies. “Things are quieting down.” He tells her, shifting sheepishly on the small screen in the way she’s come to recognize he does when he wants something but won’t speak it aloud. “Lotor’s apparently figuring out that he’s fighting a losing battle by now. Allura’s given us a day to just… catch our breath.”

Shay’s mouth quirks, wondering if it would be cruel to sit and make him say it, before deciding against it. She is not so calm and collected herself, either. “Well, if you have time, the screen on the communication device you built me has been acting up for a while now. Perhaps you could come and take a look at it.”

Hunk brightens up instantly, shoulders sagging in relief. “Yeah! Yeah— I mean… Yeah, I can do that. We’re not that far out from you, actually. Give me a couple hours and I’ll be... Yeah.”

Neither of them bother to point out that there are a dozen other similar communication hubs Shay could use if she wanted a better screen. That is not part of the nature of excuses, after all.

“Alright.” She tells him, and when he smiles, wide and bright, her world feels resettled once more.

It’s almost lonely to wait for Hunk’s arrival without Rax there to scoff over her shoulder and complain about the paladin’s many perceived shortcomings in her brother’s mind. She has still not gotten used to the silence of him being gone, and the worry of what might happen to both him and Hunk is a constantly pressing weight on her mind.

Sometimes, she wishes she had chosen to go with him, where she could keep an eye on her paranoid, grumbly little brother until the end of the days.

Most of the time, though, she is content with her choices. She is needed here, and she finds great value in being so needed.

When the rumble of Yellow’s thrusters reaches her ears, she looks up, chasing the glimmers of chrome and paint against the orange-lit sky. The sounds of its arrival deafens out any leftover noises of her planet’s operations, until there is only it, only this, the Balmera’s echo in her bones and the hum of the yellow lion’s engines wrapping around her like a second skin.

Hunk steps out, and then he is there, arms wrapped around her middle and chin tucked against her shoulder and the rapid thump of his strange human heart clear and distinct against her chest. She laughs, burying her face in his hair and savoring the warmth his body emits that is so different from her own, yet still undeniably pleasant. “Hello, Hunk.”

“…Hi Shay.”

“It is nice to see you.” She murmurs, and she feels Hunk’s smile curve against the edge of her neck.

“It’s nice to see you too.”

+1

When the call goes out that Lotor has surrendered, heard crackling over the stations in the Balmera in a wave followed by cheering screams and sobbing collapses of well-won relief, Shay closes her eyes, and thanks whatever out there that might be listening that this is over at last.

There was an inevitability to the whole thing, really. An expectation of victory slowly crawling through the thoughts and hearts of rebels and freed peoples alike as the war clearly drew to a close, but it is still rocking to hear it. On some level, Shay thinks, they all of them had half-expected to go to sleep one night and wake up to find themselves back where they all started, in caves buried under mountains of rock or locked away in dank Galra prison cells, as their lives had taught them to expect. She certainly knows it was like that for her for a long time, at least. It still is, on some days when it all feels not quite real, as if she asked for too much and it will all come crumbling down back on her.

But it is real. She, the Balmeran child that was born meant to be just another number, had played her part in the war, and done it well, and now it is over.

They are free, all of them, once and for all.

Rax comes home first, barely a couple days after the news of Lotor’s surrender arrives, his crew docking up to drop off their Balmeran members and those that need to catch a ride on another ship back to their planet of choice. Shay races to the landing area in question once she sees the ship identification number come in on the scanners she helps monitor, heartbeat matching with every footfall as she desperately makes her way there. She sweeps him up in a crushing hug the minute she sees him, uncaring of the fact that he’s grown even bigger and taller than her yet again in his time away, because at the end of the day he is still Shay’s baby brother, albeit not by much, and she is still stronger than him when she wants to be.

“Hello little brother.” She says to him, squeezing tighter even as he squirms and makes short, annoyed noises, and eventually he relents and sighs, slumping into her hold and hugging her back.

“…Hello big sister.”

Hunk shows up much later, after most of the rebels who would have reason to return to the Balmera for one purpose or another do so, but that is hardly unexpected. Voltron was the center of this battle, after all. The pinnacle of hope and morality they all looked to, still look to. Allura would want her paladins, her faithful compatriots there for her from the beginning of this fight, with her as she set about negotiating the exact terms of Lotor’s surrender, what to do with the thousands of Galra soldiers and civilians that have lived under the Empire’s rule just as much as any of the rest of them for years upon years.

The war may be won, but the work is far from over, and Shay knows this as she sets aside her silent communication hub with its well-repaired screen from Hunk’s last visit, and focuses on the tasks at hand. Hunk will be back when what he is needed for is done, this she trusts in, and so for now she must focus on what duties she herself is required for. There will be time for quiet celebrations and talks with the one person who unwittingly brought her into this fight, and in doing so saved her life, when things are settled.

Eventually, after weeks of quiet, Shay gets a single alert of an incoming craft unlike any other coming and going yet still from her planet— A lion of Voltron.

Rax walks with her to where she knows Hunk and his lion will land, leaning his elbows on her shoulders and nearly sending her tipping over before they right themselves, both of them still equally adjusting to his last growth spurt. They watch the sky in quiet, Rax looking generally unimpressed but managing to stave off his complaints for the moment, more than aware how much this, how much Hunk, means to Shay. He may not necessarily agree with it—or he may and just not want to admit it, after his attitude towards Hunk on their first meeting—but she is his sister, and he loves her, so he holds his tongue, at least for a little while.

When the roar of the engines becomes hearable, and the first glimmers of the yellow lion can be spotted on the horizon, Rax makes a complaining, grumbling noise, just once. “He could have at least called ahead.”

Shay smiles, tipping her head back to lean against her brother’s shoulder even as he slumps more of his weight over her like an overly protective yupper, the balance of things finally somewhat figured out. “I think he wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Which is stupid, surely he knew we’d notice his arrival and—“

“Just let me have this, Rax.”

“…Fine.”

Her brother leaves just before the yellow lion lands, casting one last half-hearted glare Shay know holds no real animosity at it and then wandering off, muttering something under his breath about having better things to do than third-wheel or chaperone them. She watches him disappear into one of the Balmera’s many tunnels with a small smile, and then turns back, heart in her throat, just as Hunk steps off his lion, drinking in the picture of him. She has seen him on the screens of the Balmera’s communication hubs, heard his voice over the rebel call stations, but it is still nothing quite like him being there in person. It has been too long. Then again, it always feels too long, when it comes to Hunk and his absence.

He’s changed, even taller and bigger than before, his hair longer and now pulled back completely by the tatty orange ribbon he always had, but underneath he still has the same wide eyes and hopeful expression of the newly recruited soldier who crashed onto her planet before all this even began.

She wonders if she looks different to him, as well, or if he can still catch the glimpses of the child who had never tasted the sun that he had first met.

Hunk hesitates, only for a moment, fingers twisting together and looking unsure. She nods and smiles, and he is at her side in an instant, arms around her waist and swinging her up and around with such force her feet leave the ground, prompting a surprised, but not unhappy, giggle from her. After a long moment of stumbling and joyful confusion, he sets her down, arms still looped around her, and she mirrors his position, grinning up at his frazzled, delighted expression.

“We won.” He says, tripping over his words just barely and squeezing her ever so slightly. “We won.”

“I heard.” She laughs. “I knew you could do it.”

Hunk shakes his head. “We did it. All of us.”

“Yes.” She says quietly. “I suppose we did.”

Shay walks him back to her home slowly through the scattered rebel camps and ship repair stations that have sprung up in and around the old, abandoned Galra bases, building something good out of what was once a mark of control over them all, giving Hunk a chance to take it all in properly for the first time. The few times he’s really been around since the Balmera began to become something like the rebellion’s power supplier were always so brief and short, work over socialization, and Shay takes the opportunity to actually show him what her people, what she, has achieved, what they all have contributed to the fight.

There’s something like pride that settles under her skin as Hunk looks around with wide eyes, genuinely seeming amazed, or at least faking it very well as he makes the appropriate noises of surprise. Either way, she takes it for what it is, and chooses to enjoy her moment.

“It’s all pretty different.” He admits to her, hand intertwined with her own as he watches her people and the varied rebels move around with purpose, and she beams.

“I like it.” She says. “It’s… It’s a change we got to choose, not one forced upon us. It is our planet again, not the Galra’s.”

Hunk hums in quiet agreement, his eyes tracking a group of newly landed rebels as they unload their ship. “What happens to them all now, do you think?”

“I doubt anyone is sure.” Shay says softly. “We’ve all of us spent our entire lives under Zarkon’s thumb, and then dedicated almost entirely to this war against him. I rather think many of us are… lost, as what to do next.”

“Do you feel that way?”

She blinks, considering. “…I do not know. I suppose it does not all quite feel fully real yet, much the same as it was when my planet was first freed.”

Hunk snorts. “I feel that.” He pauses, and she waits, looking to him until he shrugs and continues. “It almost felt too… too easy, you know? After all that time fighting, convinced for a long while there we might just die out there, Lotor waved the white flag, and just like that it was… over. I sat there through all those negotiations, all those decisions about what to do with whom, and I still kept expecting to close my eyes and find myself back out there in battle at a moment’s notice.” Shay watches him, and he blinks rapidly, shaking his head and glancing down at her, offering her an unsure smile. “There’s still a lot to do, and Voltron will probably still be needed here and there, even if only as a figurehead or to deal with straggler Galra commanders who don’t get the memo. But… For the most part, the fighting’s over, and I know that. I just… don’t think it’s quite sunk in yet.”

She nods, a silent acknowledgement of understanding, and squeezes the hand holding her own, glancing back out to the moving figures on her planet’s surface. “And what will you do now, then?”

Hunk laughs, quiet but genuine, and she grins, tugging him back along the path as they resume walking once more. “No idea. For the longest time all we did was talk about going home, resuming our old lives, but after all this... I don’t know. It’s different. I don’t think I could go back to the way I was, after seeing so much and being out here so long.” He pauses, clearly thinking. “I went back and saw my family after the negotiations started to wrap up. I hadn’t been home at all since becoming a paladin, and seeing my family again was… so much, everything I ever wanted since I left. But it was so quiet, and I couldn’t seem to sit still long enough no matter how hard I tried.” Hunk sighs. “My family still thinks I’m just coming and going until things get sorted properly with the Galra surrender and then I’ll be home for good, but I don’t know if I’ll actually ever be able to be the person they remember again.”

Shay frowns slightly, trying to imagine going back to who she was before the war, before sunlight and freedom and so much purpose. Even if it was for her family, she does not think she could do it, could not give all that up again. “If they love you, they will understand.”

“Hopefully.” Hunk’s mouth quirks upward, and he shrugs. “Got to admit though, even after everything I’ve seen, everything I could see, I don’t think there’ll ever be anything quite like home.”

That, at least, is a sentiment Shay can fully understand. While even after all this, she still has never left her home planet—and the Balmera help her, isn’t that something to think about, now that it’s all over, actually leaving—but she knows without doubt there will never be any place quite like here in her heart.

Curiosity drives people forward, pushing them to explore and discover new things and new peoples, but it is familiarity, the sense of warmth and comfort that cannot be found quite the same anywhere else, that brings them home.

Shay is both— She is the curiosity born of years of wonder and hope about a life on the surface, and she is the beating heart of the Balmera, strong and steady as she helps her home to grow. It is this wanting, over things she should not have, that allowed her to rebel, and that even now makes Hunk so fascinating to her, but it is her love for her home and her people that makes her who she is.

Sometimes, she wonders which will win out, the desire to chase the stars and see it all, or the well-met duty of being there for her planet. If there is any way she can have both.

Instead, she says, “Tell me about it. Your planet.”

Hunk smiles wide and bright, and he does. He tells her of the varied cultures and climates of the Earth, of all the worlds to discover just on the one planet alone, hidden away on walks of land both big and small separated by oceans of water. He tells her of his home, a small house at the end of a cracked road where an old dog with golden fur sleeps, and of his family, being small and odd-edged but undeniably good at its core.

He tells her of it all, every piece of his Earth, as they walk amongst the rebuilt hope, found in reclaimed bases and growing crystals, of Shay’s home, glorious in its possibilities, in all its potential futures.

“…I wish you could see it.” Hunk finishes softly, once the well-remembered descriptions and tales of his planet have run out. “I’d love to show you one day.”

Shay pauses in her steps, thinking of the many definitions of home and the future and all the things to see, of the always-startling warmth of Hunk’s hand in her own, and of possibilities. There is still so much work to do, in this new universe they are all building from the ashes and from their closely cradled dreams of once believed impossibilities, but there is also so much to discover, simply for the sake of discovery itself, out there too. “And I would love to be shown it.”

Hunk lights up, looking pleased and hopeful and all the things he did the very first time they met, and he told her of Voltron and what it meant to accomplish, and Shay wonders if there is more of who they once were left over than they thought. Or perhaps it is simply that they were more who they are now than they previously gave themselves credit for.

A noise comes from not far in front of them, and Shay realizes that they’ve somehow managed to walk all the way to her home, too caught up in her thoughts and Hunk’s general presence to notice.  Hunk looks to it, glancing at her and shuffling his feet in a clearly hesitant gesture, before the loud bang of something being slammed down echoes from inside, and then Rax is sticking his head out the door and glaring at the both of them as he yells. “Well, come inside then!”

Hunk startles, half jumping behind Shay, and she giggles as Rax casts Hunk one last sour look and disappears back inside. “Don’t worry, he doesn’t actually mind you.”

“…You sure about that?” Hunk coughs, casting one last suspicious glance at the now vacant opening to Shay’s home, and she grins despite herself, wondering if this is what peace, for her Balmera and for all the universe, truly feels like.

(If it is, she thinks she can take it. This can be enough.)

“I’m sure.”

Hunk sighs in relief, turning to face her properly, and on impulse she grabs his other hand, pressing their palms together and interlocking their fingers, counting the beat of his pulse beneath them. He flushes, looking down at their joined hands as if he hadn’t quite registered they’d been there the whole time, and Shay smiles, soft and fond.

There is still so much to talk about, to discover about each other and about the universe, and there is still work to be done. The cycle of growth and change has not ended, not in the slightest, nor should it— The Balmera will continue to evolve, and so must the universe, and them. But for now, they may take a moment, and rest in the shade of the good they have planted as they figure out what to do with themselves next.

Whatever it is, Shay thinks she will be happy, so long as they decide it together.

“Stay for a while?” Shay asks, counting the new, thin scars on Hunk’s face, the starts of laughter lines around his eyes, and Hunk grins, so much what he was when they first met, and yet more.

“Yeah, I think I can manage that one.”

[embrusae]

001. mental illnesses

this headcanon will be dealing with the topic of mental illness, suicide, self harm, abuse, trauma, and so on. Nothing graphic, but even so, please proceed at your own discretion. be safe.

shiro suffers from an array of mental illnesses, all of which stem from his trauma and all of which impact his day to day existence and behaviours. in this headcanon I would like to explore each of these and the impact they have on who he is, as a person and a paladin.

shiro’s list of mental illnesses are as follows:

PTSD

depression

DPD (depersonalization disorder)

paranoia

insomnia

suicidal ideation

below the cut you will find an expansion on each of these.

PTSD. shiro’s most documented mental illness is PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder), and it has roots which expand into the rest of his mental illnesses as well. for example, his imsomnia is due to hyperarousal, his paranoia is due to triggers, and so on. Shiro’s PTSD is completely debilitating at times, for example during flashbacks - though the rest of the time where it seems “less noticeable”, it is in fact directly influencing his actions without causing any outward signs of such. Shiro is constantly battling this affliction; while he may not constantly appear to be in visible distress, he is constantly fighting it, and outward signs are not always visible.

DEPRESSION. shiro’s depression is both a standalone condition and a symptom of his past. Linking into his suicidal ideation (to be later discussed), shiro is constantly consumed by thoughts of guilt and worthlessness. hopeless and often pessimistic, shiro’s only reasons to remain alive are the duties he has been given as leader of voltron. without voltron, without a purpose, shiro sees no reason to live. he rarely eats, and shiro has a constant empty feeling that he attempts to ease through a variety of different things.

food and appetite.  shiro rarely eats, and when he does, he sticks to small meals with a strong flavour. this is because weak flavours, bland tastes, remind him of the meals he was fed as a prisoner. 

emptiness. shiro attempts to fill the void he feels in himself with the perception other people have of him. this is one of his biggest flaws; he depends on the way other people see him. it’s a facade, one he refuses to let slip; this is why it’s hard for shiro to open up. when people see the weaker sides of him, when he stops pretending to be strong - the emptiness flares and begins to grow unbearable. shiro is dependent on other people’s opinions of him, as they fill a hole in him that he can’t fill, himself.

DPD. shiro deals with a near-constant, and fairly severe, detachment from his own physicality - he often finds himself feeling detached from the outside environment, too, known as derealization. he often struggles with the feeling that he is not in control of his own being, and this allows his paranoia (discussed below) to spike. he also struggles with the idea that his memories and thoughts may not belong to himself, instead being implanted or even controlled by the galra prosthetic he is burdened with. 

paranoia. shiro’s paranoia comes in flares, and some days he may get by with only mild paranoia that can be dealt with. other days, it is incredibly debilitating and severe. feelings of disconnection and loss of self make shiro’s paranoia spike; any idea that he is not entirely in control of. this is the root of his paranoia; loss of control. his DPD, other’s perceptions of him, and so on. if he makes a mistake - for example, something as small as pressing the wrong button on an altean device - he will dwell on that and, with the idea implanted that he will be judged or viewed negatively, he grows paranoid and anxious. he has a difficult time opening up, but often times he is mistrusting and jumpy of those close to him. this means he tends to struggle with interpersonal relationships, generally sabotaging them himself, for fear of hurting the other.

imsomnia. this is directly linked to his PTSD (discussed above) - he is constantly exhausted, but his body refuses to allow him to sleep. he wither lays awake, or drifts off, only to wake after an hour or two. shiro has come to deal with the constant fatigue, but it is noticeable by the dark rings that grace his eyes. he never sleeps well, and is often found roaming the castle halls or stimulating himself in an attempt to avoid ruminating.

suicidal ideation. in this, we will also be discussing self harm - these two go hand in hand. as mentioned prior, shiro has no reason to live besides his duties as leader - without voltron, he would have no reason to remain. shiro deals with constant, intense suicidal thoughts, and often times he finds himself self-harming in an attempt to keep from doing something worse. the lesser of two evils, he tells himself. his suicidal thoughts are, of course, prominent when he is in a dangerous situation; shiro must always be in control, and when the thoughts are bad, he tends to take charge as best he can in an attempt to distract himself from the situation. this may make him appear overbearing or downright pushy; but really, he can’t afford to sit back and let someone else take charge, as that’s when the thoughts grow to have more power.

his self harm consists mainly of biting and cutting: he bites himself often, as this provides pain while still leaving less of a mark than cutting. since he does not eat well, his healing is slow - and he doesn’t like to draw attention to himself. his left arm is covered in bite marks and ring-shaped bruises from his jaw, though the cutting is centred around the top of his prosthetic, where metal meets flesh. He attempts to wear long sleeves wherever possible and keeps this as discreet as it can be. His upper portion of his rght arm, the tops of his shoulders, and his left wrist are the focus points of his cutting, while the bruises focus on his left hand and arm.

all of these mental illnesses shape an define who shiro is. in shiro’s eyes, he is little more than a range of symptoms. the line between his personality and his disorders/illnesses are blurred, and shiro knows this better than anyone. his greatest fear is that one day he will lose the remaining sense of self he has and will become nothing more than a collection of symptoms.