#for letting me use her galra oc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ashinan · 7 years

Text

again I went the sappy soft route because Keith’s birthday deserves soft, that boy deserves all the soft, so please enjoy this offering to the Voltron fandom. happy bday, space sweetheart.

home isn’t a place

The mission had gone well for once; Keith had slipped under the radar and planted the bug before the sentries had completed their second rotation. All information was being forwarded to the Blade. The trip back to the base was equally quiet, Keith settling in his seat as he set the flyer to autopilot. Another day, another mission, another stretch of time where Keith was left alone with his thoughts. Biting his lip, he flicked on the console, feeding it through a proxy before selecting the Voltron Coalition promotional videos.

The volume was muted, but Keith knew the words anyway. He’d watched the vids near obsessively, though it did little to fill the ache in his chest at acknowledging his team moving on without him. Shiro leapt into frame, striking a silly pose, and Allura followed after. The sequence was one well known: they would soon pick up the boxed forms of the Voltron Lions and defeat a papier-mâché Zarkon. Flashes of light flared across the screen. Keith tucked his feet up on the seat, chin resting on his knees as he took in his team. Exuberant. Content. Hilarious.

He scrubbed at his eyes.

The ship docked with a quiet hum and Keith shut everything down, wiping the consoles and tugging up his hood. As he swung down, Vrei was waiting for him, leaning against the far wall. Her hood was down, the sharp contours of her face cast primarily in shadow and elongating her nose. She’d decided on a slick salt and pepper Mohawk apparently. She perked up when Keith approached her.

“How’d it go, shortstuff?” she asked, reaching out for the data stick Keith handed her. “Injuries? Fatalities? Vex was surprised when everything remained quiet on the emergency comms.”

“Ha ha,” Keith deadpanned, smiling beneath his mask. Vrei ran her claws under Keith’s hood, scratching at the crown of his head, and Keith leaned into it. “Everything was fine. That should be enough data to tide Kolivan over for at least a few days.”

Vrei chuckled, tapping Keith’s hidden nose. “Have you learned nothing, kit? Leader is never satisfied. He’s always finding ways to make us more miserable.”

Tugging Keith along with her, Vrei led him further into the base. Other Blades wandered by, greeting them both with soft words or nonverbal nods. Vrei kept up a one-sided conversation, her voice low and calming, enough that Keith swayed more than once as fatigue settled in. Vrei caught him by the back of the neck, tucking him close to her side as she continued to talk, the rumble of her voice settling over Keith like a blanket.

The Blade sleeping quarters were close by. Vrei steered them toward it, even as Keith protested over missing the briefing. She scoffed at him, cuffing him gently, before offering to take the information to Kolivan herself. It wasn’t often that Keith was grateful for a break, too afraid of his own thoughts to truly want for quiet, but he leaned against Vrei in thanks. She laughed, pleased and purring.

Pausing at Keith’s assigned quarters, Vrei tugged the hood down and tapped at Keith’s forehead. The mask dematerialized. “Let’s get a look at that pretty face.” She tilted his chin up, glowing eyes scanning his features for anything damaged. Keith allowed it, clenching his jaw to stifle a yawn. Satisfied, Vrei nodded. “Now, there’s a comm and package in there for you, came in on the wire while you were undercover. Get some sleep, and for star’s sake take a shower. We’ll see you at meal prep.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Keith said, smiling when Vrei dropped her nose to Keith’s forehead before shoving him gently toward the door. It swished open, the dark interior fuzzily lit, before sliding closed behind him.

The Blade had provided him with quarters fit for Galra, not for humans. Well, not the human that Keith pretended to be. In the far corner was a makeshift ‘bed’, a collection of blankets and stuffed pillows that Keith had assembled into something comfortable. The Blade slept with small comforts, though Vrei and Vex had actively collected blankets and pillows from the other Blade members to gift to Keith when he’d first arrived. The gesture had endeared Keith to the both of them.

Along the side wall near the refreshing room were a series of buttons and sliding panels, housing multiple Blade suits, the soft training outfits, and the only remaining clothes Keith had brought with him. Placed on one of the haphazardly arranged pillows was a comm unit, and beside it a sizeable metal container, tall enough that Keith would have to hop to sit on it.

Sighing, Keith flopped down onto the bed, picking up the comm unit. If it was Kolivan sending him out again, then there was no point changing just yet. Swiping through to the messages, he scrolled by the general reports from other Blade, searching for anything from Kolivan. Instead, his fingers froze over a message from Voltron.

Sitting up, Keith opened it and tilted the comm unit down, allowing the holo projection to appear in front of him. Hunk and Pidge appeared first, faces too close and squished side by side, before Pidge shoved at Hunk’s cheek and the two of them stepped back. Lance squirmed his way into view. Shiro rolled his eyes behind the three of them, Allura at his side, and Coran yelled from somewhere off frame. With a sigh, Shiro yanked everyone into place, enough that the screen was viewing them all.

Keith scrubbed at his eyes again, balancing the comm unit on his knees as Coran slipped in beside Allura and they all shouted a greeting. Keith smiled, giddy warmth blooming beneath his breastbone. They talked over each other, voices a cacophonous mess that rang in Keith’s ears and settled his muddy thoughts, kicking his heart up. Pidge leapt forward, grabbing the camera and swinging it to her face.

“Listen, Keith, you have to tell Lance that he can’t keep running Red into asteroid fields. She’s going to eject him.”

“She is not!” Lance snapped, shoving Pidge down and out of sight. Her squawk of rage was muffled. “She loves me just as much as Blue does, thank you very much. But dude, dude, she is fast as hell. How you keep up is beyond me.”

Keith laughed, pulling the screen closer. His friends talked over each other, run on sentences bumping into fractured name calling coalescing into everyone just babbling about what Keith had missed. Shiro stood behind them all, a soft smile on his face as his gaze bounced from the group to meet Keith’s eyes, giving a slight wink when Hunk and Lance argued over the finer points of Lion tailgating. Keith reached up and touched the hologram, exhaling sharply when his fingers slid through and the image wavered. It distorted further as his gaze blurred; he dropped his head, hiding his eyes as he listened.

“We’ve sent you a package,” Allura said, talking over the squabble of Pidge, Lance, and Hunk. Keith glanced up. “Apologies, a ‘care’ package. We hope you enjoy it.”

“I threw in some puzzles and baked you some things. Hopefully, they’ve kept.” Hunk lifted a hand, counting off. “Cookies, a cake of some sort, those weird veggie stalks you’re into – oh! I found some seasoning and oils and managed to make some chip like combination. They’re killer.”

Pidge popped up. “Video games. Hunk and I finagled together a portable system with some of the older Earth games. It should keep you from getting too bored between missions and help keep you from becoming all work, no play. We know how you get.”

“General care products,” Lance drawled, hanging between Pidge and Hunk. “You’re stupid bad at actually taking breaks, my dude, but you gotta try the stuff I sent you. It will change your life, I promise.”

Shiro stepped forward, placing a hand on Pidge’s head. “There are a few extra items in there from all of us, just things to show we’re still thinking of you. We hope your missions are going all right.” Shiro’s voice dropped, soft and wistful. “We miss you around here. Come visit when you can, okay? You’re always welcome home.”

Ducking his face down, Keith thumbed over the hologram, uncaring as it wobbled. Home. The image froze on all their faces, open and earnest and loving, tinged blue and smiling for Keith. He smiled back, wiping at his wet cheeks as he laughed. His chest was warm, the hollow ache filled and covered completely.

Hitting replay, he balanced the comm unit on a pillow and stood, poking at the metal container. As Lance and Hunk went into the particulars about a move they used on a Galra fleet that caused a chain reaction, the container opened with a hiss of displaced air. Wrenching the top off, Keith removed the bumper sheet.

Quietly, reverently, Keith unpacked the box. When the recording stopped, he restarted it, drowning in the humming cadence of his friends’ voices. Inside, he found Hunk’s gifts, puzzles of various colours and sizes, containers filled to the brim with fresh baked goods and recipe cards in case Keith wanted to recreate them. He popped a chip into his mouth, groaning in surprise as barbeque exploded over his tongue. He shoved three more into his mouth before wiping his fingers off on his suit.

The console Pidge talked about was tucked into an incredibly soft towel, its pattern a vibrant red slashed with black accents. The console was palm sized and compact, but when unfolded amounted to a screen about the size of a small TV with a holographic keyboard. Pidge hadn’t been kidding about the games: there were over six hundred and thirteen titles. Each game was completed with a high score and Pidge’s name. Keith grinned. Challenge accepted.

Lance’s gift was wrapped up in an elegant gift basket, tied with a ribbon and crinkly tissue paper. Rolling his eyes, Keith sliced through the thin paper with his knife, startling at the flood of scent that immediately rushed him: trees after rain, fruity bubble bath, a woodfire crackling. Breathing in deep, Keith dropped the basket on the bed and dug out the rest of Lance’s items. A robe made of silken fabrics and brilliant red, a strange device that Lance had scribbled ‘FEET’ on, and a small shaving and haircut kit.

Beneath, blankets pillowed the bottom. When Keith yanked them free, he was startled into recognizing his own blanket from his room back on the Castle. A single pillow, fluffy and slightly indented, rolled out onto the bed. His pillow. His favourite one. Wrapping the blanket around his shoulders, Keith arranged the pillow into his makeshift bed, squishing his fist into the material and laughing dizzily.

Once satisfied, Keith peered into the bottom of the container. There were a series of smaller boxes, arranged carefully. Unpacking each was an adventure, Keith nearly toppling into the crate as he unearthed each one. The packages were tied off with different coloured ribbons, likely symbolizing each Paladin. There was another box, thing and long, at the very bottom. Deciding ‘fuck it’, he leapt into the container and tossed it out, snickering at the image he likely made. Shiro would get a kick out of it for sure.

Climbing out of the container, he settled back on the bed, tucking his blanket beneath his thighs as he collected the gifts. He started with the green one, tearing into it and finding a small earpiece placed delicately upon foam material. A note was attached to it from Pidge, scrawled instructions that Keith glanced over before fitting the ear piece in. A thin holographic appeared over his right eye, frequencies scrolling by. She’d gifted him an encrypted space cell phone.

The yellow gift was heavy and tall, enough that Keith had to rise to his knees just to rip it open. Inside were holopads upon holopads, and a small machine with a note from Hunk attached to it. Glancing over it, Keith raised a brow and removed his knife from its sheath, dropping it into the machine with aplomb. It beeped, the top closing, and hummed quietly while Keith waited. When it was complete, the machine beeped again, top opening. The blade was pristine. Only Hunk would develop a blade cleaning machine. Keith chuckled.

The blue and pink ribboned gift was smaller, though no less bulging. When Keith opened it, blankets popped out, spilling over his lap. The fabric was ridiculously warm, thick and comfortable. The note was a mixture of Allura and Lance’s style, sentences running over each other, but the sentiment was the same: space was cold and Keith needed proper insulation. His heart warmed.

The final gift, the thin, black box, Keith unwrapped carefully. Inside was a smaller box and a shimmering blade made of silver hued metal. The sword was double edged and gleaming, ending in a wicked tip. Gold accents burnished the metal; purple and gold fabric twined around the handle. Keith’s mouth went dry. Gently, he drew his fingers over the side of the blade, expecting the cut but only finding a dull edge. Decorative, likely, but could be used if sharpened. Excited, Keith hefted the blade, dazed by the balance and ease with which it settled in his palm. He settled it in the cushy blanket and picked up the smaller box, shaking it slightly.

When he pulled the black ribbon aside, Shiro’s note was the first thing he saw. Beneath it were a series of packages, all garbled with alien languages. Glancing over the note, he laughed at Shiro’s rambling excitement about alien rations that didn’t taste like sawdust bound with Elmer’s glue, as well as the second request for Keith to come home. As he dug through the package, eyebrow raised at some of the pictures on the labels, his fingers brushed hard glass. Tossing most of the ration packages beside him, he unearthed four small glass frames.

Frames with pictures.

Gently, Keith ran his fingers over the edges of the glass. Each picture was of him with another Paladin: caught between Lance and Hunk hugging him, Pidge on his back demanding rides, Allura pushing his mouth up to make him smile. Shiro with his arm wrapped around Keith’s neck, tugged close and head thrown back in laughter. His fingers shook. Stars above, he missed them. His friends. His family.

Sucking in a breath and shoving his palms against his eyes to halt the tears, Keith collected himself. Once he was certain of his composure, he reached for the comm unit. Clicking over to a reply vid, he set it up so that his face was no longer in shadow, the blanket clear on his shoulder. Contentment softened the bruises beneath his eyes. With his gifts around him, he hit record and smiled.

“Thanks for the message and the presents, guys. I miss you all too.”

#voltron #keith's birthday #keith kogane #space sweetheart #andy writes #my fics #season 4 spoilers #thank you to #aurumdalseni #for letting me use her galra oc #vrei is my own whoop #because galra ocs haha #oh my soft boy #deserves all the gifts #he loves his team and his team loves him #ooh rah #(also super sorry for double posting)#(I accidentally hit delete instead of edit)#gooooooood

316 notes · View notes

koko-doodle · 3 years

Text

Voltron AU Idea

During my browsing of the interwebs I have found so many great AUs and I was struck with one last night when I’m supposed to be sleeping. My brain works overtime when it needs to be sleeping!!!

Aaanyways, the idea is basically the team is infiltrating and shutting down a transport base. The main leader sets the base’s core (a nuclear reactor type of power source) into a meltdown to prevent Voltron from accessing any information or supplies. The team gets locked out of the system, not even Pidge can hack it so they have not choice but to bolt it out as fast as possible. Just as they were getting out the door the reactor explodes causing nuclear/gamma rays rushing throughout the facility. That mixed with the stored quintescence at the facility hits the team and the next day they have changed with abilities correlating with their lions and personalities.

Shiro

His ability is flight/teleportation just like his lion. His main change would be added wings and some bird like markings to his skin maybe. He would also get extra strength as well. He can fly super fast and when in flight, he can do a couple of short “jumps” but only a few feet, he can’t teleport super far like Cosmo can. Not a ton of drastic changes on Shiro.

Kieth

His ability is fire. He can withstand extreme heat and his body emits extremely high temperatures when he is panicked or stressed. He kind of has a rage/beast mode thanks to his Galra heritage so don’t piss him off. His change is red skin and horns with claws, maybe a tail and wings? Not sure yet. His beast form is more dragon like and his chest glows red with how hot his body temperature is. This boi can swim through lava because of his resistance to heat. He has full control over his beast form, it’s just hard at first to transition between his two forms.

Pidge

Her ability is nature related. Her whole body would go through a drastic change and she would become a plant based creature. She still looks relatively the same just with green skin and leaves or vines for hair. She would drink a lot more water than usual but doesn’t need to eat food since her body uses photosynthesis to create energy. She has a connection to any plant on any planet and can manipulate it to her advantage. Plant powers FTW.

Lance

Lance’s ability is water! He looks fairly normal most of the time besides his ears being pointed and his eyes are bright blue. When wet he gets scales and becomes basically a merman or sea monster. I haven’t decided how his fish form is going to look quite yet, if I want him to be a shark/killer whale look or more sea monster look like the new Pixar movie Luca. He has full blown water bender abilities though, he can’t make water out of nowhere he can just control the water around him. Since Pidge usually has a water bottle around her now though, if Kieth pisses him off enough he’ll splash him in the face. With Kieth’s ability it steams right off but it still makes him mad.

Hunk

His ability is strength. He gets a bit taller and bulkier, his is almost like a half werebeast of some sort. Little bit furry, maybe a small tail, but large arms retractable claws. He is much stronger than Shiro, even with Shiro’s new abilities. Think of Hunk as the fluffy tank of the team. Very powerful but just a big teddy bear. He doesn’t like it at first but once he realizes he can cut food and peel things with his claws, he starts to get really excited.

Xena (my OC)

Because why not. To me the Galra look bat based in a way so I decided she would look like a gargoyle. Larger ears, horns, anthro legs, wings and a longer tail. Her main issue at first would be noise. She has really enhanced hearing now including echolocation in a way, she covered her ears a lot at first before she learned how to focus her hearing. Her main issue, is blood though. She is like a vampire in the case that she needs it to survive. She can last maybe a week without feeding but she doesn’t go into a bloodthirsty rage or anything without it, she just gets very weak. Passes out if she lets it go long enough.

And that was my thought.

I’ll go back to my hidey hole now.

#voltron #Voltron AU

43 notes · View notes

chibi-pix · 3 years

Text

It is official. The fic for Raising Paladins is finally finished being uploaded. And I want to talk about it.

Warning, post may contain some spoilers.

I’ve spent more than a year uploading this fic and it was worth it. But did you know that it took me only a year to write? No really!

Of course, the modified dates are when I did my edits for uploading. Anyway! It took me a year to write this fic and that was an amazing feat. I feel both proud and overwhelmed about this all. There were moments where I actually doubted myself in this fic. Where I wasn’t sure I was doing well and that it wasn’t... worth it. But I kept pushing those thoughts towards the incinerator. At times it felt like this fic would never end. It felt like it was going on and on, but here it is, seventy seven chapters and it’s finished.

There were chapters where I wasn’t pleased. I hated them so I rewrote them. This is especially true with chapters 17 and 18, both of which have two written versions. Other chapters have faced rewrites, rethinks, and being scrapped. But in the end, I pulled through with writing them.

I’m going to be honest. Before actually writing this fic, I never planned on two OCs, Drek and Kullo. But they were seen in a drawing with taunting Pidge before she tackles Drek in frustration. However, I adored them more and more, so I drew them again and again and before I knew it, they were developing back stories and becoming OCs for this AU. It was good, though, because Pidge needed friends before she got to meet the others.

Okay, this one is spoiler. I actually didn’t plan for Sam to survive. I had originally planned for him to be killed to break Pidge so that Haggar could finally control her. However, another part of my brain decided different. Though not as dark as I originally planned this fic to be, it still has its moments, even with Sam surviving. It felt good to have him survive and return to his family.

One thing that has probably been in thought since the get-go was Sendak. I wanted him to have a moment where he realizes himself and situation and he joins the protagonists. I wanted to have him have this moment, let him be good.

There was an earlier draft of Raising Paladins that won’t see the light of day. Instead of captured at the space base we see in the beginning, Pidge was supposed to be found in the space mall or something, a small child being sold as some exotic pet. This would insinuate that something happened to Earth and she was captured; others perhaps would have been, too. It would be there that Haxus and Sendak find her while getting supplies or taking a break, and Haxus would want to take her in, thinking she looked sad and shouldn’t be in a cage. However, the idea was changed to what we have now, even giving Haxus opening to a Blade of Marmora agent. Fun fact, when I first started watching VLD, which was in 2019 I think since I was late to the party, I wanted Haxus to actually be a rebel against the empire, show to be good and help take down Sendak. This was before I even knew about the Blade of Marmora or that there were good Galra. I had hopes. But those hopes didn’t stand. Oh well. At least I got him as a BoM agent in this fic. Which, another fun fact, this isn’t my first time working with Haxus as a BoM agent. In the unfinished, unpublished Altean Born, Olkari Raised, or ABOR, au and fic, he becomes an agent there after changing sides.

This next part is also spoiler. Another thing that was hit or miss was Pidge’s features changing. I loved the scars to begin with and the streak of white hair she has. Those were fun. But then giving her an opportunity to have all white hair was amazing. I had questioned myself on the Altean marks she gets later on. But I found a way to make them work. And I’m actually pleased in the end. I was also pleased with getting others injured when her hair first turned all white. It gave me an excuse to scar everyone, and Shiro further. Giving Keith and Matt the scars we see in canon and giving them an excuse in this AU was grand. And having Shiro lose his arm? I liked it. I even liked the touch of Lance losing the use of his eye. I loved having Pidge be the reason for their injuries, but I also love that they don’t blame her. They understand her situation and know it’s not her fault. That’s a good team and family.

Anyway, I spent so long on this fic. And I’m happy in the end. I’m pleased at how well things have gone. And I want to thank you guys. Silent fans who leave guest kudos to those who are seen to be giving kudos, those who comment, those who don’t, those who hit like or reblog when I share the updates on here. Everyone. Thank you all so much. I appreciate the love shown and it makes me happy.

I’m happy to finish this fic and I’m happy to have gone on this journey with you all.

Anyway, that’s all I wanted to talk about. Until next time.

#Raising Paladins au #vld #Voltron legendary defender #fanfic review #a year in writing #chibi writes

13 notes · View notes

carlottastudios · 4 years

Photo

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY EVERYBODY!!! LET’S CELEBRATE WITH SOME ANGST!!! Okay, you’re probably not seeing the angst right now, but I think you’ll it once I introduce you to the lovely ladies depicted in this image: they are the mothers of two of my OCs! (2 of my fav OCs, honestly) On the left is Krevra, mother of my VLD OC Zuri, and on the right is Agatha, mother of my pseudo-OC from Treasure Planet Kate. And now, those who follow my content closely are probably going “Ohhhh, I think I see the angst now.” And everyone else is probably noticing the title of this piece and can now guess some of the angst. So, as you might’ve guessed or remembered, Zuri’s mother Krevra is dead. She sacrificed herself to save Zuri and Ulaz when Zuri was only a few days old. A scouting team from the Galra empire had found the outpost where the parents were hiding with their newborn (they’d gone there so Krevra could deliver and recover from said delivery before they brought Zuri to the base where all of the other legacy members are kept and raised). The outpost was equipped for battle, but it was still outmatched by the far-more-mobile scouting team, especially as they called in reinforcements. Krevra and Ulaz recognized that they weren’t going to win this battle and, even if they escaped, the scouts would probably shoot down their pod, not to mention be able to investigate the outpost and possibly discover the Blades. Still, Krevra insisted that Ulaz get Zuri and they get in the escape pod. Ulaz did so, but Krevra didn’t board with him. She just shut the door and launched the pod with her husband and child. She stayed on the base, luring in the Galra scouts, and then activated the self-destruct, catching the Galra fighters in the blast. In her last moments, she was deeply saddened that she’d never get to know her youngest child, but she loved her and was more than willing to sacrifice that (and her own life) if it meant saving her. On the slightly-less heart-wrenching end, Kate’s mother Agatha is still alive and quite well. Like Krevra, she loves her daughter very much, but unfortunately, she’s rather distant as a mother. Not willingly so. If given the choice, Agatha would love to be closer to her family and spend a lot of time with them. But Agatha works as an assassin for the Council of Crowns (the ruling body that governs most of the galaxy of Treasure Planet in my headcanon). Understandably, such a dangerous and time-consuming job prevents Agatha from being actively involved in Kate’s life. She is able to communicate with her via letters, and, in fact, they have a bit of a routine about this. Kate will send letters to Agatha about once a fortnight, Agatha receives them via one of the councilmembers (real nice lady, good friend of Agatha’s, very decent queen) and then is given a few days off from any missions, during which she writes and sends her response to Kate. It’s a method that mother and daughter have gotten used to, but of course it’s not the same as actually being in each other’s company. Agatha is very aware of this and, no matter how many letters she receives, can’t help but feel like she misses out on so much of Kate’s life. So even though she follows her duty exceptionally well, she secretly curses it for separating her from her family. And now you fully see the angst. So, yeah, this isn’t the most uplifting way to celebrate Mother’s Day, and I am sorry about that (my mom and my family are celebrating in a much happier way this evening). But I will say that it was very uplifting to make such a BEAUTIFUL PIECE!!! Like OH MY GOD, I’m not gonna lie to you guys, I am proud of this! Not only with the drawings of the mothers (yes, I will upload their fully-coloured designs eventually), but also for all of the glowy effects with the lineart and the sparkly effects with the tears, not to mention THAT BACKGROUND!!! I’ve been struggling to paint space-like/night-sky-like/galaxy-like backgrounds for a bit, but I somehow found a way to make it work this time!!! I hope you guys also appreciate all of the subtle symbolism I put in this drawing. See if you spot all of it! 😉 And…now I’m really disappointed I forgot to record a speedpaint video for this drawing. T-T Ah well. You win some, you lose some. Hope you guys enjoy this piece and learning about Krevra and Agatha! Honestly, though, I don’t want to stop talking about them yet, so can you all please do me a favour? Could you please spam me in the comments (or in asks on tumblr) with questions about them? Whether it’s about their designs, their personalities, their backstories, anything! I’d really appreciate it!!! Once again, happy Mother’s Day! REFERENCES: None to be had except the character designs! DISCLAIMERS: Treasure Planet © Disney Voltron: Legendary Defender © DreamWorks & World Events Productions Krevra, Zuri, Agatha Smollett Rains and Kate Rains © me this drawing © me

P.S. Thank you @sleeplessdreamer14 for inspiring me for the background and pretty much the whole idea of the aesthetic for this piece, thank you!

#Behold My Beautiful Little Brain Child (my original post)#Chicken Scratch Brain Child (my art)#Too Many Movies For Me To Name (non/disney)#Safe In My Space Pocket (voltron legendary defender)#My Assassin Mom Daughter (N-D: OC: agatha)#My Spotty Mom Daughter (VLD: OC: krevra)#it's strange I don't count agatha and krevra as OCs exactly #as in I don't count them officially as part of my official OC roster #because they're kinda 'side characters' compared to my 'official' OCs which are like 'main' characters #but I still wanted to give them their own tag #ah well nothing really wrong with that

17 notes · View notes

starfaring-princelotor · 5 years

Text

The Prison Kingdom

Chapter 1: The Empty Legacy

Summary: The world is becoming more and more dangerous, both on land and sea. It’s time for you to face this fight, and dragon, on your own terms. Even if it means siding along with the kingdom who would condemn your kind without mercy.

Warnings: Mention about decapitation.

★ Disclaimer: I do not ship Lotura and I respectfully ask that this story to not be tagged as Lotura. This is a Lotor x Reader/Self-Insert OC story which is in no way related to Lotura at all. Please be respectful of my chosen pairing. ★

A/N: It’s a medieval-ish AU with dragons. What more could you want?

1 . 2 .

[There’s an old saying among renegade sea folk: The pirate that counts their booty are mere thieves.

War and death have pillaged the water and dirt of the planet for centuries, costing innocent lives from both sides. It was easy to paint the enemy as the enemy, as the one who needs to die before their sword cuts down your soul. It was easy to defend what you righteously believed needs to be defended, whether that be gold or the treasures that come with family and friends. It was easy to embrace that the laws of the sea were, at best, just rumors among the free people.

And such laws, such rules whispered by the dead man, don’t apply to the mystical wildlife. They don’t apply to creatures who have no loyalty, who have no other moral besides kill and eat for survival. From the trolls of the mountains, to the mermaids of the sea, to the fae of the forests, to the very dragons who control elements with ferocity matching the epitome of death itself, it would do well to remember that a set of fangs have no set order to kill.

But while beasts and monsters roam, and kingdoms rise and fall to the tests of time, and legends become lingering myths by the breath of the wind, it is the folly of prideful ignorance which murders countless more than the culmination of every bloodthirsty demon known in existence. With that in mind, tread carefully around those you would call allies or friends or like-minded folks. The Codex of Life may preach all-for-one and one-for-all, but deep down, it is a beautifully written lie for the over-eager martyrs.

Do not fall for such false speech regarding the dichotomy of good and evil.

Severing a hydra’s head will not kill it. Mana spells are useless against the naga’s of the Ice Plateaus. Beware of the volcano whose smoke takes form of two lovers, for no weapon or mantra can quell their rage should you cross them on a full moon. This collection of knowledge will help spread death, strike fear and hope in the hearts of many, and I leave this to you, my child.

You will have no legacy to follow. You are the bastard child I left behind to reach that unreachable freedom. You will make your own name amongst the farthest edges of the sea with every gale that blesses your sails.

You are a pirate.]

Closing the leather-bound journal, you skimmed your thumb over the pressed design of crossbones and cutlass’ on the cover. A legacy forgotten and one you would never know about? Dead men tell no tales, indeed. But regardless, this book would help with the bounty you were debating on facing. The paper was flimsy, hastily ripped off the pole to save for later, but the words were clear as day. And if you were able to complete this task, pocket enough shiny coin to support your entire crew with all the rum and pleasure they could want for years on end, leave behind your own legend, then that’d be enough for you.

“Seeking Dragonslayers of all kind! Report to Altea, Blessed Kingdom of Oriande!”

Then, hastily scribbled at the bottom.

“Speak to Paladin Takashi of the Black Mane Guild.”

Hefting yourself from your seat, you downed the rest of your mug reeking of ale and moist wood. The jovial band played, the patrons danced, the entire room was filled with fighting life, and it was impossible to not let it flow through you. It felt wrong to hold such a book in this place, the taboo writings from death’s bleeding quill. And so, with a tip of your hat and a silver doubloon for the ever so diligent barkeep, you stumbled out into the chill of the night with nothing but your guns, your sword, and the magical warmth of ale to keep you steadfast and eager towards your freedom.

But freedom always came with a cost and you paid a leg to chase it.

When you passed through the heavily fortified gates of Altea, shimmering in that pristine metal forged only by the elves of old, nothing came as a surprise. This place, this kingdom, the people here, were rich with elegance and practically congested in an air of royalty. Prim and proper. Clean, lethal, and ready to strike while looking mystical by default. Alteans, they called themselves. A long generation of the ancient Elven deities, granted with the dwindling power of magic.

The book states they do not share their secrets with outsiders. Not even to those stupidly loyal to them.

Imagine the raised brow of confusion when you saw their captain, that Takashi fellow, was a werewolf. So far from his pack, this one. Though, it made sense. Ferocious, fierce, werewolves were not meant to be trifled with, full moon or no. The loyalty of the wolf combined with the logical reasoning of man? Smart. Now, the real question was where did his allegiance lie?

“Paladin Takashi, I presume?”

Grey eyes, like the foggiest of winter nights, met yours and you saw him size you up with but a flash. Not lecherously, no, more like how a soldier would assess a fight, a situation, a potential ally or enemy. With amusement glistening in YOUR eyes, you found that he couldn’t pinpoint you down. A pirate on land? Joining the fight for a good cause? Yes, yes, you heard it all before. Walking ironies were always meant to be suspicious.

But pirates had charm and you knew when to use it.

With a flourished bow, both exaggerating in mock and respect, you spoke through a grin, “Allow me to introduce meself, ser. I be known as Peg-Leg the Kegmaster, cannon crafter and duelist extraordinaire of The Mermaid’s Doom, here at yer service.”

“A pirate?”

“Aye, a pirate, and if ye gunna be needin’ a slayed dragon, then yer gunna be needin’ what I have’ta offer.”

“To be honest, I’m surprised the guards didn’t detain you at first sight. But, desperate times call for desperate measures,” he replied freely, not at all with a judgmental tone but one of legitimate concern for you, for a stranger.

“An’ I be the perfect one fer those desperate times, mate.”

You placed the bounty parchment on the table in front of him then slid into the seat, onlookers tending to their own business. Coming here, to the central command of the vigilant army, there were all sorts of different kinds of folks around. Some wielding spears and donning turtle shells on their backs, others like Shiro with ears and tails and even fangs of werewolves, feathered harpies whose talons looked lethal enough to kill a shark, and even dwarves armored with fine metal from top to bottom.

A ragtag group of people, all coming together to fight one monster which has been blighting their landlubbing surface for who knows how long. An honorable cause, but as they say, there’s no honor amongst thieves. That’s why proving yourself right now would be pivotal to your aligned goals.

“By order of Her Majesty, Princess Allura, I have been bestowed the task of ridding the quintessence raged dragon of the north. Because of this, we can not allow magic-wielders to join our group. I know Peg is not your real name - “ you grinned cheekily, not at all affected by the admonishing tone in the truth, “ - but if you use quintessence to fight, I’m afraid you’re of no use to us on the frontline.”

“Nay, I t’aint one for hocus-pocus witchcraft. You start mutterin’ curses and voodoo gobbledee gook, I scatter like-a flock o’ gulls fleeing from the slimy tentacles of kraken itself.” With a nod to the paper, you continued, “If I were to be speakin’ the truth, matey, I’m here fer the gold. Nothing more, nothing less. Anything to do with yer kingdoms rubbin’ elbows with ya fancy silks are of no concern to me.”

Shiro leaned back, arms crossed, then tilted his head just a bit, not at all unlike a puppy trying to understand some strange phenomenon. He wasn’t a fresh soldier from the pack. Battle scars under his fur showed that this isn’t the first time he’s faced a foe bigger than himself. It was only by his strong connection with his righteous virtues and a debt owed to Altea, more specifically Honerva, that he was appointed captain of this draconic crusade.

But his trust in his instincts were always on point. That made him invaluable and right now? With watching you smile that smarmy smile, his instincts told him that, yes, you were good. Rogues were a recipe for trouble, add that with the lot of pirates, and you get chaos. An ace up the sleeve, a random boon that benefits all based on the law of uncertainty. Shiro would take a draw rather than a loss any day.

And he’s dealt with pirates before. Closely, in fact.

The Paladin rubbed his chin with his prosthetic arm, the smooth surface of quintessence run mechanism offering a small calm for his thoughts. “Where’s the rest of your crew?”

“The wind in the sails took ‘em to the sea. I chose t’stay. ‘Tis only a matter of time before this dragon o’ yers starts roosting in other lands and I ain’t one for facing more monsters below and above the waves,” your voice trailed off for a moment before your eyes snapped from his arm to his face, “Nor am I lookin’ to be noosed by yer masters. If this alliance can not be, I’ll be on me merry way an’ ye won’t need ‘ta worry about one more pirate on your plate.”

But he was no fool. Word of the growing stress between kingdoms reached even overseas in the last decade. News about the alliance between Altea and Daibazaal falling out with King Alfor’s death, or rather, “assassination.” It was rumored that the Galra leaders unleashed an ancient dragon, created of pure quintessence, to attack the Elven empire and cripple the nation. After the destruction which nearly annihilated the royal family, it fled to the Kral Zera holy lands, never to be seen again.

Until now. Shiro repeatedly told himself that perhaps this was just a dead end, a fairy tale told to keep kids safe and sound inside. A story meant to induce fear that the evil dragon can sense wrongdoings and will come eat you to gain more power. All leads he followed led to different answers, and this may be an unaccomplished quest in the end, but if that were the case, then he will serve to protect the innocent at the highest cost.

“The Black Mane work with several nations, not just one. If you can prove to be useful, be battle ready when needed, and are willing to help all, then consider yourself part of the pact,” he pulled out a folded paper from his pouch then slid it to you, “It’s a contract, rules to be followed while commissioned by the guild.”

“Yer giving me a set o’ rules?”

Now, this is where he let slip a grin hiding familiar mischief, “They’re more like guidelines should you choose to follow them, for your safety and the successful completion of this quest.”

“Tell me something, cap’n,” you asked, eyes reading but mindful of his attention, “Have ye ever broken one o’ them rules of yers?”

“Yes.” Straight answer with a tone of finality, a tone of that is all I’m saying on the matter.

You signed across the line, temporarily giving your time and life over to this noble cause, “Then do we have an accord?”

Shiro shook hands with pirates before. He’s taken more hands before, too. But what most people would suspiciously think about making deals with pirates were wrong. Honor and loyalty weren’t definitions they followed by their very soul, not like he did, yet as he firmly grasped your offered hand in agreement, his instincts told him one jarring fact.

This deal was empty, but oddly promising.

#spacestories #lotor x reader #hoist the colors!!!

47 notes · View notes

spacelion-loveshermulletson · 5 years

Text

Keith and Kaela edits! (Sneaking out)

Bonus:

Kaela attempts to sneak out on a mission to gather intel from a nearby Galra base she’s been station at in her earlier years. While doing so, she hopes to discover whether or not Zarkon still has a way to track her down - and if so, then she will have to put some distance between herself and the Paladins.

However, Keith is already waiting at the hangar, catching her in the act. He’s been having a feeling that she’d be trying to act on her own and he decided to be prepared for it to happen. Kaela tries to come up with an excuse as to why she’s there, but Keith won’t have any of it. He knows what she’s planning and he’s coming along. No use in arguing with him, he has decided. So either she will let him come with or he will wake up everyone else and make it impossible for her to get far on her own.

Kaela feels bitter about the whole thing and sits begrudgily beside Keith while he pilots them to their destination.

This is stupid, Kaela thinks. She can handle herself. Besides, if she is being tracked then Keith is making it really difficult for her to protect them by staying with her. Her attempts to be of help is being thrown away! She says as much. Keith states that she is being unreasonable and that he can’t believe she actually thought he would let her do this all by herself. He is not going to just leave her alone! Not on a mission, nor if running away and hiding. He will be there with her.

Kaela is silent when hearing that. If she has to run, then..-

Then Keith will come with her.

So then, the bag he had with him was..-

In preparation in case they’d need to travel far. Like he said, he won’t let her go alone. If she has to leave, then he will leave with her. He hopes it doesn’t have to come to that, but if it does then he’s ready for it.

Why? Why would he go so far for her? Why risk leaving Voltron behind?!

Because she is his sister. He lost her once. He’s not going to lose her again. He refuses.

The words comes so easy from his mouth that Kaela is unable to say anything after that. She simply slumps down in her seat, sorting through her thoughts. Keith is serious. He really would go that far for her. The realization makes her smile. It almost makes her giggle. She has such a doting big brother~

...

After getting what they need, without further complications nor getting any signs of the Galra following them, the siblings make their way back to the Castle of Lions. The travel back is quiet, neither of them knowing what to say anymore. Once they’re back however, Kaela feels a strong need to say something. To convey to Keith how much she appreciated him coming with her.

Not knowing the right words though, Kaela decides to just act instead and throws herself against her brother, his arms hesitantly, but quickly, coming to rest on her back in a gentle hug. If feels nice. She feels safe.

“Thank you,” she whispers, “For staying with me.”

Keith’s arms holds onto her a little tighter at that.

“Always.” he answers.

It is a promise he makes.

...

OC is owned by @kallura-juniblade I hope you enjoyed this, my friend!

#my edits #my edit #oc #vld oc #kaela kogane #keith kogane #kogane siblings #writing

39 notes · View notes

rubymoon-snape · 5 years

Text

Adoption

Author Note: This is AU, where Thace, Ulaz, and Antok survived. Keith considers the BoM his pack, and they consider Keith their kit. Krairl is an original character. In this AU, Keith is able to shift from a completely human form to a half-Galran form.

Tags: DoM, Daddy Keith, OC Galran Kit, Skeptical Paladins but they come around

Keith was never more grateful that Red could fly herself than he was at that moment. His lion was flying herself back to the castle ship, which allowed him to focus all his attention on the precious little one cradled against his chest.

He and the Paladins had been on an infiltration and data retrieval mission, when Keith heard a kit's distressed cry. He couldn't ignore it and went to investigate. He located the kit easily enough, but his heart broke when he saw the kit's condition. She was all alone in the dark in a dilapidated crib in only a diaper. He immediately shifted to a complete Galra hybrid form and took of his helmet, purring to the little kit. She stopped whining and looked at him. He held his arms out as he slowly approached her. She held her stubby little arms out for him to pick her up. He scooped her up and put her nose close to his neck, near his scent glands. As she nosed his neck, Keith's eyes darted around the room. There were no adult Galra on the ship, which meant the kit was abandoned! The very idea made Keith's blood boil. He knew how it felt to be abandoned, though his case was unique. He didn't blame his mom for leaving to protect him or his dad for dying in the fire that consumed their home or even Shiro for getting kidnapped during the Kerberos mission. The ones he blamed were the foster families that continuously returned him after a few months of trying to raise him. He hadn't deserved it, and he was determined to make sure this kit grew up loved.

He stroked her headfur and carried her out of the room, heading in the direction of his team, the little kit letting out very soft whimpers every so often to which Keith replied with soothing purrs. The team was surprised to see Keith had shifted, since he normally didn't do that on missions, and was carrying a Galran kit.

"Keith, what do you have there?" Shiro asked cautiously.

"An abandoned kit," was the too calm reply. The Paladins recognized that tone. Keith only used that tone when he was trying to rein in his anger or frustration.

"Are you sure it's abandoned?" Lance questioned.

Keith's eyes flashed yellow and he stopped purring for a dobosh. The kit in his arms whimpered, causing Keith to resume his purring, and he nuzzled her head gently. His purr was heard in his voice, which made his voice sound strange. "She was abandoned, but not any longer. She will come with us."

"The castle isn't a good place to raise a child," Shiro pointed out.

"I will not discuss this any further, especially here. We're going to Red."

Keith carried his kit towards his lion, who purred in his mind. "Who is this, cub?"

"She was abandoned here on this ship, but now, she has me to care for her."

"Come inside, cub. I will fly back to the castle while you look after her." Red knelt down so Keith could enter her mouth. He was pleasantly surprised when he entered her cockpit to see that her lights were lowered, so it wouldn't overwhelm the kit.

While Red flew towards the castle, Keith looked at the kit properly and was surprised. Aside from a couple of details, she looked quite similar to him while he was in his complete hybrid form. They both had fluffy ears, a tail, and short lavender colored fur. Their eyes were the same as well, violet irises with black pupils and yellow sclera. Her headfur looked strange though. It looked like someone had chopped it super short in some areas but left others long and tangled. Keith groomed her headfur the best he could, and by the time they landed at the castle, the kit was looking much better.

Keith quickly changed out of his Paladin armor and into a pair of comfortable black pants that were made out of a knit-type of material and a short sleeved black shirt that was made out of some type of soft material. Both articles of clothing were bought at the Space Mall when he was with the Blades. His pack had been appalled at his lack of clothing and had taken him shopping and bought him several outfits and materials for his private nest at the castle. His little kit had looked around his room in fascination from his nest as he quickly changed clothes. When he scooped her back up, she felt his shirt and chirped in surprise at the texture of the shirt, especially compared to his fur. He cradled her close to his chest, his tail coming up to add another layer of security for her. Keith wasn't expecting her to grab ahold of his tail, but he didn't yank it away either. It was rather endearing yet heartbreaking that the kit was making sure Keith wasn't going anywhere without her.

The Red Paladin carried his kit to the bridge, where the other Paladins were filling in Allura and Coran as to what happened. Allura lifted her eyes when Keith entered the bridge and gasped slightly. Her eyes flicked between Keith and the little kit, noticing the numerous similarities between the two.

"Allura, before you say anything, she is not biologically mine, but I am going to raise her."

"It was abandoned?"

"Yes. She was."

"Galra don't abandon their kits without a good reason. Maybe putting it back would be the best course of action."

Keith's eyes flashed yellow again, but he couldn't help but growl. The little kit mewled in response to the growl, causing Keith to stop growling. He nuzzled her neck gently, making a strange humming sound, which seemed to soothe the kit. His tail rubbed up and down her back as he looked back up at Allura. "With all due respect, Princess, I refuse to abandon this kit to the fate her biological parents had. She is mine now, and if you do not permit this, I will take her with me to headquarters and raise her there. You will still have enough Paladins to form Voltron without me, so it is no inconvenience to you either way."

Allura remained quiet, but Keith didn't miss the way her shoulders tensed. He frowned. "Then, I am going to contact Kolivan."

"Wait a dobosh, number four," Coran interrupted. "Before you do, may I perform a scan on your new kit? Just to make sure it is safe for her to travel."

"As long as these scans don't cause her pain and can be done in my arms."

"Oh yes. They are quite harmless, and I wouldn't dream of removing a new kit from her parent's arms." Coran led Keith to the infirmary. "However, it might even be more beneficial to your bond with her, if she could feel your fur against hers."

"Are you suggesting I remove my shirt?"

"Galran kits require touch, and the easiest way for one so small to get as much as she can is to remove your shirt." Coran took out a handheld scanner. "Now, just hold her still for a dobosh."

He scanned the tiny kit quickly and efficiently. While they waited for the results, Coran assisted Keith in not only taking off his shirt but also changing the kit's diaper, while not disturbing the kit more than absolutely necessary. Once Keith had his shirt off, his kit seemed to be even calmer than before, a very soft purr coming from her tiny form. Keith lifted his gaze from his kit to Coran's face with amazement evident on his face. "How did you know that?"

"Back before the war began, I would see Galran parents do that with their kits."

Cradling his kit even closer, Keith asked, "What would make someone abandon their own flesh and blood?"

"I do not know, number four, because according to these readings, she is extremely healthy." There was a dobosh of silence between the two of them before Coran inquired, "What are you going to name her?"

Keith paused. What was he going to name her? "I'm not sure. I want her to have a Galran name that starts with a 'K,' but I'm not good with names."

Coran smiled at Keith. "That's alright, Keith. Maybe your pack can suggest some names for your little one."

Keith smiled. "Would you be able to convince Allura to wormhole us to headquarters, so I don't have to pilot and hold her," Keith nodded towards the now napping kit in his arms, "at the same time."

"I'm sure I can manage something." Coran draped Keith's shirt over his back, securing it so it wouldn't fall off. "Go ahead and contact Kolivan, so he will be expecting you."

Keith left the infirmary without jostling the kit, who simply snuggled further into his chest, relishing in the contact. Keith made it back to his room and sat down in his nest with his kit easily seen in the data pad he held in front of him. He initiated the video call to the leader of the Blades.

%%%

Kolivan was in his office, going over reports from his operatives, and wasn't expecting a video call request from his kit. He set aside the reports and answered the call. He was surprised to see his kit in his half-Galran form, shirtless, and with a tiny Galran kit snuggled up against his chest.

"Keith?"

"Kolivan, I am coming in. I found this kit abandoned while on a mission. Allura wanted me to put her back on the empty ship." Keith paused here, letting Kolivan growl. "Obviously, I refused to do that."

"Bring her here, kit. We will assist you in her care."

Keith smiled. "Thank you, Kolivan."

"You're welcome, kit. What is her name?"

"I haven't named her yet. I was wanting a Galran name that starts with a 'K.'"

"And you don't know any."

"Would you guys be able to come up with some I can choose from?"

"Certainly, kit. We look forward to your return." The link was closed, and Keith let out a sigh before setting about to packing. He had a few more things to pack than before due to his pack buying him things. He packed all of his clothes (except the Red Paladin armor, Red Altean Pajamas, and Red Lion Slippers) and his nesting materials. He had just finished packing and had grabbed his bag with his tail when there was a knock on his door. He walked to the door, which opened revealing Hunk on the other side. The Yellow Paladin seemed to deflate when he saw the bag Keith was holding with his tail.

"So, you're really leaving?"

"Yes. Unless Allura changes her mind, I will be raising my kit with the Blades full time."

Hunk looked down at the little kit, who was snuggled against her Dad's furry chest, softly purring. "Uh, why aren't you wearing a shirt?"

"Coran told me that kits need...fur-to-fur contact, I guess is the best term, and this is the easiest way to ensure that."

Hunk nodded. "Can I...pet her? No, that's not the right word. Touch her fur? No, that's not right either."

Keith grinned. "I know what you're asking, big guy. Go ahead. Just be very gentle. I recommend using one finger."

Hunk very carefully trailed one finger down the kit's back. "She's so soft, like a kitten." He turned his attention back to Keith. "Listen, since you aren't staying, are we allowed to contact you?"

Keith's eyes softened. "Of course. I have the data pad that Pidge made for all of us, and I welcome calls from you guys."

Hunk looked like he wanted to sweep Keith up in a tight hug but didn't want to hurt the kit. Keith set his bag down and wrapped his tail around Hunk's waist, tugging him close to his side. Hunk took the hint and wrapped an arm around Keith's shoulders and gave them a tight squeeze. "We'll miss you, man."

"I'll miss you guys too, but she needs me." Keith unwrapped his tail, which signaled Hunk to release his grip on Keith's shoulders. Keith picked up his bag with his tail.

"I can carry that for you if you'd like," Hunk offered.

Keith paused. Having Hunk carry his bag would allow his kit to hold onto his tail. He held his bag out for Hunk to take, which he did. He brought his tail forward and allowed his kit to grab ahold of his tail and snuggle it. "Thanks, buddy."

"Aww! She really loves your tail."

"I thought it was because she didn't want me to put her down," Keith said as they started walking.

"Do you mean you haven't put her down? Not even to change clothes?"

Keith thought about that. He had put her down in his room, and she didn't fuss. "I guess she felt safe in my nest."

"It was probably your scent surrounding her," a new voice spoke up.

Keith looked up to see the team, Allura, and Coran waiting for him in the hangar, where a Marmoran pod was docking. The one who had spoken was actually Pidge.

"You guys didn't have to see us off."

"Nonsense, Mullet," Lance replied. "You know we're going to miss you."

"I'm going to miss you guys too, but like I told Hunk, my kit is my top priority now. She deserves a loving home, and she'll have that with the Blades, with me."

"Then, she'll have all the love she needs and more," Shiro responded. "We wish you all the luck, Keith, but I doubt you'll need it with your pack to help you." Shiro gestured to the pod and the Marmoran exiting it.

Keith grinned. It was Kolivan! Kolivan walked over to his kit and nuzzled him in greeting. Keith nuzzled back and turned slightly so Kolivan could greet his daughter in a similar fashion. Kolivan used one claw to stroke the little kit's headfur. She slowly blinked at the Galra who was essentially her grandfather and chirped at him. He smiled and rumbled to her. She settled back into her Dad's arms with a purr.

"I came to get you so you wouldn't have to pilot and hold her at the same time, my kit. The path is treacherous enough without a young kit in your arms."

"I appreciate that, Kolivan. Thank you."

"We should leave before the path closes."

Keith nodded and started to follow his leader to the pod but paused when he heard Allura call out his name. "Keith!"

He turned around and watched as Allura approached him. "Yes?"

"I just wanted to apologize for angering you earlier. This situation is an unusual one."

"I appreciate your apology, Princess, but I am not staying. Shiro was right earlier when he said that the castle is not the best place to raise a kit. Perhaps visiting would be possible, but for now, I should take my kit to her new home."

"Be safe, Keith. I hope to at least hear from you soon."

Keith continued into the Marmoran pod and settled into a seat while Kolivan started the launch procedures. Once they were complete, Kolivan piloted the pod out of the castle and through the narrow path to the headquarters. All the while, Keith was cuddling with his kit as his thoughts were swirling in his head, creating a maelstrom which made it hard to focus on one thought. The situation was finally catching up to him, and it made him feel exhausted. He had been running on adrenaline and following his instincts this entire time. He forced himself to stay awake while Kolivan landed the pod in the hangar.

Kolivan realized that Keith was tired as he powered down the pod. He carefully led his kit down the ramp, and once they were away from the pod, he scooped Keith up into his arms, making sure his kit had a secure hold of his little kit. The tick Keith felt Kolivan pick him up, he knew his father would ensure he made it to the nest safely.

Kolivan entered the nest room and set Keith gently into the nest before climbing in himself. He settled in behind Keith, nuzzling his kit's neck. Keith purred and noticed that the rest of his pack (Antok, Thace, and Ulaz) were there. The three other adult Galra gathered around him and his little one.

"She's so tiny," Thace mentioned.

"Where did you find her?" Antok asked.

"She is adorable." Ulaz remarked.

"I found her abandoned on a Galra ship the Paladins infiltrated. She was so scared and crying. I couldn't leave her there. I rescued her, but the Paladins, mostly Allura, didn't want me to keep her. So, I left to raise her here with my pack." Keith smiled at his four father figures. "I just need a name for my kit; a Galran name that starts with a 'K.'"

"We actually have one that means 'bright light.' Krairl," Thace suggested.

"Krairl...Krairl...it's perfect." Keith looked down at his kit. "My little Krairl. She's definitely a bright light in my life." Keith yawned.

"You are tired, my kit," Kolivan stated. "You and Krairl sleep. We will watch over you."

Keith curled around his little kit as they drifted off to sleep surrounded by their pack, safe and sound.

Fin

#vld #keith kogane #dads of marmora #orphan keith #adoption #daddy keith

54 notes · View notes

rueitae · 5 years

Text

Once More, With Feeling

For @paliseizy‘s Coran Week! I had this idea lurking in my head for a while, but this event kicked me in gear to finish! Much thanks to @sp4c3-0ddity for her usual encouragement. For the prompts Ship (Coran and an OC, though its not the focus) and AU.

When given the option to try and change the past for Allura's sake, he takes it. It's just a bonus he gets to change Keith's life for the better.

Or, canon compliant Coran time travels and raises Keith in canon divergent AU.

Warning for Major Character Death (of old age, and at the beginning).

Read on Ao3. Roughly 10,600 words.

~~~~~

Coran pauses, arm outstretched to open the door before him.

It hasn’t gotten any easier, his greying hairs an outward expression of his aged body and mind. Although he’s spent the trip from Altea mentally preparing himself for this, it hasn’t helped. Even though everyone has greeted him kindly upon arrival he’s terrified to open the door, not because of who he’ll see - never who - but what.

The grip on the flowers tighten. He must. He’s paid the same to the others, his children by choice, and he’ll be quiznaked if doesn’t give Keith the same comfort.

Taking courage from their memory, he turns the knob, hands sweaty under his gloves.

The hospital room is more cheerful than he remembers them being, painted in a beautiful light orange. Vases full of floral arrangements both Earthly and alien crowd the tables and chairs. Coran’s heart twinges. There’s been no visitors lately, only mailed in well wishes.

A nurse with familiar auburn hair leans over the single bed, and upon his entry rises to greet him with a smile. “Good evening, Uncle Coran. Welcome back to the Garrison.”

Coran nods politely, a smile pushing up on his face. “A pleasure to see you again, Samantha. How are classes going?”

She beams at him. “Aced my last set of tests. I’ll be a doctor before you know it.”

Coran whistles. That soon? Just yesterday it seemed she’d graduated from secondary school. “She’d be proud of you, all of you kids,” he tells her.

Her face glows with the praise, a light flush around her cheeks. Quiznak, she’s the spitting image of her great-great-grandmother.

He misses Pidge so much. And Hunk and Shiro and Lance.

And Allura still.

Her gaze wanders briefly to the bed. “He’s just napping, but you can stay with him until he wakes. He’ll be delighted to see you.”

“Thank you, my dear,” he says, taking her hands in his and giving them a gentle pat. “Give your parents a fond hello for me.”

She gives him a kiss on the cheek and his mustache tingles with joy. He gives her familial hug before she leaves the room.

With great care he sets the flowers aside to sit on the chair at the bed.

Coran’s heart is at ease as he watches Keith sleep peacefully. The man has outlived his fellow Paladins thanks to his Galra heritage, but his white hair, thin arms, and wrinkles are all so human. Time has helped, but it’s still hard on his heart to see the young man he met and nurtured, so full of life, bound to bed at the end of it.

To be the last has been a burden on him, one that Coran must soon carry.

Keith’s eyes lift slowly, but smiles. “Hey Coran,” he says softly. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Coran pats his arm, careful of the IV keeping him hydrated. “I came as soon as I could, my boy. How are you feeling?”

Keith cracks a wry smile. “Been better,” he quips. “How’s Altea?”

“Getting along just fine without me,” Coran jokes back. He hasn’t done much governance lately, a task for the younger generation now.

Keith nods slowly, his eyes focusing on a point on the far wall. “I’m tired, Coran. I thought I’d go out fighting.” He chuckles, smile fond. “I still hear Shiro’s voice telling me to be patient.”

“I think of them too,” Coran tells him. He files them in the same category as Alfor and the original Paladins now, to be remembered for the vitality and joy brought to his life and the lives of all who knew them. “Allura could have used that advice back in the day, she was quite vivacious as a child. I can’t count the times I had to lure her to the duflax pond or juniberry fields while Alfor worked - she wanted so much to help him.”

Keith laughs, an easy one that was so hard to come by when they first met. “She did that and more,” he says sincerely.

Quiznak, he can’t cry yet. “She did,” he agrees as his eyes scrunch shut, holding back the tears.

A hand rests lightly on his. The simple action leaves Keith near breathless, his chest rising and falling heavily. “I want you to do it,” he rasps.

Coran can’t stop the light gasp that escapes his lips. He knows exactly what Keith speaks of, but, “It’s a fantastic dream, Keith. We barely had a chance with all of us, I can’t finish on my own.”

“Lance finished it,” Keith says quickly.

Coran’s eyes threaten to bulge out of their sockets. Lance had been no idiot, but to finish what they’d been working on…

“He learned a lot more from Hunk and Pidge than he let on,” Keith continues. “He applied some old movie logic and it worked, Coran. We used it on a toy. It was the last thing he did before he...”

Died.

Coran remembers the funeral well; family and friends around the open casket while the universe outside mourned. His gifted Altean markings glow too brightly for the naked eye and when they look back, his body is gone.

There’s no wondering where he’s gone. His name is carved at the base of the statue of Allura on Altea, underneath Pidge’s and Hunk’s and Shiro’s - where Keith’s will join them one day.

Coran’s heat thumps with hope. What was once throwaway gibberish from Slav turned into Pidge’s offhanded theorizing and Hunk’s idle tinkering. A chance grew - not just to correct mistakes but to give her a chance, a chance to enjoy the fruits of her labor.

“Time travel is a dangerous beast, Keith. Can is one thing… but should we do it?”

Keith exhales and relaxes into his pillow. He closes his eyes for a long moment. When they open, Coran can tell he’s decided.

“If there’s a chance, we should take it. Please, Coran. Do it for her. Let her live a full life with us. Make sure everyone gets a happy ending.”

Keith coughs, his body lurching forward, the machine monitoring his heart rate going wild at the sudden movement. Coran steadies him, holds him close until he’s finished.

“Do you have everything in order?” Coran asks as he helps Keith back to his resting position.

Keith catches his breath before responding. “Yorak has the blade, you have the key to the lab. I don’t have anything else to take care of.”

Coran nods and takes the man’s hand, squeezing it tight as the intervals between beeps on the monitor become longer.

Keith squeezes back, tears in his eyes. “Thank you for being here. I miss… I miss the team… I miss Mom… and I miss Dad…”

“You’ll be with them soon,” Coran chokes. His own tears filter his vision. Another dozen deca-feebs or so and Coran can start to contemplate when he’ll join them. “I know they’d be so pleased with everything you’ve done in their stead.”

Keith closes his eyes and smiles. “Dad…”

The monitor flatlines, a term Coran has come to despise. He cries, arms trembling as he holds Keith’s hand tight. “Rest easy, Keith.”

Samantha and others come in, but Coran does not move a muscle as they remove the equipment and pay their own respects.

It’s truly the end of an era

~~~~~~

Keith didn’t want pomp and circumstance. Surviving relatives of the Paladins visit while television stations run biopics on all the former Paladins day and night, back to back.

When they close the casket for the last time, Coran doesn’t miss a bright white glow from between the cracks. Coran relaxes. Keith is in good hands now.

After the funeral, Coran finds the strength to enter the lab. It’s mostly unused since Pidge passed on, but one corner clearly has seen more traffic than others.

Coran takes the cut of Balmeran crystal from his pocket, a gift from Shiro.

She’d want you to have it. Don’t mourn me forever, I’ve made the most of my borrowed time.

A platform unfurls, the design lovingly based off of the IGF-Atlas. He places the crystal on the place made specifically for it.

The machine hums to life and Coran takes a moment to glide his hand along the surface of the pod. It looks so much like Castle’s ships and it triggers his nostalgia for Pop-Pop and the days where he traveled with Alfor across the galaxy, and then the universe with Allura.

There’s only room for one, and the trip is one-way.

The young ones of the generation remember Voltron only in the stories of their grandparents, or parents for longer lived species. Alteans do not live as long as they used to.

The universe no longer has a place for him.

It’s time to do something good.

Coran enters the date they’d calculated so long ago, the point where he can enter their lives early without shorting out the machine. He settles himself into the chair and closes the chamber.

It will be too late for Altea and much of the universe.

But enough time to make things right for the Paladins - for Allura.

~~~~~~

The machine does as it’s supposed to. The lab fades away and leaves Coran with a view of the desert outside of Plaht City, the sun setting on what has been a very somber day.

Sparks fly within the machine and Coran jumps out moments before it explodes, engine fried from the trip - as theorized.

Coran gets up and dusts himself off. He can’t introduce himself without looking his very best after all!

Carefully he removes the now blackened Balmeran crystal from its place. It falls to dust in his hands.

Despite knowing this exact thing was going to happen, Coran falls to his knees on the desert sand and mourns. Its an object, he knows, even though it was a gift of the Balmera, but it's his last link to the past.

So eventually, when he’s given himself time, he takes a small vial from his coat pocket and reverently deposits the black dust into it. If Coran wishes to see it in its pristine form, he must see it on Allura’s circlet.

A timeline where she lives. He has his mission. For the universe, for the team, for Alfor.

Somewhere out there the Blue Lion waits patiently for Lance, a meeting that will not take place for another several years. Coran’s destination is the two story house that looms in the near distance.

A woman answers the door - and his breath is taken away. The long lonely week feels far away as he takes in the most beautiful curly red hair he’s ever seen - even his own! He gapes, barely taking in her frazzled and tired eyes. She looks at him as if he’s Voltron itself.

“Oh thank heavens you’re here,” she breathes. Her lips too are a pleasant shade of red akin to the second sunset of Altean equinox-- “Mr… ?”

“Smythe,” Coran says blankly before shaking his head, breaking himself out of a stupor to shake her hand. “Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe at your service.” He chuckles nervously, flicking his round ear. Humans were so strange. “What seems to be the hullabaloo?”

“The boy won’t talk. He keeps himself locked up in his room. He has a knife! Who gives a knife to an eight-year-old?” The woman breathes heavily, near panic. “I was just about to call the police.”

Coran takes her hand in his, gently as if they were delicate juniberry petals. “Fret no more, my lady. I’ll take care of everything,” he says with a wink.

And he means it. At the risk of changing too much of the future, Coran has decided on one variable.

The woman blushes and Coran’s pride swells. He’s still got it. And Lance called himself the smooth one.

(Number Three never did get to Coran’s level of ‘game’, though he tried his best to mentor the Paladin.)

She leaves in relief after making him sign some paperwork. He has half a mind to ask her to stay… but he has a job to do. Coran climbs the stairs and leans up against the only closed door. There’s sobbing on the other side.

“It’s a bit late for a growing boy to be up, hm?” He airs.

“Go away! Leave me alone!”

Coran smiles at hearing the young, but familiar voice again. Inside his heart breaks at how angry, upset, and alone he sounds.

“I don’t have the slipperies at the moment, so I’m afraid I’m staying put, my boy. Are you hungry?”

Tiny feet scamper further from the door. “No!” Keith says, inflection full of anger and tears.

It’s been a very long time since Coran has dealt with a stubborn Keith and even longer since he’s cared for children. Allura always reacted well to a distraction though, once Coran found a suitable topic for rambling. He’ll just have to do the same for Keith.

“I hear you have a very special knife,” he begins. “I’d very much like to see it if you’d let me.”

An almost feral growl permeates through the drywall. Humans wouldn’t recognize it as anything more than primal, but it is most definitely a Galra cry for assistance. He’s heard Zarkon’s more times than he can count - mostly due to Alfor’s reckless tendencies. Coran can barely make out the dialect, but it’s definitely the cry the Blade of Marmora has settled into over the years.

Though he doesn’t know it, Keith remembers Krolia’s voice.

“So you can try and take it away from me too?” Keith spits.

“Not at all,” Coran assures him. “I’m a bit of a connoisseur of weaponry, actually. I could show you a thing or two about your knife. Anyone so protective over their blade is deserving of some tricks of the trade, wouldn’t you say?”

Keith doesn’t speak right away - he doesn’t need to. He steps lightly to the door, and opens it ever so slightly. His violet-tinted eyes watch Coran with caution.

“Are you telling the truth?” the boy asks with, for the first time, hope.

Coran doesn’t plan to disappoint. He kneels and meets his gaze.

“I was knife-throwing champion of the Castle for twelve deca-feebs straight!” he declares proudly. “You’d be hard pressed to find anyone on this planet who knows more than I.

Keith’s brows furrow in confusion and Coran can practically see the wheels turning in his mind, none of them hostile. Perhaps he’s given the boy a little more to unpack than necessary.

“What’s a... deca-feeb?” Keith finally asks.

“A measurement of time for students of the Blade!” Coran winks, leaning in as if making a fine deal in the Unilu black market. “I’ll be able to teach you all that and more. Mind if I come in?”

Keith stares for a long moment before unhooking a chain and opening the door wide enough for Coran to enter. It’s his bedroom. Pictures of Earth-ships hang on the walls and toys lay scattered across the floor. Keith scrambles onto his bed, holding Krolia’s blade close - the business end blessedly wrapped up. A picture of him and his father lies on the disheveled sheets next to him.

Coran’s heart breaks, and is reminded of his mission.

“Thank you, my boy. Mind if I have a seat?”

Keith shakes his head, but doesn’t move.

Coran sits at the edge of the bed, a respectable distance away. “May I see it?”

Keith holds it out to show him, slowly, with an edge about him that still doesn’t quite trust. Coran makes no move to take the blade, and gives it a look over. It’s remarkably well preserved. Krolia must have given Keith’s father the correct care instructions for luxite.

He hums for a good while, though he already knows what to say. “It’s a fine piece of work, perhaps the best craftsmanship I’ve ever seen!” he declares. “It must have belonged to someone very special.”

Keith hardly seems to know what to do with the blade still in his hands. He examines it thoughtfully with the new information. “My Mom. Dad said that I have to take care of it until I can give it back to her.”

“Your mother was an excellent swordswoman then. It’s a rare gift, she must have loved you very much to entrust you with her prized blade.”

Keith holds it close to his chest and looks Coran in the eye. “Is she coming back? I want to go where she is.”

Coran dares to rest a comforting hand on Keith’s back. “Your mother is in a very dangerous place right now, Keith. She wants very much to see you, but you’d be in great danger if she did.”

His eyes widen, but to Coran’s relief he does not flinch away. He’s gaining trust.

“She’s in trouble?”

“Not right this tick, no,” Coran assures him. “But there are very bad people who would hurt her if they knew where you were.”

“Oh,” Keith says, lowering his head, crestfallen. He sniffs. “I want my dad…”

“I’m sorry about your father,” he begins somberly. “He was a good man. He’ll be remembered fondly.”

The boy’s body shakes, eyes clenched shut. “I don’t want to remember him, I want him here.”

Coran tries not to feel guilt. If only he’d had the power to add just one day to his trip Keith could have grown up with his father. Happy, healthy, and prepared.

Coran can prepare him, keep him healthy, and do his very best to make him happy. Most importantly, he can assure Keith that his mother is out there, and that she loves him.

“I know, Keith,” he says softly. “Everything is going to be fine. I promise.”

Maybe it’s because he says it with conviction, like Keith himself in his best of times leading Voltron or the Blade of Marmora, or just the blind trust of a child with whom he’s started a connection with - a re-connection, but the young boy beside him curls into his side and cries.

Coran wraps his arms around him protectively, stroking his back in comfort, and lets Keith mourn.

This time will be better. For Keith and for Allura.

~~~~~

“Who needs pee-butter and jeyl-lo when you can have…” Coran whisks out a napkin, tying it around Keith’s neck. “A classic Paladin lunch!”

Coran sets the loaded plate on the table with flourish, directly in front of a wary Keith. After finally admitting to being hungry, Keith allowed Coran to lead him to the kitchen and cook for him.

After decades of exposure to Hunk’s cooking, Coran is familiar enough with Earth cuisine - but none of it is as decadent as Altean. Keith’s cupboards turn out to be painfully bare of anything he’s used to, but after a taste test or five Coran is able to scrounge together most of the ingredients for the classic Paladin lunch.

Keith's nose scrunches in distaste. "Is it... safe?" he asks.

Coran huffs. It's a good thing he's introducing Keith to his cooking early. "Of course it's safe," he insists. He's using all human food, how could it not be safe? "If it was good enough for King Alfor, it's good enough for young Paladins."

The boy gives him a funny look, confusion etched into his features. He wants to ask who King Alfor is - wants to ask what a Paladin is - it's an expression Coran is all too used to seeing from older Keith during meetings and explanations of long extinct civilizations and their politics. But he doesn't, instead choosing to interest himself in the Paladin lunch.

His small stomach rumbles and Keith gulps in apprehension as he collects as spoonful and inserts it into his mouth.

Green Paladin Keith is not, and Coran is fairly certain humans can't turn green either - not like he can.

Keith swallows thickly, and with tears in his eyes practically inhales his glass of water.

Coran waits with bated breath. "Well, what do you think?"

"It tastes like dirty socks," Keith says, sticking out his tongue.

Relief fills him, and he sighs, resting a hand over his heart. "Good. That's an improvement over the sewage canals of Thravia-4." Or, that's how Lance had described it once. He gives Keith a reassuring smile and a pat on the back. "It gets a bit better once you get to the middle bits!"

"...I don't think I'm hungry anymore," Keith says simply, pushing the platter towards the middle of the table.

Coran sighs. He had years still to get Keith on his side. "It's been a long day, my boy. I think you could use a bath and a good sleep."

This lowers his spirits, eyes downcast. "...I miss Dad," Keith says suddenly, a hiccup in his voice. "He gave me a bath and I had sand in my hair and - and - "

Keith tries to hold back his tears. Coran swiftly drags a chair with one hand over and sits on it next to Keith. He gently places a hand on his back.

"Tears are nothing to be afraid of, Keith," he says. "It is how we show love and grief. You will never stop loving your father, missing him is nothing to be ashamed of."

His stomach takes the brunt of the hit from Keith's tiny head, the boy's arms just able to reach around his waist in a hug. Coran wraps his arms around him, anchoring the boy's trembling, sobbing figure.

"It will always hurt," Coran continues, "losing loved ones."

Melenor. Alfor. Gyrgan. Trigel. Blaytz.

"No matter how long or short your time is with them."

Allura.

"But we are the keepers of their memories, the lives we shared with them are stories we can pass on to others."

Hunk. Pidge. Shiro. Lance.

"So they will always be with us."

Keith.

"Miss him and mourn his loss. I'll be here as long as you need me."

"I don’t want to, I want him here," Keith chokes out.

Coran holds him closer. The Keith he knew never received this kind of attention. Coran is determined to make sure he does now.

“You can want all you’d like, Keith, but we still must live our lives. Stay here as long as you like," he reassures. "Then that bath and bed, hm? I think that’s what your father would want."

Keith sniffs, his voice muffled in Coran's shirt, but no less hopeful. "...Then t-tomorrow you'll teach me how to use my knife, right?"

Coran can do one better than that. He can give Keith a history lesson he normally wouldn't learn for another fifteen deca-feebs and he can do it tonight. A lesson about the Blades and of the Galra and of what to expect - things that his mother really should have taught him, but knowledge that will be crucial for his early years in space

"That and more, Keith." He hopes Krolia won't be too angry with him when they meet again.

~~~~~

"You're a brave, kind man Mr. Smythe," the judge says. "We're glad to have you at the agency."

Coran tips his new hat to her and pats Keith's mop of hair. The boy clings to his pants as if he expects to be separated at any tick. He is doubly thankful for the foresight to bring his papers back to the past; without the knowledge of other beings, humans will see exactly what they need to see on his files. In this case, the fact that he's already working with the foster care unit.

And that's enough now that he can adopt Keith. He'll be able to relax for the next ten Earth-years.

"I'm just doing what I can. Need to settle down after that last assignment, and Keith here seems in need of a helping hand."

She shakes his hand. "The paperwork should be nearly done..."

The courtroom doors burst open and - Coran’s jaw drops, his heart pounds in his ears. Gorgeous red hair, nearly orange in the halogen lights. Coran holds a hand over his chest as if it will slow his racing heart - he can’t believe she’s here again, the same woman he met at Keith's house the day he arrived in the past. She holds a bundle of papers in her hands. "Sorry I'm late - it took forever to find Keith's birth records. They were at the Galaxy Garrison hospital."

Keith clutches him tighter.

Coran laughs it off. Of course Krolia wouldn't have gone to the Plaht City hospital.

"I'm not terribly surprised, eh Keith," he nudges the boy. "After all the house is much closer by hover bike to the Garrison than the city. A stroke of genius of you to look there in the first place," he tells her with a wink.

Her cheeks flush at the praise and hands the papers over to the judge before tucking a curl of brilliant red hair behind her ear. "Of course, I'm glad to help Mr. Smythe. You've been a great help with Keith."

"Call me Coran," he winks. "We're hardly strangers."

"Synthia!" she proclaims as she shakes his hand. "A pleasure to actually meet you properly, Coran. If you need anything at work, here's my personal number." She smiles brightly at him, a love struck look in her eyes that pulls on his heartstrings.

He takes the card and twirls his mustache. "Perhaps I'll give you a ring and we can discuss work over a cup of tea? What do you think, Keith?"

Keith sticks his tongue out. "I don't like tea."

Coran pats him on the back. Keith never did acquire the taste. "That's quite all right, you won't have to join us if you don't want to." He turns back to Synthia. "Perhaps during the school day sometime?"

"I would be delighted," she beams.

A smug feeling wells up in his chest. He's absolutely still got it.

Perhaps he'll enjoy himself in the past more than he thought.

~~~~~

“Make sure you pack a jacket!” Synthia says as she shoves one into his chest. “The desert gets cold at night - surely you learned what while you were stationed in Australia?”

Coran sniffs the jacket with a raised eyebrow. A recent purchase from a local ‘thrifty shop’, it smells of smoke - and not that of a campfire. He attempts to hand it back, but her emerald eyes sparkle with concern.

With a heavy sigh he puts it on, if only to ease her fears. It takes only a tick to shift his internal organs into a Yorlanian - a people who adapted long ago to naturally deal with temperature gradients far more severe than that of Earth.

How is she to know that? He’s Coran the human here, and he won’t be Coran the Altean for another fifteen years.

A deep breath soothes the ache in his chest at that thought. Fifteen years is nothing compared to ten thousand asleep in a cryopod.

“As you wish, my lady,” he bows, earning a delighted blush from his target - enough to hopefully take her mind off his long pause. “Although, it could certainly use a wash…”

“There’s a washing basin at the park you can use.”

Coran whips around, and there’s Keith at the bottom of the stairs, having descended so silently he hadn’t even heard. He’s dressed for the trip, hiking boots and a red jacket over a worn t-shirt. A backpack sits firmly on his shoulders, his knuckles white as he holds the straps.

He's better; not that he ever will be completely fine, nor should he. Krolia often said she saw much of his father in Keith - brave, selfless, kind, helpful, so Coran knows he hurts.

Hopefully this trip will be healing for him.

"Ah, well fortune is with us then!" Coran says cheerfully. He turns to Synthia. "Perhaps you and I could take a trip into the wilderness sometime."

Synthia clasps her fingers over her mouth, a delighted giggle escapes her. "That would be wonderful. I haven't spent a night under the stars since I was a scout camping with my troop." She sighs longingly. "I miss the fresh air."

Keith raises an eyebrow. "You were in the scouts?"

She huffs, hands on her hips. "Of course I was! Granted it was when dinosaurs roamed the Earth," she says with a wink and a laugh.

This gets a crack of a smile from Keith. "You're not that old."

"Old enough to remember Plaht City before the Galaxy Garrison!" She pinches his cheek, and while Keith tries to pull away, he's grinning the whole time. "You boys have your bonding. Come back with some woodwork - Coran says he's been teaching you how to use that knife of yours properly?"

Amazing how a simple blanket phrase 'teaching Keith to use the blade' could mean both woodworking and how to dismantle a Galra sentry in the same breath. Coran chuckles nervously, faking a wide smile. At least it meant Synthia and Keith got along.

"Come on, Coran," Keith says, grabbing his hand. "The park closes at dusk and we have to get the tent set up before then!"

Coran allows himself to be dragged along by a pint sized Number Four (or was he Number Five right now? He needs to see how the other Paladins are faring without interfering)

"I await our next meeting with bated breath!" he calls out as he hobbles out the door.

Synthia waves. "The house will be in good hands while you're gone! Bring back some good pictures of animals or--" her eyes dart around, looking around for anyone else who might be listening "-- aliens. You know what they say about the desert at night."

Coran doesn't have the heart nor the time to tell her.

~~~~~

Coran has the jacket packed away, far from their campsite.

It's just him and a small Keith, no one else for miles. Their fire dwindles, creating a faint glow against their two person tent. The two of them lay on the gravelly ground, comforted only by their sleeping bags, and stare at the stars.

The constellations are different here, but it's nice to see consistent shapes in the stars rather than constantly changing ones as they're on the run from Zarkon.

Another time.

"That one is Andromeda," Keith says, his arm and finger pointed up at the sky. "But I always look for Orion when Dad and I came out here."

...Shiro told him this one, but he can't remember for the life of him. "Ah," he starts, a bead of sweat running down his temple in embarrassment. "And why would that be?" he asks, saving the embarrassment of not knowing Earth constellations.

"He's got a sword. It's cool." His face droops, eyes on his feet. "And, I think about Mom." Dark eyes meet his, and when Keith speaks of his mother and the stars they glow with a beautiful purple - the only clue anyone will ever have that Keith is not entirely of Earth.

"Do you think that's where she is?" he asks earnestly. "On Orion?"

Coran hums as he thinks about where Ranveig's base is located in respect to Earth. "Actually, I think she might be closer to that Big Dipper." That one he remembers. Earth would name their stars after a ladle.

Keith grins. "Then I'll be able to find her one day if I follow the North Star?"

"I'm positive you'll find her one day, Keith. I know she wants nothing more than to be with you again."

The change in mood is complete. Keith's eyes shine with hope and belonging; he holds his blade close, the hilt wrapped in cloth to hide the Blade of Marmora symbol. "I can't wait."

But he'll have to wait many years before that happens and go through many dangers. In the meantime, Coran’s job is to prepare him for them. "Tomorrow we'll start getting you ready. Synthia is right, you'll have to learn to use that properly."

Keith rolls onto his side, facing Coran. "Are you always going to make kissy faces with her?"

Coran gapes. "Kis-kissy faces?" he repeats indignantly. "We have a far more sophisticated relationship than that!"

A tiny nose scrunches in disbelief. "You act like it. She's not mom though, and you're not dad; you promised."

"Indeed! Coran will suffice, or Coran the Gorgeous Man if you're so inclined. I'm sure Synthia would be quite happy if you just called her by her name."

For as long as she was in his life anyway. Did he have time for a relationship when his entire reason for being here was to give Keith a better childhood? He wraps his hands around the vial filled with the remains of Allura’s balmeran crystal - he’s attached it to a string, a necklace to make sure its with him at all times.

Allura - and Alfor for that matter - would have told him to enjoy himself.

Keith smiles and closes his eyes. "Thanks for taking me here, Coran. It feels like Dad is still here."

Perhaps he's already done most of the work. Now comes the fun part.

"Get a good night's sleep, Keith," he says, relaxing his hands behind his head. "Tomorrow I'll teach you everything about blades, the Paladin code, and how to extract scaltrite from a weblum."

"... a... a weblam?"

"We'll work on it."

~~~~~

"Coran, check this out!"

Keith rams through the door like a rampaging klanmuirel, holding his Marmora blade up high for all to see. He doesn't bother putting his backpack down, or even taking off his shoes - that'll be even more to clean later! Oh how Coran misses the Castle's automated cleaning systems. Two Earth-years has been nearly undoable. How is he to survive another eight?

Before Coran can say anything, Keith flips the knife up in the air and, in one heart-stopping moment, is about to catch it with the unwrapped blade in his hands.

"Keith!" Coran leaps forward, digging deep in his old age to catch the blade before Keith cuts up his hand. He takes advantage of his Altean gifts and stretches his arms to grab it by the hilt, flipping onto his back as he lands on the floor the opposite side of Keith.

The boy himself has a loose jaw. "Woah," Keith says. "How did you do that?" He seems to blink away his wonder, driving into anger. "Why did you do that? I totally have that trick down!"

Coran stands and hands Keith back his blade hilt first. "You'd have ended up with a nasty cut otherwise," he scolds. Yet at the same time, he feels some pride in Keith showing him his progress. "You’re under rotating."

Keith frowns. "Oh." He fidgets. "Thanks, Coran. You're the only adult who understands."

"Oh, I can't be the only one," Coran says - though he knows Keith tells the truth in more ways than one. "What about Ms. Norris? She's a brilliant lady."

“She’s my teacher,” Keith replies glumly, averting his eyes in distaste. “Last time she found out I had a knife she called the police, remember?”

Coran winces. “Er, yes, that is true. Perhaps you should stop taking it to school. It’s very safe to leave here at home.”

“I can’t!” Keith protests. “What if Mom comes back and she needs this? Or the bad guys find this place and I need to keep it hidden? I can’t risk it!”

The determination is admirable, and on any other reasonable planet that’s made contact there would be no problem with allowing Keith to keep a family heirloom - no matter how sharp - on his person even as a child. But this is Earth, who still believe the creatures who live on Mars are green or grey with large black eyes.

(They’re actually closer kin with Pidge’s trash nebula friends.

“Keith, listen,” Coran says as he kneels and places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I swear by Grogory’s beard your blade will be safe with me while you’re at school.”

Keith’s lips curl in, showing his upset face. “But Mom--”

“Wants you to be safe. You aren’t if you get in trouble with school. Promise you’ll keep it at home until the time is right?” Because Keith will need it one day.

Gaze dropping to the ground, Keith sighs. “Okay,” he relents.

Coran isn’t quite ready to believe him. “Promise with your pinky,” he insists.

Keith rolls his eyes. With pride, Coran watches as he creates the Altean royal symbol in the air with his smallest finger; the most serious of oaths.

“Thank you, Keith. That was very big of you. I’m sure you’ll have far less problems now at school.”

~~~~~

The silence in the car is deafening.

Treading down the dirt road, the hum of the (woefully inefficient) engine and tires kicking up gravel seems all the sound in the universe. It’s remarkably similar to the coming of age parties back on Novenia --

Keith huffs loudly from the passenger seat, looking sourly out the window and arms crossed for extra measure. Though his posture is closed off, the huff is Keith speak for ‘I want to talk’.

They have much to speak of.

Coran stretches his fingers and taps them over the steering wheel, looking for the right words. He tentatively gives Keith a side eye and winces even as he speaks with a nervous laughter, “I know you’re wanting to enroll at the Galaxy Garrison soon, but I thought you were interested in space ships, not cars.”

“He stole a Galaxy Garrison vehicle from an officer!”

This is a teaching moment, another chance to cement in Keith that there are people on his side and that love him - but they must talk about it. There’s a silver lining to this incident, one that aches his heart.

“It’s no trouble, Mr. Smythe. I think all Keith needs is a second chance. I’ll chat with him. Bring him by the Garrison tomorrow and ask for ‘Shiro’.”

He hadn’t been able to keep himself from crying as he spoke with Shiro (on the phone, not a video call) - seeing the young man (ever so briefly when picking up Keith, and making sure he wasn’t seen) before Galra captivity changed him. He’s the same, still kind and brave.

Coran can’t find the will to caution him about Kerberos. He’s not supposed to know, and what’s more Coran knows what the mission means to him personally - a dream, a way to prove everyone wrong about his capability.

But it only makes inaction hurt more.

If history is doomed to repeat itself, Coran only hopes it changes in the way that matters in the end. For Allura. For Keith to have comfort through the worst years of his life.

“...Ms. Burnt said I was a liar. She said I wouldn’t do well at the Garrison,” Keith admits softly. His clenched fists tell of the anger hidden just under his skin.

Coran knows why Keith’s teachers say as much. It sends a wave of guilt up his chest; perhaps he’s not been a father figure to the best of his ability; too many stories of space and what he’ll see out there. Keith still found the same schoolyard fights as in the original timeline.

“I have a hard time believing that,” Coran says with a bright chuckle. “You’re a very intelligent young man.”

Keith scowls. “It’s not my grades. The other kids… they don’t believe Mom is fighting bad guys, and that’s why she can’t come home and... ”

Ah here it comes. The other kids pick on him for not having his parents around, his mother having left. Though he’s told Keith a liquefied version of why Krolia can’t be here, it hasn’t made Keith miss her less, or given the other children or even adults reason to believe him.

His eyes flicker in Coran’s direction for hardly a tick, laced with sympathy. “They don’t understand you.”

Coran’s eyes widen and turns to Keith in disbelief. “What the quiznak?”

A car horn honks and Coran barely swerves the car out of the way of an oncoming vehicle. They roll off the side and into the desert, stopping just shy of a very worried looking cactus.

Keith’s classmates are making fun of him?

“Um,” Keith begins warily, his hands clenched around his seat belt, “sorry?”

Well, at least he doesn’t look like a - what was that expression that looked like the bi-boh-bi? Ah yes; a ‘wet noodle’.

But still, why him? He can’t stop Keith from regaling his classmates about his mother’s adventures fighting Zarkon - from what he remembers of them anyway. Keith has been in trouble with that before.

“Well, no offense Coran, but you’re a little… weird,” Keith confesses.

His heart stops; the world turns to dust around him. Coran feels as if he’s transported out of the car to a world of pitch black, a single spotlight on his heartbroken form.

“I’m… I’m not cool?” he manages to gasp. He’s only ever done everything awesome and hip - keeping up with all the trends!

Keith’s eyes light up with worry, shifting in his seat to face him. “I think you’re the best!” he says. “The kids don’t know what they’re talking about! Weblums are real - and so are aliens - they can’t prove otherwise! Mom’s trying to keep them away from here, right? So of course we don’t know about them!”

This isn’t the first time Coran just wants to tell Keith everything - that he’s from the future and in less than four years he’ll meet a different version of himself and he’s half alien and there’s a war out there and he’s going to be a Paladin of Voltron and please do everything in your power to save Allura.

But he’s changed enough by telling Keith stories of weblums and Altean fairytales, by just knowing his face. He’ll have to apologize to his younger self if it comes to that - there are sure to be fireworks when they meet and Sendak will still be on their tail.

Still, Keith’s enthusiasm warms his heart. For now, keep things on track. Shiro will help him get through the Galaxy Garrison just like before. This time though, Coran hopes he’ll make a few friends.

A few specific friends, that is.

~~~~~~~~

“There,” Coran says. He kneels before Keith, putting a finishing polish on Keith’s Galaxy Garrison lapel. “You look smart and dashing.”

The uniform looks good on him, even though he’s not yet grown into it. Coran imagines it in red, like he’s used to seeing on Keith.

It feels like the beginning of the end.

Keith shifts uncomfortably. “Coran, I’m not sure if I want to go back.”

“What? Quiznak, Keith, whatever for? This is all you’ve been talking about since you were yeh-high!” Coran exclaims, holding his hand above the floor barely to Keith’s knees.

At least he gets a laugh out of Keith. “I was not that little,” he protests lightly.

“Well you sure seemed that way to me,” Coran huffs before knitting his eyebrows together in concern. “Why the change of heart?”

Keith sighs, looking away and down. “The other kids are just like in school… some of them are even from my class. James has them all turned on me.”

Coran’s shoulder slump. That had only been orientation!

“I know it’s difficult, Keith, but I’m sure there are some kids who would be glad to be your friend. What about Shiro’s friend, Matt?” he waggles his eyebrows. “Doesn’t he have a younger sister?”

Keith’s eyes go wide. “Katie?” His face scrunches in disgust. “No - I - I don’t want to date anyone!”

Coran knows he shouldn’t laugh, but he does. “I never said anything of the sort. She’s closer to your age though. Perhaps she’d like to be your friend.”

Keith clearly isn’t convinced. Coran grins. It’s only a matter of time.

~~~~

“I made top pilot in my class again,” Keith says with a broad grin.

Coran stirs his tea and sits down at the table, where the video phone shows Keith’s proud face. He looks so young and innocent- but he wears the Garrison colors and every year he looks more and more like the Keith Coran remembers waking up to.

“Well done! I told you that you’d do it again! One more year and you’ll have all five eh?”

“That’s right,” Keith says, though he looks away sheepishly. “The only one who’s ever done that is… Shiro.”

Coran’s gut twists unpleasantly hearing the name of the man who will be leaving on the ill-fated Kerberos mission in less than a week.

Then Coran has one year. One year to say the right things.

“Then you’re in good company. We’ll celebrate with ice cream when you come home for break yes?”

Keith shifts uncomfortably. “Actually, Shiro’s invited me to stay for the launch, if that’s okay… I won’t see him again for a long time.”

Oh he has no idea.

“Ugh,” Coran moans, clutching his heart in fake agony. “Such is the cruelty of teenieboppers.”

Keith looks nervously to each side. “Teenagers,” he corrects. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Spend time with your friends, Keith. I’ve had ten glorious years watching you grow up.”

Keith smiles tenderly, “our families are all invited for dinner. You’re welcome to come. The Holts are coming too.”

“Oh I’m quite fine here,” Coran assures him. Although he misses Sam and their friendship, he isn’t sure he can look at the man in the eye any more than Shiro. “Have some fun. I’ll be right here when you need me.”

~~~

That time is four months later when without a phone call of warning, Keith comes crashing through the front door and falls to his knees with tears in his eyes.

Coran hugs him tighter than a yelmore grip and cries too without so much as a word exchanged between them.

~~~~~~

“I’m not going back,” Keith says when he comes down for breakfast the next morning. Coran barely stops himself from gasping, for Keith wears the same clothing that he brings to space one year from now.

“What will you do?” he asks with no judgement.

He already knows.

“I’ve always had this weird feeling when I’m out here,” he begins. “I never noticed it until I started school at the Garrison and it wasn’t as strong as when I come home for break.” He lifts his eyes, they shine with an alien purple glint, determined. “I think it wants me to find it.”

Coran nods. “I’ll help you.”

~~~~

It doesn’t take long for the house to fill with papers and corkboard. Keith writes math equations in his journal and Coran corrects them by asking pointed questions. The calculus is beyond what Earth teaches at universities, but it’s elementary for an Altean.

He finds the cave of the Blue Lion. Coran aches but comes with Keith anyway. He’s purposefully not come out here; it’s too painful a reminder of what is to come - of what he hopes will turn into a happy ending. He thinks the Blue Lions knows, too, Coran’s true purpose. The Lions were always smarter than they seem, even when Alfor was molding them.

He can’t help himself; while Keith takes pictures and mutters about what all this might mean in relation to him, Coran lays a shaking hand over an image of the creation of all five Lions. A single figure glows blue, a man set away from the five original Paladins and Allura.

The Blue Lion seems to know exactly who he is.

It’s strange even now to realize he was there in this event depicted by carvings over ten thousand years old.

The thought is just as sobering now as it was when he first woke from the cryopod.

“What do you think all this is, Coran?” Keith wonders from another wall. “What’s calling me is definitely here but… I don’t understand what it is.”

Coran pulls a thumb over the young woman in the creation picture. He closes his eyes. “You will one day,” he promises.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Coran,” Keith says softly, with relief.

~~~~~

“I think I’m stuck.”

Keith sits on the edge of the couch, hunched over and elbows on his knees as he reads the papers on the table. He has taken over the living room with his sketches and calculations. “Something is coming on December 14 and I have no idea what it is.” He sighs deeply. “I’m not even sure if my math is right.”

Coran sets down his book; Synthia will want to know what he thinks of it as soon as possible, but his priority is to help Keith. He is perfectly capable of telling Keith that his math is flawless - as Coran has taught him - but there is a better way.

“Why don’t you ask Katie?” Number Three will surely take up the task seeing as how she’s already decided to go undercover at the Galaxy Garrison in the next school year (only weeks away now).

Keith looks up, conflict in his eyes. “I couldn’t. She lost her father and her brother on the mission. Shiro was just a friend, it’s not the same.”

Coran looks at him sternly. Not sharing the same blood did not make them any less family, not between Shiro and Keith and not between any of the Paladins. “And I am a cooked duflax then?” Coran teases. At Keith’s horrified shake of the head, he continues, “Katie is hurting. You are hurting. You two should be supporting each other, not isolating yourselves. Family is family; blood or not.”

Keith smiles. “Maybe I’ll give her a call.”

~~~~~

“You hammered it, Synthia! It was the butler the entire time!”

Coran speaks excitedly into the video phone. Synthia on the other side, holding up the latest crime novel they’ve finished together.

“But you predicted the method!” she says, bending her knee and clasping her face with excitement. She’s curled her gorgeous red hair these days and it bounces around her face like a skipping xalax. Coran sighs longingly, placing his elbows on the table and setting his cheek in his palm - she looks even more radiant than the night they first met.

“I mean, to use the ink from the old printer to create the poison in the paint, knowing there would be a dare to drink it? It’s brilliant! How did you guess?”

“Oh, it was as easy as pi! If you remember--”

The now familiar sound of Keith returning with the hoverbike cuts him off, snapping his attention towards the door.

“Keith is home?” Synthia asks. She frowns, brows furrowed in concern. “I’m worried about him.”

Coran forces a smile. “Keith will be fine,” he promises. “He just needs time to find his place in the universe. Sometimes that can take some looking!”

Her ruby lips curl up the side of her face. “You’re the best thing to happen to that boy. I’m not sure what would have become of him if you hadn’t stepped in.”

“Oh, it wasn’t all me,” Coran admits. No, really his father should take the credit, and Shiro. He’s just repeating it all. “Keith is a good lad, he’ll get there with a little guidance.”

“He is. I’ll let you see to him. See you for dinner on… Sunday, right?”

Tiny weblums swim in Coran’s stomach. This will be a very important dinner - the biggest of his life here in the past. Synthia has been a marvelous companion, and with the days ticking down…

It is time he tells her the truth. She deserves to know.

“Sunday,” Coran confirms. Because he means to be gone before Keith returns home with Shiro and the other Paladins-to-be on Monday night. They will already have a more than capable Coran in space. “And not a tick past seven!”

Syntha says farewell as Keith walks in the door. He’s covered in dust - that jacket will need to be cleaned before tomorrow.

(The Castle washing machines won’t be operational for another week.)

“Did you find everything you need for your outing next week?" he asks.

Keith sets his helmet on the counter and leans into it, exhausted. "I have no idea what's coming, Coran; I'm not sure if I ever could be ready."

Coran hums and takes a sip of his tea. "One is not always ready for what is thrust upon them, but I am certain you will rise to meet whatever challenges that come at you." He winks. "You can be fiercer than a klanmuirel and wiser than a ivorkiv."

A laugh, the first real laugh he's heard in a while. Since before Shiro disappeared. "I don't know how you come up with these things, Coran. Where do you get all your stories?"

Altea won't do, not yet. Coran taps his head. "Right here in the ol' noggin."

"You need to write that book one day," Keith continues. "The one about the princess and the space castle."

Coran smiles. He'd hate to step on Lance's toes. The book will be an intergalactic success. "Perhaps," he affords Keith. "But where's all the fun in letting people look at you like you've grown five heads!"

Keith snorts, and grins. "You'd only need two. You're alien enough as it is, Coran."

~~~~~~

"At least wear a tie," Keith says.

Coran grinds his teeth. Earth clothing is so impractical! The ties on Altea are much more intuitive! "Synthia hasn't minded casual clothing for our rendezvous before and won't mind now."

Keith looks incredulously at him. "This is a big night. If you're going to propose, do it right."

"Who said anything about proposing?" Coran says as he ties the cloth around his neck in a knot.

"What?" Keith spits, surprised. "Coran, you two have been together since I was a little kid."

"And just because two adults enjoy each other's company does not mean marriage is inevitable," he says, slicking his hair back. Pivoting to his side, Coran waggles his eyebrows. Hmm yes, still got the look even with the grey. "I am however, going to ask her to go on an extended vacation with me. She just retired this past year and I want to treat her."

Keith perks up. "Oh? When are you leaving?"

And this is where it hurts. "I'm not sure yet. Very soon. You'll know," he says with a wink. Perhaps its cruel to leave him at this crucial time... but he'll also no longer be needed.

"Did you talk about tomorrow night with Katie?" he asked.

Keith folds his arms, looking away. Sworn to secrecy on her infiltration of the Galaxy Garrison no doubt. "She said she'd be there. I talked her into bringing her flight crew, just like you suggested."

"Oh good," Coran says mildly. Internally he's throwing himself a little party. "More friends for you to make?"

"Oh, I've already met Lance and Hunk," Keith says. He chews his lip. "They were both in my class. We hung out a few times."

Coran fights a large grin. "Oh did you? That's more friends than you claimed to have!"

"We didn't get along at first but... remember when you told me about how being at the top of the class can get on people's nerves? I tried to be calm about it and,” Keith smiles - genuinely happy, “I think we get along now.”

Perfect.

“...You have a good smile, Keith. You should use it more often,” Coran says. Mostly because he isn’t sure what else to say.

Keith chuckles. “You’re being weirder than usual,” he teases.

The car is packed. This is the last time he’ll see Keith before he knows everything. If he has it his way, never again. He’ll have his proper Coran and the other Paladins and Kosmo and his mother with him.

Coran won’t be needed any longer.

But as long as everyone comes home from this war alive, that’s all that matters. And seeing Keith happy has been well worth the wait. He can only hope his lessons come through.

“Tonight’s a big night!” Coran tutts back, wagging a finger. “And tomorrow doubly for you.”

The smile Keith so warmly held evaporates to a frown. He shivers, clutching his arms despite wearing a jacket in the desert heat. “I still don’t know what I’m going to find there, Coran.”

This is the last chance Coran will have to make a difference but…

He gently wraps Keith into a hug. The boy greedily holds fast to Coran’s shirt; as if he knows this is their last talk.

“You are smart and brave and kind, Keith,” Coran says. That part hasn’t changed from when he was a small child. “You will know what to do because your heart will tell you. You don’t need me to do that.

“Be good to your friends,” Coran continues as he pulls Keith closer. “Don’t let them go.”

“I’ll miss you,” Keith says through choked sobs. “You’ll call when on vacation right?”

Coran sucks in deep, and tries not to cry himself. “I will be there for you any time you need me. I swear it. Just ask. No matter what the situation, no matter how busy I may look, you can always talk to me.”

Even if it’s not him, exactly.

~~~~~~

Synthia takes the whole ‘being an alien from the future thing’ rather well - if jumping on him and nibbling on his pointed ears in a quiznakingly fantastic way is any indication.

(She eventually has the breath to say yes.)

~~~~~~

The first stop on their elongated vacation is the nearest national park - the one he and Keith frequented in his childhood. Synthia is in much better shape than he, Coran discovers miserably. Ten years of sedimentary living will do that, even to an Altean.

Coran wheezes, crawling as he lifts a hand to a perfectly nice sitting rock, pulling himself up. Never since visiting Balmera Alpha has he felt such an acute pain to his spine.

But it is nothing compared to watching the Blue Lion lift off into the atmosphere, with five humans in tow.

“Why didn’t you go with them?” Synthia asks, cozy next to him on the rock. “If you’re trying to change the future, wouldn’t it be easier with them?”

“No,” Coran says sadly. “I’d be tempted to change too much. As long as they are loyal to each other, everything will turn out fine.”

She smiles, a wicked one that sends happy chills up his spine, a blessed relief from the burden of waiting. “So then it’s just the two of us then?”

He turns to her and twirls his mustache. “How do you feel about Madagascar?”

~~~~~

Between the two of them - Synthia’s passion for biology and her early scouting days, and Coran’s knowledge of everything else - the two make an ecological home in the jungle.

The Galra don’t find them when Sendak invades. It both relieves Coran, and renews the unsettled feeling in his stomach - for now he knows things are happening in the same way, but also things are happening the same way and people are dying.

Coran sees Voltron for the first time in years, flying overhead to combat Sendak’s fleet.

He isn’t sure what to feel. Pride, for one, they’ve made it this far - they’re still a team.

He’s also anxious, asking the same questions of himself that he has been for the last five years. Did Keith find his mother? What became of Lotor? Of Shiro and his clone?

Did Keith hate him when he realized who Coran is? For not telling him the truth about everything?

Synthia takes hold of his hand and gives it a most comforting squeeze as they watch the IGF-Atlas take a pummeling from the combined firepower of five zaiforge cannons.

What Keith thinks of him hardly matters now, he tells himself.

But it still hurts.

~~~~~

Coran is on the beach two quintants after the Atlas returns home.

He lays back in his hammock, the warmth of the sun no longer bothering him after years of it at this angle. Sunglasses shade his eyes and make spotting the Altean shuttle landing nearby crystal clear to see.

He fingers the vial of Balmeran dust he still wears around his neck. He has only two questions.

Rising, his heart skips a beat seeing Keith again. The boy - no, man now - jumps out of the pod along with Kosmo, a sight that is very encouraging.

Still, even though he knows Keith is not quick to smile, the serious way he stalks up to Coran makes jumbles of his stomach.

Kosmo sniffs him first… and whines in confusion.

Coran kneels scratches the cosmic wolf under the chin, exactly where he likes it. The wolf sits and whimpers in delight.

Then he looks Keith in the eye, the otherworldly purple tint shining through just as it had when he’d talk of space as a child.

“Are you well?” he asks first. “Did you find everything you were looking for?”

And Keith melts, knees hitting the sand and arms reaching around Coran for a hug. “You could have come with us,” he says, nearly sobbing.

Coran exhales. He must have been holding his breath, for his brain and heart feel light. Returning the hug he says, “You had everyone you needed with you. The Castle just wasn’t big enough for two of me.”

His chest tightens - the moment of truth. “Allura?”

Keith squeezes him and Coran’s heart stops. All this for nothing?

No, not for nothing. Not for Keith.

But it hurts. Allura should be alive - enjoying life with the rest of them, her family.

“...waiting a bit impatiently for me to bring you back to the Garrison,” Keith finally says. “She says it isn’t fair for you to be away from us.” A sob catches in his throat. “I agree. You deserve to be with us - your younger self doesn’t mind.” Tears of joy give way to quiet laughter. “He wants to meet you just as bad.”

Coran lets the tears flow - the first time since he said goodbye to Keith in the hospital and came to the past a lifetime ago.

“Honerva and the other realities?” he says as he pulls away, he has to know. This reality is obviously fine but the others…

What did they sacrifice instead?

Keith grins, his cheeks stained with tears, wiping them away with the sleeve of his new black jacket. Maybe to reflect his role as the Black Paladin. Or maybe they never did the Lion swap in the first place. Coran doesn’t care. “Allura tried to sacrifice herself; we wouldn’t let her. The Blue Lion agreed, and so did Voltron. The Lions spit us out and we haven’t seen them again since.”

Voltron sacrificed itself.

Coran can’t help but think back to the day Keith found the Blue Lion’s cave - the glowing blue figure of himself. The Blue Lion knew him - why wouldn’t it also know his purpose.

Forged from the trans-reality comet, it knew, and granted his wish.

“Thank you, Keith,” he says. “Thank you for bringing her back.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Keith grins back, his eyes soft and kind. “Allura still has a long life to enjoy and you’re part of it - and a part of mine too, with Mom and Kosmo, the others and both Shiro and Ryou too. Whatever you did in the future… it was worth it.”

One name is unfamiliar. “Ryou?”

Keith smiles, clearly pleased with himself. “Shiro’s clone. Long story.”

Coran sniffs, inhaling enough snot he’s sure he’ll be sick later. All that’s left is to find Synthia and travel back to the Galaxy Garrison and he’ll be with his family again.

Plus one. He can’t wait to try wrangling yelmores with himself.

If his younger self can pry him away from Allura’s side.

(He has a lifetime and more to make up for.)

#voltron legendary defender #coranweek #vld coran #vld keith #kid keith #vld fanfic #rueitae #my writing #snapshot fic #i hope you all liked it #my first time trying coran pov #tw: character death

61 notes · View notes

thebiscuiteternal · 5 years

Note

Lol, this one's as vague as possible XD, Something about an OC you've wanted to write something about, but haven't had the excuse to be self-indulgent. I'm so glad to see you around!

Y’all let me be so indulgent most of the time that I really had to think for this one. But the one AU I’ve never gotten to play with is Immortal Empress, so let’s reunite some old friends, shall we?

—

Shiro was finding that keeping pace with the leader of the Galra Nation was getting increasingly difficult. On his other side, Honerva was practically having to run.

“Just what is so vitally important about the survivors of this ship?” she asked between gasps, voicing the question that had been circling in his mind as well.

Zarkon stopped short and the two of them nearly tripped into him.

“Sir?” Shiro asked cautiously, the tension in the hall making the hair on the back of his neck prickle.

Finally, Zarkon took a deep breath and turned to them. “What do you know about the Empress’ birth?” he asked, looking down at Honerva.

“Er- well, it’s commonly taught as part of the curricular for those of us who work for her that she was a scientific birth. Surrogacy via King Alfor’s genetic donation.”

“That’s an awful lot of words to say she was a test tube baby,” Shiro said, then winced at the glare the shorter scientist leveled at him.

“Don’t be so crass. It was a great leap in the technology of family procreation,” she snipped, then turned her attention back to Zarkon.

“What if I told you that all of it was a lie?” Zarkon asked softly. “That in truth the Altean Empress had a biological mother?”

Honerva stiffened, her mouth falling open for a moment before she recovered. “You- you can’t possibly know-”

Zarkon turned on his heel and resumed his brisk walk to the hanger, and they both ran to catch back up. “I can, and I do,” he said, his voice carefully neutral as he reached out to punch the command key for the door.

The cryo tubes were being lifted from the retrieval ship by droids with crane-like arms. Shiro tried to ignore the way his stomach clenched at how many of them had the red pattern of lights that indicated the resident was deceased. Maybe they were on the other side, but they were still people. And surely not all of them had-

“Hold,” Zarkon barked, raising a hand, and the droid carrying one of the green-lit chambers froze, then lowered its burden to the floor.

The Galran leader motioned them to follow, and Shiro and Honerva glanced at each other before obeying, stepping up to peer into the frozen chamber.

The woman who slept inside looked... different from all of the other Alteans Shiro had met. Her dark hair was streaked with lighter shades and her markings-

“This isn’t an Altean,” Honerva said with a slight frown. “But... but this can’t be-”

“Can’t be what?” Zarkon pushed, his expression completely blank.

“The Mabarka are extinct, Zarkon. Alfor-”

Zarkon cut her off. “You are partially correct. She is only half Mabarka.”

And it felt like the temperature in the room dropped fifty degrees when he added. “And she is the birth mother of Empress Allura.”

#snailcomicz #voltron #zarkon #takashi shirogane #honerva #illyere #immortal empress au #fanfic

8 notes · View notes

sheithfictioncatalogue · 5 years

Text

The Future (Post-S8/Fix-It Fics Part 2)

For the last day of the @sheithnewyear event, we decided to do the highly-requested follow-up list to our Post-Season 8/Fix-it Fics list, as it corresponds with the theme neatly!

Voltron: Legendary Defender Season 8 Rewrite: Act 1 - Kelticmoon @kelticmoon

ongoing, 4/? chapters, 17k. (Mature) Contains: graphic depictions of violence. Background ships: Allura/Lance, Allura/Lance/Pidge, Pidge/OC

This is a complete rewrite of Season 8’s story arc I’m doing. The entire thing will be about 26 chapters long (1 chapter = 1 episode) and will be split into two seasons instead of the one to give it better pacing. It will have some elements from the current Season 8 with more chapters to make it not feel so rushed. The plan is to post the chapters once a week (life permitting) so my son isn't being raised by a tablet).

Over Spilled Milk - Glossolalia @fenri

ongoing, 2/? chapters, 10k. (Mature) Contains: nsfw content, xenophilia, species dysphoria, mpreg, character death. Background ships: Allura/Lance, Keith/OC

Saving the universe and all its alternate realities should warrant a karmic vacation, but if your name is Keith, catching a break has the same statistical odds as winning the lottery.

Now thirty-years-old and the father of an infant son, Keith is newly widowed and holding it together by a thin thread. In an attempt to prevent Keith from losing his everloving mind, Krolia and the retired Voltron Paladins stage an intervention on Altea. As it turns out, Keith isn't the only one in need of a helping hand.

Vein of Stars - FluffySheith @fluffysheith

ongoing, 2/? chapters, 6k. (Mature) Background ships: Allura/Lance

It's been five years since Allura made the ultimate sacrifice so they could all live in peace. Those five years have taken their toll as the former paladins have drifted apart. Once a year they still come together, but this year is different. This year Lance has been having strange dreams of Allura and the Lions, and this year he intends to rally the old gang back together. A deep space expedition is a vast commitment and an even greater undertaking, but they would do anything to find their princess again.

The IGF Atlas and her crew are about to boldly go where they've never been before in search of their long lost princess who sacrificed everything to save them all.

This is the story about how they challenged the laws of the universe at any cost to make things right.

The Way That The Story Ends - thecryoftheseagulls @thecryoftheseagulls

ongoing, 1/? chapters, 1k. (Mature)

A single Shiro clone survives the destruction of the cloning facility.

Years later, Keith is on a routine Blade of Marmora aid mission to a backwater planet just outside the remains of the old Galra empire. He’s never been to this system before. So why does his host’s favorite pilot -- a tall, masked humanoid simply called Quiet -- seem so familiar?

slow collisions (asteroids) - copperwings @worldofcopperwings

7k. (Teen) Background ships: Krolia/Kolivan, Hunk/Romelle, Allura/Lance

It’s not that he hates weddings or wedding attire. It’s just that they remind him of a certain other wedding that happened four years, two months and thirteen days ago, counting by old Earth years.

Not that he’s kept count.

- or; the fic in which Keith comes back years later for Hunk and Romelle's wedding and everything sorts itself out.

happiness is contagious - katebishoop

1k. (Teen) Background ships: Allura/Lance

Keith doesn't go back to his assigned room.

His assigned room would remain empty.

--- Or, Shiro and Keith have seen each other more often than their friends knew.

All Coming Back to Me Now - CoffeeFairy

5k. (General)

Five years after the end of the war Shiro is getting ready to marry someone who's definitely not second best.

Or, the story of Keith and Shiro's misunderstandings and the consequences of poor communication. Spoiler: Shiro doesn't marry Curtis.

shards - iokayia

2k. (Mature)

Keith realizes he has to do something about the madding silence between him and Shiro before it's too late.

Surrounded by darkness, Keith recognizes the emptiness at its full extent for the first time. It’s a piercing pain, shaking his whole body. His fingers clench around the sill when his knees start shaking. He pushes it away like everything else emotionally draining. He knows it’s wrong, it’s the dumbest thing someone could possibly do. Yet, pushing it away is easier than accepting it, even if it hurts in the end.

Shiro is everything Keith desires and wants, he wants to hear his laugh every day, to feel the comforting weight of his hand on his shoulder, to call him not Shiro but Takashi. Keith wants it all and more. He wants to call him his, his alone. The radiant glimmer in his eyes, the soft tone of his voice, the expressive faces he makes, everything.

i could’ve missed it, i never knew - tootsonnewts @tootsonnewts

2k. (General)

A sob tears itself from his throat when Shiro picks up the rough slip of paper laid gingerly inside. The familiar scrawl hits him like a punch to the teeth, all compact, efficient block print.

‘you can always call. -k’

Shiro sinks to his knees and cries like he hasn't in years.

He doesn't call.

a future.

Blossom and Beautiful - AxisMage

2k. (General)

“If you had told me before...” he´d said.

“I did, but you would never listen when I did. By the time you decided to pay my words any mind and decided that you... that you...”

“I love you.”

Keith had winced, closed his eyes in obvious pain. “Shut up.”

(Keith and Shiro had a small talk before the wedding. It set things in perspective)

Like a River Flows - zjofierose @zjofierose

2k. (Teen)

sometimes the things we fear the most are just a dream. and some things are meant to be.

The Price of Wishes Granted - Larathia

ongoing, 9/? chapters, 36k. (Teen)

Keith couldn't bear a universe that didn't have Shiro in it. What he got was a universe that had a Shiro that no longer loved him. And maybe if it had been anyone but Keith, that would have mattered.

Keith, however, had made a promise. "As many times as it takes," he'd said.

If he could make that promise reach beyond the bounds of death, a little thing like Shiro marrying someone else wasn't going to stand a chance.

The End is the Beginning - magisterpavus @saltyshiro

35k. (Explicit) Contains: nsfw content, drinking

The Universe is saved, and its Paladins are gone.

But between the tangled strands of reality, two whispers rise and fall, and one says, I love you, and the other says, as many times as it takes, and this time, he means it.

(tldr; true love always finds a way back.)

Reconciliation - Misttiique @misttiique

4k. (General)

“Hey, I really appreciate you being here, even after everything,” Shiro says from behind him.

Keith turns around slowly. “Oh, it’s nothing.”

Nothing had split his heart into two, like his increasing distance from Shiro.

“Thank you too, for everything. And being so supportive of this wedding,” Shiro continues. Keith can hear him take a step closer to him and holds his hand up, giving a signal to stop, as if they were on a mission.

“And also, for always being— ”

“Shiro, you should be getting back to your wedding party,” Keith cuts him off. His heart is breaking and the alcohol is making his emotions more volatile than they are.

“If you’re happy, then I’m happy. You should go back to your husband,” Keith advises, his voice is ice cold. He’s trying his best to believe exactly what he’s saying.

“Okay,” Shiro replies. He doesn’t push Keith. He knows when to draw the line because even when more lines are drawn, there’s always space to draw more. It’s something he’s learnt over the last year. He hesitates, as he always does, but takes a step backwards.

the voice from the stars - foxglovebrew, prouvairing @foxglovebrew

12k. (Mature) Contains: nsfw content

A year after war ends, Keith and Shiro take to the stars.

He swipes at the screen to open the notification, in case it’s something urgent. Iverson doesn’t even look up at that, used to it.

He sees what it is. He freezes.

A ping from a spacecraft—a Galra spacecraft. A new model named Viper 235, the call sign an unmistakable Black Paladin 2.

It’s followed by a message from Black Paladin 2 to his personal inbox.

HEY, OLD TIMER.

Space Explorers - CruelisnotMason @cruelisblue

ongoing, 4/5 chapters, 24k. (Explicit) Contains: nsfw content

Shiro points at a star and says "Next time bring me there."

___________________ After the war, the Paladins scatter in every direction and even Shiro and Keith become more distant. Additionally, spending his days working at the Garrison won't fulfill the man who always wanted to go out and explore space - only to be held back by the fear of having no future. Since his former disease is not an issue anymore, he grabs his best friend and goes back to space, trying to learn about foreign planets and cultures together.

Mistakes, We’ve Made A Few - Genesister (papirini)

ongoing, 8/? chapters, 40k. (Teen)

It wasn’t that Keith wasn’t upset, or angry, or frustrated, because he was. No - it was knowing Shiro was making a mistake, a big mistake, and he couldn’t say a thing. Wouldn’t.

Patience yields focus. That was what Shiro taught him, and after he had smashed his head for the fourth time into the wall of his bedroom, it hit him. An epiphany, not the wall. That was when he knew.

He couldn’t stop Shiro. Shiro was going to marry Curtis. Shiro wanted to marry Curtis. And--Shiro needed to marry Curtis. And Keith...Keith was going to let him do it. Just this once, he was not going to pull Shiro back from the precipice he stood on.

It was the only way to truly help Shiro move on, to finally, finally, do what needed to be done.

A story after the epilogue, about the mornings after, questioning Lance's sanity, and of course, happily ever afters after that not-so-happily ever after.

To the End of the Universe (and beyond) - Lys Ap Adin @lysapadin

9k. (General)

Everything is messed up for Team Voltron, but fortunately, the Lions have a plan to fix it all.

Here's a thing Lance would never have believed if he hadn't seen it happen with his own two eyes: after they come back from the nexus of all realities, team Voltron falls apart.

-Alex

#sheith #sheith fanfic #sheith fanfiction #voltron #vld fanfic #postseason8 #season8fixit #fixitfic #postcanon #yes it's a day late #yes it's my fault #but i hope you enjoy regardless #y'all asked a lot #and i can't blame you at all tbh

101 notes · View notes

kurara-black-blog · 5 years

Text

Alexander Hamilton

Date: 01/12/18

Warnings: Langst, song fic, Hamilton lyrics, stranded Lance, lots of OCs, winged Lance (mentioned).

Tag: @moonsworllld ; @xarphay ; @skydisneylover ; @mutantgurls ; @spooky-the-owl

A/N: So, there's some things I love very much: Lance, Hamilton, hope and FREEDOM! Guess what's this all about? I dunno if I’ll do the whole soundtrack, but this project is going to be big!

ALSO! The characters wil change roles, so, for example, Lance won’t always be Alexander, sometimes playing the role of Aaron Burr and some others.

ALSO ALSO! I plan on using songs from other musicals for some special chapters.

The song used for this chapter is (obviously) Alexander Hamilton.

NEXT: Aaron Burr, Sir

“What are you mumbling over there?”

“Hamilton.”

Lance didn’t even bother to remember that the Balmeran had no idea what Hamilton was. No, at that moment he didn’t have enough strength to explain to a sentient space rock what Broadway was and the absolute genius of musicals, Hamilton in particular. He was too tired from fighting Death to do that.

It was supposed to be a simple journey. Just go to a planet, talk to the King of a relatively peaceful race. Get some nice plants for Mama and some trinkets for his nephew and niece.

Simple.

Easy.

Right?

It was supposed to be a simple travel. But no, life couldn’t be easy for Lance even for a bit. He really glued a nasty piece of gum in God’s beard to have such bad luck.

It started weird enough, with the Fortress of Lions—cheesy, yes, but the Captain Al-Lan was a cheesy alien with a fascination for Voltron—refusing to go near the very system the planet—named Phanet, by the way—was localized, no matter how much it’s captain pushed and huffed in frustration. It was like the spaceship had suddenly acquired a mind of it’s on, to the point it turned off all the lights when the princess tried to go forwards again. The plan then changed, they’d try to go around it and send scientists there as soon as they were back in the safe, known universe.

He should’ve guessed something was wrong by the ship’s reaction. He should’ve known something was wrong by how it seemly wouldn’t move, forcing them to get on the escape pods in hopes of leaving.

There definitely was something wrong when his communicators suddenly stopped working.

There definitely was something wrong when he got out of the pod—he had been “lucky” to be alone in one pod—and found himself in a jungle forgotten by God.

There definitely was something wrong when he was attacked and kidnapped by Galra after a few hours walking in said jungle.

There definitely wasn’t anything right when he got shoved in a cell with a Balmerian.

Boy, don’t let him get started on the experimentations.

A few more lyrics went past his once soft lips.

“Seriously, talk-a-lot, what are you mumbling over there? Also, you should eat something.”

“I told you, rock buddy, it’s Hamilton.”

“My name’s Vak and I have no idea what Hamilton is.”

“Name’s Lance and Hamilton is a musical about Hamilton.”

“What?”

With a sigh, Lance willed his tired limbs to move him from the cold and hard floor to the cold and hard sheets the Galra dared to call beds. He grabbed the bowl from Vak’s hands, silently thanking him, before filling his stomach with food goo that wasn’t much different from what he had back in his days in the Castle.

Coran would love to hear his food was considered prison food.

With a sigh, Lance stared at his cellmate. The idea of telling Vak about one of his passions was weird. Not because Lance didn’t want to—God knows how much he would love to ramble away his pain—, but because he wasn’t used to the level of attention the alien was giving him.

Vak reminded him of Hunk. Tall and large. Probably could carry the Red Paladin for some time without tiring out. Yellow eyes filled with kindness, although he did a better job at hiding it behind a wall of salty annoyance than the Yellow Paladin could ever do. He was dressed the same way Shay and the other Balmerans dressed, a bit more ragged here and there, but what to expect from a prisoner? Besides, it wasn’t as if Lance was in a better situation, his armor had been removed with no hopes of knowing where it was and his under suit could very well be called a colander.

Lance noticed that, in truth, he was used to being tuned out by Hunk, his best friend, his best bro, the man he swore friendship for eternity. It stopped aching too much after a year with almost no contact.

Maybe that was the reason why, after swallowing spit—and hopefully the upsetting thought—, he started talking.

“A musical is, like, a play, but with songs.”

“A play?”

“Yeah, man, a play. You know what plays are, right?”

“Of course I do. I’m just wondering why anyone would put singing in it.”

“Why wouldn’t anyone put singing in it?”

“Point for you… man.”

A smile crept on Lance’s face. Oh, he liked his cellblock buddy more and more. A sentinel passed the cell door without giving them a glance. The Galra in that place must’ve been really confident to not worry about the prisoners. Well, better for him.

“Ok, you told me what a musical is, but what about Hamilton?”

“It’s a musical.”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny.”

Lance let out a small chuckle, relaxing more where he was laying.

“So, there’s this country in my planet called United States of America—”

“Wait, your planet has different civilizations?”

“Yeah, with different languages and cultures.”

Vak looked awestruck, like he couldn’t even fathom the mere idea of having more than one civilization in a planet. The boy could understand his surprise, considering how most planets he had visited only had one civilization. He wondered if humans just liked to be more complicated. He let his new buddy take some time to mull over the information by softly continuing the song.

“So, this country, America for short, started as a colony. Of England, the most powerful kingdom of that time.”

“Like the Galra?”

“Along those lines, yes. England started asking more than America was able or willing to give. And, well, if there’s a certainty about human nature is that when you push a human, they’ll push back eventually.”

“Let me guess, a rebellion?”

“A revolution, my friend. America didn’t want to just give less, America wanted to be free.”

“And that… musical, Hamilton, is about that?”

“Yes, but it focuses more in the life of one guy.”

“Was he the leader of the revolution?”

“Nah, he was one of the men that helped shape America. He worked directly with the leader. That’s why he’s a Founding Father.”

“There are others, then. So, how come he gets a musical?”

“He was almost forgotten by the country, never as famous as the others until the musical came out.”

Lance looks at Vak just in time to see the man wince. Yeah, being forgotten didn’t sound good no matter the reality. No wonder Lance was so afraid of it happening to him.

Already happened with his team.

“So? What’s the guy’s name?”

“Alexander Hamilton

My name is Alexander Hamilton

And there's a million things I haven't done

But just you wait, just you wait...”

“… You were waiting for me to ask that just so you could sing that bit.”

The cheeky smile Lance managed to send him before the guards came to get Vak for his fight on the arena was enough answer.

Sometimes he wondered if he was singing for the sake of singing or for the sake of his sanity. He guessed both, considering how he’d repeated the first four songs of the musical for days.

“Can’t you sing a lullaby?”

“What’s the fun in that?”

How long had Lance been in that prison? He honestly didn’t knew. His biological clock would tell him it was dusk, but the minuscule hole the Galra had the courage to call a window showed him the sun announcing noon. His mind told him it had been a day, but the hole told him it had been a month.

That planet was weird, really weird, as if it played by its own rules, completely disregarding the Universe and its Laws.

“And Alex got better but his mother went quick”

“Well, that’s depressing.”

“I’ve been singing this for you for some time, you’re only noticing now?”

“Oh, I have noticed it all the other billion times you sang it.”

He started retreatin' and readin' every treatise on the shelf”

“That Alexander was smart. If there’s no one to help you walk, make your own crutches.”

The human sighed—he was doing that a lot—and moved on his “bed” so he could look at the alien, avoiding let his back touch the floor at any costs. Vak had many scars scattered around his body, and some soon to be scars still fresh, looking ready to start bleeding again. He truly looked like someone forced to fight everyday so he could survive to fight in the next.

Suddenly, the human remembered the girl in the lab. The poor girl—Altean, by the markings—whose screams made a symphony with his own. The one he had named Esperanza seeing as she couldn’t remember her name. The one that shared his pain.

The big pair of white wings attached to his bloody back shivered, and he shivered together with the feathers. He was still trying to wrap his head on the fact he had now extra limbs. Esperanza made it look so easy.

“What are you thinking about?”

“We need to get out of here. We will get out of here. You, me, the others. Soon.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Yes. Absolutely insane.”

His feathers were shivering again, but this time in anticipation. Millions of plans running wild inside his head.

He wasn’t the smartest. The fastest. The strongest. No, he had none of those unique skills his old teammates had, just a handful of random skills he picked here and there.

“It’s time to start making crutches.”

But, he found out after he started travelling around in the Universe, he didn’t need to be anything else but a survivor.

Lance liked to sing. When he was happy. When he was sad. When he was angry. When he was afraid. When he was nervous.

He liked music and he liked singing and he liked his own voice.

The only thing that maybe he liked more was to be correct. Not right, no, but correct.

Liking music came with a quite nice perk: He was a good listener.

So, in between his screams of pain and his singing, he let himself drown in someone else’s voice.

Vak’s tales of his Balmera. Esperanza’s babbling about her cellblock partner—that sounded suspiciously like Slav, but less paranoid—. The guards whispered talks. The scientists clear techno ramblings.

He learned about the Rebellion. He learned how complicated to world right outside that prison was. He learned that not everyone agreed with what was happening. He learned that some just didn’t care anymore. Most importantly, he learned his way in the place and whatever more he would need to finish his plan of escape, like the guards routine.

“You’re afraid.”

“How’d you know?”

“I’ve been your… cellmate for some time now. I picked some of your weirdness.”

“Thanks, man, real comforting.”

Vak only shrugged.

“We’re going to do the impossible tomorrow. Of course I’m afraid.”

“I still ain’t sure how this plan is going to work, but I trust you.”

“Thanks, Vak.”

Silence took over for a few minutes, Vak watching the boy mull over the plan once more. It had taken movements—phoebes?—for him to prepare everything, but the day had finally come. Not for a second Vak doubted the plan, not when Lance had so carefully plotted every possible variation and considered every possible situation.

The Balmeran had never seen eyes burning with so much raw determination.

Didn’t take long for Lance to start singing again, trying to match the trembling of his fingers with the determination in his eyes.

“In New York you can be a new man (Just you wait)

In New York, New York

Just you wait!”

That last line sounded less than a verse and more like a promise.

A promise Vak full-heartedly believed in.

Vak knew Lance was singing.

Even if the boy was far away, deep in the labs of that hell, Vak knew Lance was singing under his breath.

Probably Hamilton.

Vak could hear the human’s voice resonating inside his mind, calming his racing thoughts. He didn’t have time to panic. He had to keep his part of the plan going. There were people depending on him; he could hear their labored breaths as they made their way to freedom. The freedom Lance wanted to give them. The freedom Lance would give them.

Outside of the Galra base was a cold night, stars tiredly yet dutifully showing them the way together with the round moon. They were almost free. Almost. Almost. They just had to keep going forwards.

He didn’t stop when he heard people approaching.

He didn’t stop when it was confirmed it was the rest of the prisoners.

He didn’t stop to look back at his friend.

He didn’t need to.

Lance certainly was there, in the very back, making sure no one was left behind.

Singing under his breath.

“We fought with him”

The weird alien—Fun was his name—was wrapped around the Balmeran’s shoulders, silently watching the scene. Vak could swear he heard the creature mumble about realities and percentages, but he couldn’t be sure.

“Our chances of actually getting away are rather high.”

“You have Lance to thank for that.”

“Oh, believe me, there isn’t a reality where I don’t.”

“Me? I died for him”

The wish to take flight was big, but Esperanza fought it with all her might. It would just jeopardize the carefully crafted plan Lance made. Soon, she promised herself, soon she would be free to fly as much as she wanted. Soon she would stretch her wings and touch the skies.

But for now, she would follow her friend, her leader, Lance.

Letting his whispered voice wash away her tiredness, she took another step towards freedom.

“Me? I trusted him”

General Uvoid of the Rebellion had heard about the explosion in the Galra base. She had heard about the pandemonium that was caused by an unknown force.

She knew that unknown force would be of great help in the war that was to come.

So she and some of her best men went to go rescue as many survivors there were as soon as notice of the escape attempt reached her ears thanks to the spies working there. She surely didn’t expect for so many people being freed, though, and marveled about the impossible happening right in front of her eyes.

Whoever was the cause of all this, was a key to victory.

She was almost certain it was that fragile-looking alien with burning blue eyes mouthing words without sound.

“Me? I loved him”

“Did you hear that, Khamael? I think something happened to the prison!”

“Chemie, unless it affect us directly, I don’t think that matters.”

“No, no, Lavina! Think like this: If they can get away, so can we!”

“Prince, that’s impossible.”

“It is impossible to run from the prison, yet that seems to be happening right now.”

“Whatever you say, Chems.”

“Lighten up, Lavi. We’ll get out of here, you’ll see!”

“And me? I'm the damn fool that shot him”

Trayir Riylor. It was a very well known name in between the rebels. A pureblooded Altean with some impressive fighting and diplomatic skills. A man of grace and intelligence.

A man of pride and greed.

That night sitting on his makeshift bed in hopes of recovering quickly from his injures, Trayir felt as if something was shifting. As if a piece of a big puzzle was finally moving to take its rightful place. As if the missing link was finally found and History was rearranging to make it fit.

Trayir knew something like that would happen.

He had been waiting for it.

“There's a million things I haven’t done

But just you wait!”

Lance surely didn’t expect to be rescued by the Rebellion, but he sure was glad. His plan went so far as to guarantee most of the prisoners would be able to flee, but where exactly they would be going was a mystery even for him. He was surprised when he saw Uvoid, the Galra General of the Rebellion herself, make her way towards him, more because of who she was than what she was. He stopped to sing just as she stood in front of him.

“You. Were you the one who came up with the plan to run away?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You did a great job.”

“Not really. Not even half of the prisoners are here, if only we had more time…”

“You could’ve ran away and let all those people behind. You didn’t. You saved them, be proud of yourself, drut.”

Lance wasn’t sure what “drut” meant, but if the soft look and proud smile in the woman’s face was anything to go by, it was a good thing. So he stood a little bit straighter and smiled a little bit brighter, thanking her.

When Uvoid asked for his name, he had bit back the next lyrics of Alexander Hamilton, feeling that it wasn’t the time to bring Broadway references, nor to explain to a Galra what Broadway was and who was Alexander Hamilton.

What's your name, man?

“Lance.”

#voltron #hamilton #clara writes #langst #alexander hamilton #voltron lance #vld lance #hamilton lyrics #hamiltron

39 notes · View notes