#so allura having PINk markings?

[swagging-back-to]

naur seriously can we talk about how allura was even like 'the lions were made to be piloted by you and you alone'referring to the fact they are the only five people in the entire multiverse to have pure quintessence corresponding to the colors oftheir lions....

if one paladin is MIA then that lion should be inactive, benched. you dont simply play musical chairs with the lions. if it waa that easy then ANYONE could be the paladins at ANY time and theres no reason for the human paladins to be there at all especially if they dont want to be. but no the human paladins are NEEDED or else keith and allura would have no problem with pidge leaving in the first two episodes. nor would they mind if lance went home. but they DO mind. they PREVENT pidge from leaving and they make lance believe going back to earth isnt an option at all--that it isnt even on their iternary.

So no. i refuse to acknowledge the lion switching as canon.

#i feel like i should also bring up my headcanon that altean markings correlate to quintessence colors. #this is why lance has PURE blue meanwhile coran has teal. #coincidentally coran also embodies characteristics of the green and blue lion (loyal compassionate curious eccentric) #so allura having PINk markings? #she aint the blue paladin. #i know that theory falls apart quickly when you look at alfor--the red paladin who has blue markings #but still #it also makes zero sense to have the only person who can create a wormhole and PILOT THE ENTIRE CASTLESHIP be #in a lion fighting a battle that they could die in any second--therefore stranding everyone who needs the castleship to escape #allura being the blue paladin would-in reality- lead directly to the galra winning the war. #it only takes five seconds to put her and blue out of commission. simply fire an ion canon or two directly at her and then the other #paladins + coran are stranded and completely helpless. #after that it would be a piece of cake for the galra to capture every single lion and their paladins. #from that point they could go into the castleship and go through any + all information about rebels #the coalition and the blades of marmora. all because allura wanted to be RVEN MORE in the spotlight than she already is #the rntire war against the galra would be irreparably destroyed. the galra wpuld win flat out to the point #that no amount of rebellion would even make a dent in their power. #meanwhile if they simply just stayed in their proper lions and fought without shiro (with allura still manning the castle) #they would take lots of blows and it would be very hard-but at least they would win. #voltron #rant

[autisticlancemcclain]

“Ooooooh, that looks interesting!”

Keith groans, as loudly and dramatically as he can. He tries to emulate Shiro every time he was finally forced to actually do his job and mark student papers after weeks of procrastinating.

(He’s pretty successful, if he does say so himself.)

“Please,” he begs the red paladin, yanking on his sleeve to dissuade him from turning into the store. It does nothing.

“C’mon,” Lance says, ignoring his agony. “One last store, okay?”

“You’re a dirty liar. You said that two hours ago.”

Lance reaches back blindly to pat Keith patronizingly on the head, missing by a mile and smacking him on the face instead. Keith has to bat his hands away. “There, there. You once tried to fight a ten thousand year old zombie dictator with your bare hands. You will survive.”

“Fistfighting Zarkon wasn’t nearly this painful,” Keith grumbles, but lets Lance pull him into the store, anyway.

God, he’s fucking whipped. He’s embarrassed of himself. Truly.

He dutifully takes the basket Lance hands him (on top of his twelve other shopping bags, full to the brim, Keith might add) and holds it out whenever Lance gasps excitedly and swipes something off a shelf or a hangar.

“Allura would look great in this skirt!”

“Wouldn’t Pidge look adorable with this hair bow?”

“Oh, Hunk has been looking for this!”

“Gasp!” (He actually says the word gasp, out loud, with his mouth.) “Hair chalk! Maybe Shiro will let me dye his floof!”

“You’re ridiculous,” Keith tells him. He sounds so fond that a random passer-by raises an amused eyebrow at him, which makes Keith want to melt into the floor. “Like an irritating wind-up toy.”

There. That should cover his tracks.

Lance pauses for a moment, turning to face Keith and squinting at him. For a brief, foolish moment, Keith feels something like hope — maybe this horrible torture will come to an end!

“Didn’t you collect wind-up toys when you were a kid?” he questions, head tilted. “You had like four boxes of them in your shack. I stole a little stegosaurus.”

Keith opens his mouth, then shuts it again. His ears burn.

“First of all, you have a kleptomania problem,” he points out, instead of stop knowing so much about me and let me live in peace. “Second of all, you are a snoop and I hate you.”

Lance snorts. “Yeah, yeah.”

Keith is about to say something else, something scathing, something to make him the clear winner of this dumbass, not-real argument, but then Lance absentmindedly links his arm through Keith’s and pulls him close as he strolls down an aisle full of puzzles and games.

Keith’s throat goes dry. Lance smells faintly of something floral, sweet.

Briefly, he squeezes his eyes shut and prays for strength. It will do nothing, because the universe likes to put Keith in horrible situations and laugh at him, but he tries anyway.

They walk in mostly silence for a the next little while, interrupted only by Lance’s quiet humming and occasional points of interest. He’s agonizingly slow to walk through the store — Keith is sure at this point that he’s doing it on purpose, no one likes shopping for this long, he’s definitely punishing Keith for drinking the last of the red juice packs — but perks up excitedly when he sees an aisle lined with jars on one side, and various tubes and pallets on the other.

“Look! Look look look! They have a skincare and makeup section!”

Keith turns his head to the sky. “Why do you despise me,” he mutters to it.

He is never getting out of this goddamn store.

“Come on, you drama queen,” Lance says, dragging him towards the first shelf of various products. “Shiro and Pidge keep stealing all my products because they are horrible people who don’t know how to ask for things. I need to replenish. Come help!”

He yanks Keith forward. Yelping, Keith stumbles after him. “I’m coming, you goober, yeesh! Ease up a bit.”

Smirking, Lance ignores him. He reaches for a shiny pink pot, unscrewing the lid and taking a sniff. He makes a face. “Blegh. Here.”

Keith indulgently smells it and almost gags. “That smells the way final exams feel.”

He trails after Lance for the next fifteen minutes, smelling weirdo products and laughing himself to tears at Lance’s various reactions. He has the pleasure of making Lance laugh, too, with all his creative descriptions; making his brown eyes light up and his bright smile making Keith’s heart do dangerous things.

He’s so fucked. He’s so fucked!

“Oh, hey, I have an idea. Close your eyes.”

It doesn’t even occur to Keith not to listen. That’s the embarrassing part. Lance tells him to close his eyes and immediately his world goes dark.

He feels something approach his face.

“Smell this,” Lance says.

Keith grimaces. “Can we be done with the nasty smells?”

“This one isn’t nasty, promise. It’s lip gloss. Guess the flavour.”

Keith hesitantly leans forward and inhales. To his surprise, the scent is pleasant, familiar.

“Mint?”

“That one was too easy,” Lance says. “Keep your eyes closed, smell this one.”

Less wary now, Keith does. This one is even better than before.

“Oh, oranges!”

Lance grumbles to himself. Keith hears rustling, like Lance is digging through something, and then a sharp intake of breath.

Keith peeks an eye open. “Everything okay?”

“Close your eyes again,” Lance orders. Keith does, hesitantly, noting that Lance’s expression is very particular, in a way he can’t place.

“Guess this one,” he says quietly.

Keith does. He frowns, tiling his head in confusion.

“D’you give up?”

Lance sounds closer. Much closer, actually. Keith’s breaths get heavier.

“No.”

Lance says nothing for a moment, and Keith is tempted to open his eyes. He feels Lance get closer, feels the heat of his breath on his cheeks. He’s still for a moment, and Keith’s heart pounds as he breathes rapidly, strangely familiar scent of the lipgloss getting closer and closer.

“…You want a hint?”

Keith nods rapidly. The smell gets even stronger, and then something warm and sticky presses against his lips.

Lance is kissing him.

He pulls back as quickly as he leaned in, but not far. The scent of the lip gloss is still cloying, intermingling with the scent of Lance, sweet and fruity.

“I don’t think I’ve ever tasted it before,” Keith rasps. He cracks open his eyes, barely, and finds them level with Lance’s nose, close to those shiny lips.

Lance hums. “It’s sweet pear.”

“Oh.” That makes sense. “It’s nice.”

Lance leans in again, and Keith does too, like a magnet drawn to Lance’s polarity. “Wanna taste again?”

As if Keith would ever say no to that.

———

based on this post

#this is so dorky teehee #vld #voltron #keith #keith kogane #lance #lance mcclain #klance #getting together #red paladin lance #black paladin keith #whipped keith #truly down bad #pining keith #my writing #fic #fic fragment #longpost #brown-eyed lance

[the-lightning-strikes-again]

Lotura Week 2023 Day 7 - Cooking Up Chaos

In Which Cats Invite Chaos

Emperor Lotor of the Galra entered his private study and stopped short in surprise, unsheathing his sword to wield against spies and soldiers. But the individual stooped over his desk—with all of its secrets of the empire—was no spy and certainly no decorated soldier that he knew.

Instead, a beautiful woman in an iridescent dress sat atop the wood, frozen, with Lotor’s own cat in her arms.

Lotor lowered his sword in disbelief, as before him sat the living image of the renowned Princess Allura of Altea.

She squeaked, releasing the cat before hopping off the desk in a manner most would have considered un-royal, her skirts lifting in the shuffle to show dainty ankles and a shadow of a slim, toned leg. “Oh,” the princess exclaimed, her elfin ears flicking back. “Oh, I’m so terribly sorry, whoever you are. You see, this darling creature stole my attention and guided me back here.”

Lotor’s split pupils lowered to the sight of the princess’s hands, which trembled as she moved to clasp her skirts.

“I am Princess Allura of Altea,” she babbled, moving to curtsey before him. Her thick, white curls slipped down her shoulder. “Please do not kill me, sir—my father would be very unhappy, as he would have to start a war, and really, no one wants a war anymore.”

The Emperor swallowed hard. He’d barely heard a word she had said, for his attention had swept to the princess’s bare shoulder and the glimmer of the gems in her hair. “I—” He cleared his throat, then straightened his spine. “I thought the planet Altea had not accepted my invitation at all.”

The princess stood up from her curtesy, eyes widening. “Your invitation?”

He tilted his head and swept out his clawed hand. “You are in my private study,” he said, his heart pounding. “And I am Emperor Lotor, the host of this ball.”

Allura’s slipped feet disappeared under her thick skirts, as did Kova, who continued to purr happily against her legs. Her chest heaved with fearful breath. “You’re Emperor Lotor? You?” She awkwardly began to backstep.

Most oddly, the more she stared at him, the more heated her cheeks grew, which Lotor could visibly see by the brightening glow of her Altean marks.

He could hear her heart pound in the same rhythm as his own.

And then he could sense it, even beneath her juniberry perfume.

Out of all the woman who’d come to the ball for his hand, it was the Princess Allura who found him attractive.

Lotor said to Allura, his velvet voice light and unassuming, “My apologies, princess. I did not mean to intimidate you. This is simply an odd spot to meet my most elusive neighbor from Altea.”

She flushed deeper, her marks a bright glimmer of pink. “Oh, I—I feel I’ve made a terrible bungle of things. I was supposed to—” she cleared her throat. “Well, I was quite hoping to represent my planet appropriately, and here I am chasing a pet.”

He smiled, his fangs glimmering in the low light of the study. “Kova is known to enchant all, but he rarely chooses to return the attention. That must make you special, Princess Allura.”

Her elfin ears—so sleek and delicate—flicked with the praise.

The heat off of her radiated to him, along with the maddeningly fast pound of her heart. His eyes began to dilate in response to her pheromones and the tension of the space between them.

Princess Allura swallowed hard visibly. “How, um, should I make up for this social faux paus, Emperor Lotor?”

Lotor hummed, then held out his hand. “I would request a dance with the Princess of Altea, if she is agreeable. And if she can untangle Kova from her skirts.”

The cat’s tail swished lazily from beneath the hem of Allura’s dress. He had lain over her slippered feet, purring loudly in contentment of her warmth and scent.

Allura made a noise, delicately lifting up her skirts to reveal the sleepy cat. “Am I allowed to dance with your owner, little one?”

Lotor’s eyes caught sight of the princess’s dainty ankles once more, along with the glimmering gems of her slippers. He had difficulty looking away.

The cat meowed in a pout before rising up, slinking away with a look at Lotor.

Lotor glanced back at him, quirking a brow.

The next thing he knew, the princess’s fingers gently grabbed for his own, and her scent enveloped him in a delightful haze.

“I do not know Galran dances,” she admitted quietly, raising her eyes to him. “But I am willing to learn if you do not mind to teach me, Emperor Lotor.”

He glanced back at her. The tension between them heightened.

“Perhaps,” he murmured, “you could teach me an Altean one in return.”

Her face lit up with a bright smile, her cheeks glowing once more.

#Voltron #Lotura #Lotor #Allura #LoturaWeek2023 #VLD #Sorry again for the late upload #was a hell of a weekend oof #but we made it! #I realized I hadn't uploaded anything with Kova in it so lil fur bab gets a spotlight in this one lol

[corvus--rex]

A Candidate for a Soulmate Bled (aka, Oops, My Hand Slipped)

Title is from Red Hot Chili Peppers' Otherside

A soulmate AU feat. pierced and tattooed musician Keith and bartender Lance (also they both smoke, sorry)

TW: mentions of past self-harm and a suicide attempt

Implied spicy times

☆・♪・☆

Lance tried not to look at the words on the inside of his left wrist.  Ever since they first showed up on his thirteenth birthday he tried to look at them as little as possible.  The first words he would hear from his soulmate, sitting there in their own handwriting in neat, sharp script: slittin’ my throat it’s all I ever.

He tried not to look, just like every day, as he settled the leather cuff in place.  But something new about it caught his attention.  Color had begun to creep in from the center behind the black letters.  Red, swirling and spreading like a drop of ink in water.  He refused to think of another possibility, given the words themselves, but he knew what that color meant – he’d be meeting his soulmate soon.

Making his way through Los Angeles traffic to his new job, Lance couldn’t help his eyes flicking to the black leather covering those words and the new color.  He needed to get a handle on it.  It was his first day as a bartender at The Lion Den, co-owned by two of the most unfairly beautiful women he’d ever met, Allura and Romelle, although he’d almost as quickly seen the soulmarks on them, bubbly print wrapped in periwinkle on Allura and elegant script on a bed of petal pink on Romelle.  He knew they’d noticed how he kept his own mark covered, but neither of them said anything about it.  Naturally, he’d charmed them immediately, and they declared him hired without hesitation after an hour behind the bar effortlessly making every cocktail they threw at him.  Right then, however, he just wished LA traffic wasn’t such a bitch.

“Ah, excellent!  Right on time!” Coran announced to Lance and the world in general as the heavy side door crashed shut.

Lance had met Coran when he came in for his interview and audition with Allura and Romelle, not noticing until after he’d finished with their barrage of cocktail orders that the older man was standing at the far end of the bar, leaning against the wall.  He’d been just as impressed, if not more so given his decades of experience.  Allura and Romelle may have had the official final say, but Lance could tell he wouldn’t have been hired if not for Coran’s approval.

“I’ve decided you’ll be here on the main bar tonight, along with myself, of course, Romelle, and Rizavi,” Coran said while leading Lance through to the floor.

Lance cocked his head toward the stage.  He wasn’t expecting anyone to be there hours before the legendary celebrity hangout opened, but the stage was occupied by a single person, blood red electric guitar in his hands.  The notes tickled something in the back of Lance’s mind, he knew the song but couldn’t quite place it.  The song faded into the background as he let himself be distracted by the guitarist.

Even on stage Lance could tell he was tall, pale skin visible through a patchwork of tattoos covering his arms and sides.  The faded band tee he wore had been altered at some point in its life, sleeves cut off, turning it into the muscle tank that showed off the ink that peeked through.  Lance could see the edges of another tattoo over the neckline just below a black satin choker.  A half-assed ponytail barely held silky black hair back, not that he seemed to notice the strands slipping free to frame his delicately angular face, partially obscuring the piercings scaling his ears, thick brows knit in concentration, he was far too focused on the music.  It took Lance far longer than he’d like to admit to recognize this god in human form as Keith Kogane, guitarist and vocalist of Black Knight/Red Knight.

“Yeah, he likes to come in sometimes, if he’s playing that night.  Says it’s quiet enough to think.”  Coran looked between Lance and Keith.  “Have you two met?”

Lance snapped back to where Coran was standing beside him.  “Wha-no. Um, no, we haven’t.”

“Well, you’ll probably get to tonight.  He’ll probably be here until closing.  Usually is.  Anyway, here’s where you’ll be tonight.  Get familiar with the space, it’ll be your home for tonight and possibly longer if you can keep up.”

Lance shook his head, refocusing on his job.  “Right.”

As promised, once The Lion Den opened for business, it was packed.  The majority were actors and musicians, sliding in and out of booths and tables, talking and drinking.  Having worked in the city for a few years, Lance was well aware of how much the entertainment industry could put away on a good night, and this was a good night.  They’d only been open for two hours, and he’d already been hit on by several people, men and women both, and they tipped well if he played along, knowing full well they’d forget all about the cute bartender at the end of the night, which worked just fine for him.  He might have intentionally dressed for it with his favorite mix of “classy” and slutty that would also keep him from overheating in the form of his favorite curve-hugging jeans and buttoned waistcoat, nothing underneath it, which also showed off his own extensive tattoo collection.

The sheer number of Jack & Cokes he’d made already meant that the bottle of Jack in his well had run out quickly, and their barback was nowhere to be seen, leaving Lance to refill the well himself.  He had the bottle in hand and had just stepped back through the door from the store room and onto the floor when he heard a single note from a guitar and a smoky voice joining in.

“Slittin’ my throat, it’s all I ever…”

The rest of the song was instantly blocked out, although he recognized it instantly as Otherside, the same song Keith had been playing that afternoon.  Had it not been for Rizavi beside him, he would have dropped the bottle when his soulmark erupted under his leather cuff with a burn so intense it made his skin tingle and itch.  He ripped the cuff off, stiff leather hitting the floor.  The ink drop from that morning had exploded, deep, bright, red licking out from the words like a mix of blood and flame.  Keith fucking Kogane was his fucking soulmate.

“Lance.  Lance, are you alright?” Coran asked.

Lance looked up, glancing at Coran before moving past him, watching where Keith continued to play onstage, completely oblivious to his soulmate staring at him from behind the bar.

“Yeah.  I think I’m good,” he answered, breathless.

Coran finally noticed the lack of Lance’s cuff and what it had been hiding, looking up to the stage and back, an unfathomable expression on his face.

“Good,” he said, unusually subdued, “He usually gets a drink after playing and takes it outside for a smoke, just so you know.”

Lance immediately understood that there was far more to Keith than he’d ever imagined.  “Thanks, Coran,” he said quietly before turning back to the crowd of half drunk actors and musicians in front of him.

Just like Coran had said, not long after Keith was finished he came down to the bar, heading directly for Romelle at the other end, making Lance almost miss him when he walked by again, heading for the back door, rocks glass of neat whiskey hanging from his fingertips.  The bar was still busy, although not so busy that Lance would be greatly missed.  Coran nodded toward the back door, giving Lance all the permission he needed to take off.

Keith was leaning against the wall, glass on the hip-high table while he lit the cigarette between his lips.  Lance just stood there, watching as Keith slipped the lighter back in his pocket and tipped his head back, exhaling a stream of smoke into the night air.  His ponytail was just as half-assed as it had been that afternoon, and he was still wearing the same muscle tank, but now Lance was closer, spotting the lip ring he hadn’t seen earlier, along with the daith and tragus piercings, and noticing that the satin choker had been replaced with studded leather.  He watched while long fingers picked up the glass, cigarette caught between them, watched while Keith took a sip, not noticing until glass touched wood that he was being fixed with a deep violet stare.

Lance’s brain couldn’t catch up with his mouth before he spoke.  “You’re beautiful.”

Keith stared at him, confused and disbelieving, for only a split second before his own soulmark exploded in color, deep, clear blue spilling out like rolling waves.  There, in Lance’s flowing cursive, were the same two words he’d just spoken in awed, hushed tones.  Keith stared at his wrist as the color finished filling out, then snapped up to Lance.  In two long strides, he’d pinned Lance to the wall, caging him in.

“Do you – do have any idea?  Any idea what those words have done to me?” Keith demanded, his voice strained.

“Do you have any idea what yours have done to me?” Lance countered, holding his own arm up, song lyric in full view.

Keith huffed, but there was a sadness to it.  He reached behind his neck with his free hand, unclasping the choker, letting it fall into his hand.  The scar it was hiding had faded, silvery now instead of pink, but it’s path was clear.  The lyric permanently a part of Lance’s skin held more truth than he hoped, and just as much as he’d feared.

“Yeah, I think I do.  But yours?  They saved me.  I hit my lowest point, but while I was recovering, I’d see those two words, and it reminded me that there was someone out there somewhere who’d see this broken mess and love me anyway.  It’s been my constant reminder that maybe I’m not as worthless as I think.”

Lance saw every shred of pain in the violet gaze he held, every jagged edge of recovery, every crack held together by the weight of his words.  He saw the despair and the hope, and was immediately determined to keep that hope alive.  He grabbed the front of Keith’s top, yanking him closer, lips crashing together.

Keith tasted of smoke and whiskey and sweat and metal.  Lance tugged gently on Keith’s lip ring, and whimpered, letting him in.  A tongue piercing Lance didn’t know about grazed the roof of his mouth, the feeling familiar and foreign, this one not being his own.  Keith found Lance’s and deepened their kiss further, abandoning his lit cigarette in the ashtray to lift Lance by his thighs, pushing him harder into the wall.  Lance wrapped his legs around Keith’s waist, holding him there as he pulled away.

“You’re not, y’know,” Lance said, fingers running through loose black strands, “You’re worth everything.”

☆・* :·♪·: *・☆

“Y’know,” Lance said, flicking ash into the heavy glass ashtray beside him, “I really thought I’d quit.  Guess not.”

Keith snorted beside him in bed.  “That’s what you’re worried about?  We literally just met tonight, I basically kidnapped you from work to bring you back to my place, and we just fucked, but the first coherent thing you say is that you guess you haven’t really quit smoking?  Seriously?”

“Hey, it’s important.  Might have to call out tomorrow, though.  Not sure if I’ll be able to walk.”

Keith just shook his head with a silent laugh shaking his shoulders and stole the cigarette.  He took one last drag, reaching across to put it out.  “Want to make that a certainty?”

“Oh fuck yes.”

#my writing #ao3 #keith kogane #lance mcclain #keith x lance #klance #vld keith #vld lance #soulmate au #musician keith #bartender lance #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender

[seraphimfawn-fallen]

The Klance Pups - Omegaverse Klance AU

Helping Love Omegaverse Klance AU - Explanation on the kids from Oldest to Youngest, Appearance & ect.

{Oldest Child: Sylvio - Middle children: Nadia and Cole - Youngest Child: Mela}

About Sylvio:

Sylvio is a smaller version of Lance, mocha brown skin since both Lance and Luis have dark brown skin so Sylvio ended up taking after Lance in both skin and Hair color. He has blue scale marks and ocean blue eyes like his papa (Lance) and when he turned 9, he was presented as an Omega with a loving two parents (Keith is who he accepts as his father). He has a height of 4'8 and he's Lance's oldest child. In the story before the Epilogue, he is 5 years old. Because of his Heritage he is half Human and Half Altean and Galran, the Galra DNA in him is because of Lance's blood from Yjok's misdeed towards Melenor when Lance's was still a baby in Melenor's stomach.

About Nadia

Nadia is Sylvio's 5 month younger sister, she got Luis's brown hair and light brown skin but Lance's blue eyes, she has pale pink scale marks like her Aunt Allura and Grandmother Melenor. When she also turned 9 she was presented as an Alpha with her two loving parents (Keith is who she accepts as her father). She has a height of 4'5 and she's Lance's oldest daughter. In the story before the Epilogue, she is 5 years old like her brother Sylvio. Because of her Heritage, like Sylvio, she has 3 species of DNA in her but has Altean marks and doesn't show any form of Galra features. She has Human ears like her birth father Luis and brother Sylvio.

About Mela

Mela is Lance's youngest daughter and the middle child with Nadia, she has Keith's hair but a mix of veridian red scale marks that are a bit dark because of Lance's blue scale marks. She has a mix of her parent's eyes and Lance's skin tone but it's lighter because of Keith's pale nature. Mela also has a mix of 3 species however, her DNA has more Galra in it because of both Keith and Lance possessing Galra blood but in the end she looked remarkably like an Altean but her parents are still looking for Galra features that she may possess. Because of a time issue in Space, she became Lance's youngest child and her younger brother Cole became the middle child so at the time in the story before the Epilogue, she was almost a year old before Cole was born but because of the three year time issue, Cole is three years older than her. She presents as an Omega but acts like an Alpha when she's older, she inherited Keith's hardheaded personality.

About Cole.

Cole was originally Lance's youngest but became the Middle child after the time Issue, in the story he is three years old but shows issues with his vocals making him a possible mute however there are times that he does speak but expresses that he feels most comfortable with Sign language that Lance taught him. He is half Altean and Galran because of his parents but he hates Lotor once he learns the truth and considers and will only accept Keith as his father. Because Keith is also Galra, getting used to his Galra features is something both he and Keith bond over. In the story before the Epilogue, he refused to leave Lance's side because of the upstart Luis started and he was shown to be timid shy boy. He looks Altean with white hair, blue pupils but yellow sclera, and seafoam green Altean marks. His skin is light brown and the only showing aspect of his Galra features are his yellow sclera with his blue eyes. He presents as an Alpha and once he's older he is already close to 5'7.

#klance #amwriting #wattpad #bottomlance #omegaverse #voltron

[rorimoon9597]

Ch 1

---------

He had only planned on going into the base and getting information, then to get the baby out of there when he found out about it.

Now, it had been a few hours, and he was back in his lion, staring down at this sleeping baby.

She was peaceful, wrapped up in a thin baby blanket, but Shiro had so many questions.

Altn-251.

Altean 251.

How many had they experimented on?

How'd they even get an Altean child? Because he only knew two.

Well, three now, he supposed, because the base he'd infiltrated had been hiding an Altean child that looked to be around two or three months old.

She was cute, though, he had to admit that.

Her hair was a soft pink, like cherry blossoms in the spring. Her eyes and Altean marks were purple, and she was sleeping in his arms peacefully.

'Allura and Coran are going to be so confused yet happy to know that they're not the only ones,' Shiro thought to himself.

The baby had been awake when Shiro first saw her. Her scared eyes turned to well... Less scared. She seemed to know that he was there to get her out, and she'd fallen asleep pretty quickly. He was glad, because it meant that she didn't have to see the blood and lifeless bodies all over the place.

He'd nearly thrown up as he got out of that place.

Black sent him a message, and Shiro sighed in relief.

"I guess it's time to return home, huh?" He asked. Black agreed.

He put the baby, which he'd already named Sakura, into a special cot that apparently Alfor had put in all of the lions for cases like this. He sent a thanks to the dead king that he'd thought ahead like this.

Shiro sat down in the pilot's seat and moved Black, guiding her into the atmosphere and out of it.

"Guys, are you there?" He said into his comms.

"Shiro! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Princess, though I crashed into a planet that had a base filled with people wanting to experiment on a baby," he said.

"A baby?!" Coran asked, genuinely upset and angry.

"Yes. I've dealt with all of the personnel and I have the baby with me, she's asleep right now."

"Coran, go prepare a room for the baby. I believe that we should still have my old things from when I was one in the storage," Allura said.

"Yes, Princess."

"Shiro, I'm going to need your coordinates so that I can open a wormhole to get you and the baby back quicker."

"On it," he replied. He easily sent off his coordinates. Moments later, a wormhole opened in front of him.

He flew Black through it. Seeing the castle again gave him a sense of relief. He wasn't as tense as before, even when he had Sakura in his arms.

He landed Black in her hangar. The entire team, including Coran, were already there. Shiro sighed with relief.

They were safe. The kids in his care were safe, and they were home.

He went and grabbed Sakura, wrapping the blanket to cover her head. Then he grabbed the things he'd managed to get from that place - the baby formula was one of them - and left Black.

"Is this the little one you found?" Coran asked, peering at Sakura.

"She is. Although, I have no clue as to how she exists," Shiro replied.

"What do you mean?" Allura asked, curiously. Shiro pulled away the bit of blanket covering Sakura's head.

"Because her people are supposed to be dead."

The entire team gasped. Allura and Coran stared at the baby in his arms. Sakura moved, and her eyes opened. She looked at the princess.

"Hello, there," Allura said. Sakura made a noise at her. "You're so adorable! Your ears, too! Oh, I'm so glad to meet you."

"You can hold her," Shiro said. Allura looked up at him, smiled, and took Sakura from his arms.

That snapped the others out of their stupor.

"What were they planning on doing to her?" Keith asked.

"I don't know, but I made sure to download all of the information I could," Shiro replied.

"We'll have a look at that information in a tick. I just need to make sure that you and the little one are both okay," Coran said.

"Sakura," he said.

"Sakura?" Allura repeated. Shiro nodded.

"Yeah. I... I decided to name her so... I went with Sakura."

"That's what the Japanese call the cherry blossoms. They only bloom for a couple of weeks in spring, so there's this whole viewing. The flowers are pink," Keith supplied. Allura smiled.

"I think that it's the perfect name for you. Don't you think so?" Sakura made another sound in reply to Allura.

"Let's go check over you and little Sakura here." Shiro nodded.

All of them made their way to the infirmary, where Shiro and Sakura were scanned. Luckily, Shiro had a minor concussion and bruising. Sakura was in good health.

Pidge took plenty of videos and photos of Sakura, while Lance cooed at her and played games with her.

"We were able to set up a room for her using many of Allura's old things, so she should be quite comfortable," Coran informed him. Shiro nodded, watching as the three teens and the mice fussed over Sakura.

"That's good. I'm honestly glad I got thrown onto that planet."

"You said that you took care of the scientists there?" Keith asked.

Shiro could only nod, barely able to keep away from the fuzzy memories that tried to creep into his mind and take over him.

"We'll have to take a look at that information you got soon. Perhaps when Sakura is sleeping."

"Yeah."

It didn't take long for Sakura to fall asleep again. Lance said that it was probably the excitement of meeting friendly people. Shiro had to agree.

So they put her down for a nap in Allura's old crib. Then, with a baby monitor in hand, they went to decipher the information that Shiro had the foresight to gather.

So they crowded around one of the desks in Green's hangar, where Pidge opened up Shiro's arm and plugged in a few wires to get to the information.

Pidge sucked in a giant breath.

"What's it say?" Lance asked.

"It says that Sakura is the 251st test subject. All of the other ones died because of the intensity of the tests. Not only that, but they were planning on turning her into a monster and setting her against us."

"Then it is very good that Shiro found her before then." All of them nodded.

Shiro knew what it was like to be turned into a weapon, to have what made a person themselves ripped away slowly until they were a shell of who they were.

He could still barely crack the jokes he used to make. In fact, none of the others except for Keith knew that he used to make them.

A hand on his shoulder, Keith's hand, pulled him out of his thoughts. Good thing, too, because he might have spiralled farther than he wanted.

"I'm glad that I got her out of there." He admitted.

"We all are, Shiro. However, we can not afford for the Galra Empire to hear of her. I don't want to know what would happen if they did, so we can not risk it."

"Allura's right. We can leave her on the ship with me during missions of all kinds. I have taken care of not only Allura when she was a baby, but also my own children." This revelation made the Humans look at each other.

Coran had lost his family when Altea was destroyed, just as Allura had lost her father.

"Alright well, that sounds good. We leave her here when we have missions, and take turns caring for her," Shiro said.

"That sounds like a good plan," Allura confirmed.

"That also means that we will have to keep other diplomats from knowing of her existence, so everyone who lives on this ship is sworn to secrecy," Pidge added.

"We'd all keep her a secret from diplomats regardless, Pidge," Keith pointed out. Pidge just shrugged.

"I'm just trying to make sure that everyone's on the same page here," she told him.

"We all are," Shiro confirmed.

"Sakura's cuteness is too precious to be shared with anyone else," Lance commented.

"I agree with Lance on that. Though wouldn't it be a good idea to socialise her with other children?" Hunk asked.

That was a very good point.

Sakura was going to need to get used to other children and learn how to share, be kind, and all of that. Letting her hang out with other children her age would be a good idea.

"We can let the Olkari know of her existence, though they will be sworn to secrecy, as Pidge said earlier. However, I do believe that they will not tell anyone else about Sakura," Allura said. She gave them all a smile. "I will talk to Ryner about this subject as soon as I am able to." 

They separated then, going off to do their own things. Pidge continued to scan through the information, joined by Lance who was the most fluent in Altean compared to the rest of them. Hunk went to make something for lunch, and Coran went off to check on everything within the castle. Keith joined Shiro.

“Is something wrong?” He asked. Keith shook his head.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just… need to talk to you about something,” he replied. Shiro tilted his head, curious. 

“Not here. I… I don’t want the others to know just yet…”

“Oh. So a secret thing?” Shiro asked. Keith nodded. “Let’s go to the training deck. You can tell me there.”

“Okay.”

They walked there in silence, side by side. Two brothers, going to beat each other up and talk about a secret that the youngest trusted the oldest with.

Shiro had to laugh at that.

“What?”

“We’re basically brothers, and we’re on our way to beat each other up,” Shiro replied.

“You’re a dumbass,” Keith said, shaking his head. He was smiling though.

They entered the training room and got ready, standing in position and waiting for the other to make a move.

As always, it was Keith who moved first. He tried to punch Shiro. Shiro blocked it and swung at him. Keith managed to dodge the move, then made to kick Shiro, forcing them apart.

“So, what’d you want to tell me?” He asked, dodging another hit.

“My crush,” Keith replied. He dodged a kick aimed at his head.

“Any progression with that? Have you maybe kissed him?” That threw Keith off long enough for Shiro to knock him off his feet. Unfortunately, Keith was able to steady himself. He attempted to swipe at Shiro. 

“We ended up on the same planet together,” Keith replied, standing up and aiming a high kick at Shiro. He moved out of the way and grabbed Keith’s leg, pulling the younger to the ground and pinning him.

“And?” Shiro prompted.

“He may have thought that we maybe weren’t going to survive, and he might have kissed me.” Shiro grinned. He laid down on the ground next to Keith, putting his feet up in the air and resting his head on his hands as if he were a teenage girl talking about crushes with her friends.

“Do tell, Keith. Did you like it? Did you kiss him back? Do you want to marry him and have five babies?”

“What the fuck?” Keith asked. Shiro snorted.

“Just tell me,” he insisted. Keith laid himself flat on the floor, face smushed into it.

“I… liked it. And I kissed him back. And now I want to find him and make out with him.” Shiro laughed, causing Keith to glare at him. The red covering his face made it hard to take him seriously, though.

“You’re in love,” he teased. Keith got up and launched himself at Shiro. They ended up wrestling on the floor, going back and forth until they were lying side by side, breathless.

“I think I am,” Keith said. His voice was so quiet that Shiro almost didn’t hear him.

Almost.

“Don’t let the opportunity slip by you now that you know that he feels this way about you,” he advised, looking at Keith. His brother turned his head to look at him, studying him for long moments.

“I won’t,” he promised. Shiro smiled at him.

They returned to sparring a while later, talking about anything and everything, exchanging jokes and insulting each other like siblings did, laughing together.

Ch3

#vld #voltron #lance mcclain #coran #keith kogane #princess allura #alternate universe #takashi shirogane #space dad shiro #he becomes an actual dad #i swear this baby is so cute tf- #shiro has PTSD #shiro is NOT okay

[justmultifandom]

Future children pt.2 (Allurance!!!!)

So… Allurance is right after Kidge! Yes, because Lance and Allura, even though she's dead, for me they will always have a happy married life with children and grandchildren!

Zaphia: Dark skin, brown hair, blue Altean markings, round ears and blue eyes. She's good at piloting and a lover of alchemy and water, always curious and playful, but balancing responsibility to outrageousness.

Alfor: olive skin (that of Lance to be clear …), white hair, turquoise eyes, pink Altean signs, pointed ears. He is outgoing and curious, always ready to have fun and learn new things. Impulsive and quite vengeful, but still sweet and he loves alchemy too. He is 4 years younger than Zaphia.

Alex (Alexander??): Olive skin, blue/lilac eyes, white hair and pointed ears, no Altean signs. He is fast and rebellious, he never follows the rules and always gets into trouble, he has a great passion for light combat and legends. He loves Monsters and Mana.

El (Elizabeth???): Olive skin, pink/lilac eyes, white hair and pointy ears, no Altean markings. She is very calm and focused, shy and kind, always composed. She has excellent aim and a passion for video games.

El and Alex are twins and are 4 years younger than Alfor and 8 years younger than Zaphia.

#voltron legendary defender #lance mcclain #allura #allura x lance #allurance #kids #future children

[dark-elf-writes]

Somehow I can see Altean being aware of magic, maybe they had their own version of it. So Allura and Coran teach Harry their magic.

Also, I can see Harry change physical aspect of people he doesn't like like a certain enemy prince ( Pidge has photos of Lotor with pink hair and dressed like a ballerina).

Another thing, I can see Harry sensing that the Shiro who came back after disappearing isn't the real one and can sense the real Shiro inside Black . So much that he keeps his distance from fake Shiro and spending time with Black lion and chatting with Black

Magical children are like sponges, with cores constantly drawing on the ambient magic around them which in turn strengthens and forms their own magic. Normally this isn’t a problem.

Normally magical children don’t yeet themselves into space and get raised by two magical aliens among their other guardians.

Harry’s magic is powerful and strange. Overwhelming to those not used to it. Practically smothering to any earth magical exposed to it. He is as close to Altean as he can get without changing his actual DNA. He doesn’t get the markings, doesn’t test oddly if someone were to draw his blood, but he is other in a way that sets people not accustomed to him on edge.

Lotor (who I am not sure if I’ll go the canon route with or not at this point because I liked him so much more before he “jk evil all along lol :P”) was certainly cowed by the mini paladin (for all Harry doesn’t have a Lion of his own it is certainly no secret that any of the lions would accept this little one in a heartbeat) at first.

The child is clearly not Altean, yet the power rolling off of him all but screams it if a bit… different… changed somehow.

Their first few meetings are… turbulent at best. With the little one always lurking around corners and Lotor always leaving an interaction with the child either stained an odd color or on one particular miserable occasion covered in powder fine glitter that got over everything he owned.

-

The immediate suspicion that would come from everyone when Harry who used to cling to Shiro and use him as his own personal climbing gym because he was so tall goes cold and distant around him when he returns like.

Also the angst of clone Shiro not (as far as I remember) actually knowing he is a clone could be *chefs kiss*

#the elf talks #Harry Potter #voltron

[crystal-rebellion]

Meep, hello! Been thinking about how crossover VLD/DotU Lotura would react to one another and your Beyond the Stars story came to mind, and while I love how DotU Allura immediately befriended VLD Lotor bc he’s so polite and diplomatically inclined, I can’t help but wonder - how do you think DotU Lotor would react to VLD Allura?

Like yes, she has the same temperament and righteous ambition, but unlike her counterpart she’s also so freaking powerful. Of course he would admire her, but would he also feel threatened? And how would she handle his abrasive behavior, since she could easily match him physically?

Anyway, I was just curious. Love your writing and hoping to hear your thoughts!

Ahhhhhh!

Aaaaaaaahhhh!!

(First of all, thank you, thank you, I'm so delighted you enjoyed that story so much - it started off as a silly crack piece that wasn't supposed to be serious, but ended up creating its own actual story.)

Second-- FUN FACT - I too, have wondered that same thing, and have a Part 2 started. I genuinely don't know if this will end up as a story in full, but I very, VERY much wanted to see what DotU Lotor and VLD Allura would do when they met.

Ahem - since it may end up being a sequel story at some point, and it's a little long, I'll drop it under the cut. But, here we go 👇👇

“What is this, Princess?”

“I believe the boys call it popcorn.  It’s something from Earth,” the princess gowned in pink explained, passing the striped bin between her palms to the Galtean emperor beside her.  “It’s good to see you again,” she added with a warm smile.

The strange man from beyond the rift smiled calmly down at her, clawed hands accepting the strange offering of food.

“Our paladins often bring strange delicacies as well.  I’m surprised they haven’t mentioned anything like this. I must ask them,” he conceded, popping a fluffed kernel into his mouth.  “It appears my advice has served you well,” he added, blue irises sliding to glance down to the blushing blonde beside him.

“I won’t say we haven’t had our differences, but yes.  I… shortly after you left, I corralled my courage and spoke directly with Prince Lotor.  We negotiated a cease-fire, and I agreed to offer to help him take his throne.  You were right.  About everything,” she added with a blush.

“And now you are his queen,” he observed in between bites of popcorn.

Allura’s shoulders rolled in a shrug and she gestured to their surroundings.

“It seemed natural.  It took… quite a while to prepare for the strike against King Zarkon, by the time we finally succeeded, we had become close enough that… well, at least I realized I didn’t want to just stay friends.  Or simply allies.  And now here we are, Castle Doom,” she grinned cheerfully up at him, in stark contrast to the gloomy surroundings.

The Emperor wordlessly popped another kernel past his lips, studying her quietly.

“Your husband has a curious taste in decor,” he murmured, his eyes leaving hers as he swept their surroundings, taking in the vast number of empty seats in the coliseum.

The two sat alone alone atop the pedestal marked for royalty, the only spectators to the match below.  The two competitors were none other than their very own partners.

Allura winced as a silver haired-woman hurled her husband across his own coliseum.

“...He’s going to feel that tomorrow,” she murmured, reaching over to steal a handful of popcorn from the emperor’s hands.

“It does indeed leave a bruise,” he murmured, watching his counterpart stagger to his feet and charge back at the woman, a warcry echoing from his lips.

“Are you worried for her safety?”

Allura’s bright blue eyes flickered up to her friend.

“No,” he answered simply.  The statement of faith marked as the warrior woman quickly dispatched her challenger effortlessly.  “Are you worried about him?”

“A little.  I had no idea there was an Allura of such strength on your side of the rift,” she murmured in awe.

Lotor dragged himself to his feet and glared angrily at his opponent.

“He’s certainly determined,” the emperor observed.

Allura coughed before popping a piece of popcorn past her lips.

“You have no idea,” she groaned, drawing a soft chuckle from him. “I’m pleased you’ve returned,” she added.  “It’s been fascinating to meet her.”

“It was very much her idea.  Not,” he paused, his eyes popping wide as he realized the implication and he quickly corrected himself.  “Not that I didn’t wish to return and thank you myself, but she was the one who spearheaded the research to figure out how to control the rift technology once I explained what had happened.”

“It’s such a relief to know it worked.  I had no way of knowing, on my side.  You know, that you had made it, or that she had found you.”

Galtean eyes glanced down at her and he could only exhale for a moment.

“Oh my stars,” she muttered after a moment, her hands covering her lips when Lotor landed on his backside, only to glare across the stadium.  “Please just give up,” she whispered to herself.

“Do you think he will?”

Allura returned his curious look with a flat one.

“Absolutely not.  At some point I’m going to have to go down there and drag him away before he gets a concussion,” she grumbled.  With a huff, she crossed her arms over her chest. 

“They aren’t so bad.”

Allura’s eyes popped wide as his words, coupled with his prior statement, clicked in her mind.  Slowly, she turned her gaze up to the calm man beside her; so vastly different than the one she called her husband.

“Has… did she…?”

A grin split across his lips.

“We had a slight disagreement about something.”

“Are you alright?”

His eyes widened in genuine surprise as he stared down at her in surprise, touched by her concern.  He studied her expression for any trace of derision or jest and found none.

He swallowed.

“I am now, yes,” he answered honestly.

Allura’s worry melted into delight, another cloudbreaking smile splitting across her features.

“Good,” she praised, looking away from him to regard the combat of wills on display below.

Slowly, Lotor returned his attention to the spectacle as well.

“After this, could we…”  He trailed off, hesitant to ask for such favors from his host.

“Would you like to return to Altea?”  Allura grinned, not even needing to hear the rest of his request.  “We wouldn’t even be here if King Lotor hadn’t challenged the Empress to an Honor Duel,” she added dryly.  “Of course he would want to do it here.”

He exhaled weakly beside her.

“...I like the aesthetic of your Castle of Lions better.”

Allura erupted in a fit of giggles.

“As do I,” she agreed.

“...Allura, I believe, would prefer Altea as well.  She… she couldn’t stop talking about it once I mentioned I had been to a place where it still existed.”

A strange mixture of both a warm happiness and a chilling dread settled across the queen’s heart.  While pleased she was able to offer such a thing to the Empress from beyond the stars, it was a chilling reminder that her planet - her people - in some places had not survived Zarkon’s warpath.

“Of course,” she said, her voice tight with emotion.

She blinked suddenly at the duel.

“Oh, this is finished,” she murmured, rising from her seat.  Gathering the folds of her pink and white gown, she bustled swiftly down the staircase toward the railing edging the wall of the pit.  “We concede,” she called out.

Lotor’s head snapped at the sound of her voice.

“I do not,” he called out.  “I’m not done!”

“Yes, yes you are,” she said delicately, smiling gently at her war-bred husband, her palms delicately folding on the railing.  He stared at her for a moment before looking back at the Empress staring at him coolly.

“I can’t lose to her!”

The queen stifled a giggle behind her hand and she shook her head once.

“You already have, Lotor.  I want to go home now,” she added with a pout.

Unable to deny the sunkissed woman anything she wanted, he exhaled and nodded once to his opponent.

“I… yield,” he ground out, the last word twisting in his throat as if it were something vile.

“Thank you.” 

Serpentine eyes flickered back to his wife as she spoke, extending her hand out toward him.  He wasted no time in mounting the wall to stand beside her.

“You were magnificent,” she praised when he only gave a disgruntled look over his shoulder at the silver-haired woman who scaled the wall to curl into the arms of her emperor.

“I lost,” he pouted.

Her fingers curled around the skull belt at his hips and tugged him closer.

“Yes, yes you did.  And that’s alright.  I want to go back to Altea.”

She turned and snaked her arm around his, leading him toward the other couple.

“The Emperor has requested a return to Altea, does that sit well with you, Empress?”

Allura tilted her head to the side as her elfin mirror glanced her way.

“You need not address me so formally,” she spoke, the lilt and cadence of her voice matching her husband’s.

“It seems strange to speak my own name, but, as you like, …Allura.”

“Thank you.  Come, I wish to explore this planet that is both so similar and yet so different from the one I grew up on.  I am pleased it exists still, at least somewhere in the universe.  In… a universe, I suppose.”

“Have you found other realities?  With other… people?  Like us?”

Brilliant blue eyes were riveted on her spirit sister in wonder, fascinated by the technology they had unearthed.

“We have not yet looked, though we suspect yes.  Lotor mentioned he’d left you the blueprints for the modulators… have you not… tried?”

Allura bit her bottom lip and she turned her gaze forward, continuing to glide side by side with the Empress, their partners trailing silently on their arms.

“I was a bit… intimidated by it.  Besides.  The rule was not until we had taken the Empire from Zarkon’s control.  This… peace across the galaxy now is very, very new.”

“My dear, I’ve been offering you the galaxy since I met you.”

The queen scowled at Lotor.

“Yes but I couldn’t trust you, with all your beastly mannerisms and conquering sprees.  What was I supposed to think?”

His nose wrinkled slightly in a scowl as the blonde turned her attention back to a smirking Empress.

“What?”

She didn’t reply to her blonde haired proxy, but instead swiveled her prismatic gaze to an equally bemused Emperor.

“They suit just as well as you predicted,” she murmured, eliciting a blush from the woman on her other side.

When her warlord husband only laughed triumphantly on her other side, her flushed deepened and she smacked his arm lightly.

“Hush,” she scolded. “We’re here.” She released the king’s arm and proudly strode up the ramp to the Altean ship that had brought them to Daibazaal in the first place mere hours ago.

#lotura #lotor #allura #beyond the stars #dotu #vld #crystal writes

[marcywu29]

voltron heacanons!!!

keith

- black lipstick avid wearer

- ofc he has jewelry. look at him

- him and lance have matching necklaces

- his hair is more spiky

- his eyes have a slight yellow tint to them and his pupils are spiked

- he has fangs just not noticeable fangs

- a lil scar over his eye

- his middle name is prob texas or anthony

shiro

- he wears plaid underneath his suit always

- and his lil cardigans too

- he needs reading glasses but pretends he doesn’t. surprisingly a lot of people think he’s illiterate because of this

- his hair is wavy and never stays down

- peak dad energy

- his eyeliner is not here to play. it’s here to serve looks as always

pidge

- her hair is a bit more flat than pushed up

- a cute lil necklace because she deserves it

- she’s wearing a white shirt and a stained turtleneck underneath

- her eyes bags are because she never sleeps

-she always experiments in her suit so it’s stained

- her suit is fighting for it’s life everyday. poor thing

- darker eyes because she steals souls

allura

- she needed more princess vibes so now her crown extends into her hair too

- more curls!!!! curly haired queen!!!!

- her altean marks are longer and brighter to show her royal status

- her outfit was an array of diff purples, pinks and blues and teals so i redid it to make it more cohesive

- she was too perfect so not much changed except the outfit

- her favorite color is pink and everything she owns is pink or teal

- cats >>> dogs

coran

- only thing that changed is his hair. he needed a lil pony

hunk

- hunk my beloved

- avid snake lover. defends them with his life

- he needed more warmth

- he’s wearing a lil yellow shirt underneath. it probably has little bees on it too

- freckles hunk canon to me

- he’s just a baby

lance

- brown eyed lance truther

- curls!!! for the boy!!!!

- his lil matching necklace with keith

- he buys keith jewelry constantly

- he’s obsessed with gift giving and likes handmaking things

- a painter in my mind

- every holiday he shows up with an array of canvases and hand wrapped gifts like a blue santa claus ready to bless everybody

- he has freckles i know he does

#voltron #voltron in 2023?! #screenshot edits #allura #keith kogane #lance mcclain #hunk garrett #coran hieronymus wimbleton smythe #shiro voltron #keith x lance #keith goth confirmed in my mind #pidge gunderson #matt voltron #katie voltron

[itsthemysterykids]

Pride Parade headcanons before this beloved month comes to an end?

Coraline

Bisexual Badass (She/Her)

Crazy irresponsible aunt of Pride

Always getting into trouble with the authorities

Makes sure to carry around a mask and gloves just in case she doesn’t want to leave any evidence behind

May or may not have been behind the prank where a ton of glue and glitter got dumped on protesters

Literal definition of ‘Be Bi, Do Crime!’

Tank Tops… That is all

… Also Crocs

Wears a bisexual cape

Out of everyone’s league

… Okay, she gone, Coraline simps over every pretty person she sees!

A tall girl dress as She-Ra walked by, followed a guy dressed as He-Man, and she got a nosebleed

She wants to give every Lesbian Goddess a gift, either jewelry or money

Hayley Kiyoko is her anthem

Learning how to Vogue. She’s a disaster

Cannot walk in heels to save her life

She, Neil, and Raz drink the most juice boxes

Likes to yell at TERFs

Definitely one of the loudest at Pride

Joins in on glitter fights whenever Mabel starts them

She threw glitter at Lili and saw her life flash before her eyes

Can and will bring a t-shirt cannon… And she can and will fire shirts at protesters on full blast

Next to Mabel, she eats the most sugar

One time, she had a major sugar rush and almost ended up joining a cult… Or starting one. She can’t remember

Chugs a ton of melted Icees

Wybie

Pan Trans Dude (He/Him)

Has been going to Pride with his grandma since he came out to her

May or May not be a Pride icon

Has enough binders to rotate through the week

Donates his old ones to those in need

This is the only time of the year where Wybie will refer to a person as ‘Hon’

Total mom of Pride

Like Mabel, if you ask, he will hug you

Carries a frying pan around for protection

Is terrified of losing Raz and Lili in a crowd. THEY’RE SO SHORT!

Brings those leash backpacks for kids just in case the others get into trouble

Supplies the snacks

Dyes his hair white and paints pink marks under his eyes to look like Allura because she’s a goddess and people refer to him as a goddex

Every time Wybie flips his hair, a trans girl gets a cupcake

Every time Wybie flips his hair, a trans boy also gets a cupcake

He unintentionally adopts people

Gets asked out nearly every year

People also like to give him gifts

Coraline, Mabel, and Neil ask him to be their wingman, but everyone’s too focused on him

Has the grace and poise of Billy Porter

Participates in glitters wars with the others

He didn’t win one year when Coraline threw glitter at Lili. No one was safe.

One year, some TERFs walked over just to yell at him. They walked away in love

Norman

Agender Gay Demiromantic Asexual (They/Them & He/Him)

Was roped into letting Mabel, Neil, and Raz do his makeup

Black lipstick every day

Also rainbow eyeshadow

Dipper may or may not have gotten a nosebleed

The ghost of Martha P Johnson goes with him to pride for protection

The first time Norman went to Pride, they cried. Everyone was so accepting!

Everyone immediately wanted to comfort him because seeing Norman cry should be illegal

Has to convince Stonewall Riot ghosts to not throw stuff at police

Long story short, one ghost threw a brick at a protester and now protesters fear Norman

They think he has ‘gay mind powers’. He’s not complaining

Has been carried by Drag Queens

Just to piss of protesters for the hell of it, they kissed Dipper… Then they did it again just for the hell of it

They get hugged every five minutes

Doesn’t know which cape to wear, so he rotates

Is a master at glitter wars. Seriously, this kid can dodge. Mabel gets frustrated every time

Hoodies and beanies no matter how hot it is

Raz: Norman! You’re sweating bullets!

Norman: Beauty is pain.

Raz: But-

Norman: BEAUTY IS PAIN!

Dressed as a witch one time (Made sure Aggie was okay with it first) and wore the rainbow flag as a cape

They cursed protesters with their ‘gay mind powers’

Neil

Omniromantic (He/Him)

He’s the Pride Dad, Wybie’s the Pride Mom

Wears Deadpool merch every year

Then he pretends to break the fourth wall

Likes to Cosplay with Mabel and Raz

They went as She-Ra, Bow, and Glimmer. Guess who was who

Rolls around in body glitter with Mabel before every parade

Wears a shirt that says ‘Free Hugs’

Sometimes unintentionally adopts people with Wybie

Likes to carry people on his shoulders

Rainbow lipstick. SLAYED

Teaching Coraline how to Vogue

Always the first one out in the Glitter Wars

Then Lili got hit and… It was a massacre

Eats a ton of marshmallows

Brings a ukulele and sings ‘Everyone is just a Little Gay’

Everyone will throw hands if Neil gets hurt

Some protesters tried to beat him up and they met the business end of a Drag Queen’s nine inch heel

Likes to do makeup

He once painted rainbows on kids’ faces

Supplies extra glitter while Mabel brings the main supply

Pacifist, but will not hesitate if the situation calls for it

Did drag one year. He was good, but not on Raz’s level

Norman’s wingman and it’s exhausting!

Why must his friend be a disaster?

Dipper

Bill Nye the Bi-ence Guy! (He/Him & Ze/Zir)

Likes to throw his old binders into the crowd

Gender envious of Wybie

Seriously, he’s a total goddex!

Only let’s Mabel do his makeup. It’s that sibling trust

Tank top and khaki shorts

Dipper doesn’t know it, but people find zir iconic

Different Pride caps every day

Mabel is zir wingwoman

When Norman kissed him in front of protesters, Mabel had to keep him from passing out later

When protestors attack, ze goes LGBT scientist on their butts, explaining the difference between gender and sex, what hormone blockers actually do, and how not every gay person has AIDS

Makes flower crowns with Lili. It’s relaxing

Comes out every year

Dipper: Okay… I am Bisexual.

Mabel: Dipper, we know. You come out to us every year.

Dipper: Oh… I do?

Stan: Yes! And we love you just the way you are!

Dipper: Well, thank you for being an ally!

Once asked Norman out during a parade. Now the two have a day named after them

One protester tried to hit Mabel and ze just saw red

He had a major sugar high one day and starting singing all the Pride songs he knew

Now people clap and cheer whenever he walks by

Mabel

PanRomantic (She/Her)

Calls everyone ‘My loves!’

Also a pride icon

Drag Queens LOVE her outfits

Beauty guru

She has a vlog Dipper helps her out with, and she promotes different products from LGBTQ+-owned companies

Will do everyone’s makeup

Seriously, her mascara is on point

Hugs pride kids who were forced to sneak out or were kicked out of their homes

Then she buys them ice cream

She likes to knit Pride-themed sweaters and then just pass them out to anyone who wants them

A drag queen wore one to one of her shows and Mabel got over 30K followers on her Instagram

Now people are throwing hundreds of dollars at her for just a beanie

Some say Mabel fired the first glitter ball, which started the Mystery Kids Glitter Wars

Wears Crystal Gem merch

She cosplayed as Pearl and warded off protesters with her spear

Same with her Rose Quartz sword

Dipper’s wingwoman before ze asked Norman out… And it was in no way easy

After Dipper and Norman finally got together, she and Neil celebrated with Rainbow Unicorn Frappuccinos

Out of respect for Mabel, the coffee shop gave her the recipe for Rainbow Unicorn Frappuccinos

Brings her Polaroid camera and scrapbook to document every moment

Raz

Genderfluid Bi-Guy (He/Him)

Good at makeup, but he’s not on Mabel’s level… No one is

But he is a pro at drag

He mainly does drag versions of BNHA characters. He slayed as Drag Deku

Is trying to teach Coraline how to walk in heels… It’s hopeless

He’s been working heels since he was eight. It’s all about balance

Has over thirty-five wigs

Likes to wear feathered boas

Dressed as Peter Pan one time and threw rainbow glitter at the protestors

Fanny packs

Somehow, he makes them look good

Backflipped away from protesters

Likes to belt Steven Universe songs and songs from The PROM Soundtrack

Buys all of the Pride merch he can get his hands on. It concerns Lili sometimes

Hid in a Drag Queen’s dress when Lili got involved in the glitter wars

Once stole fifty candy bars without getting caught

Is everyone’s impulse control… If they don’t do anything crazy, he will

Raz: Oh, the burden!

Coraline: Raz, no one told you to eat a ton of sprinkles

Joins Wybie and Dipper in throwing their binders to the crowd. He just throws them at random and goes, ‘Binders! Binders! Binders!’

Small but feral

Immediately starting singing ‘Turn it Off’ as soon as someone said “light switch”

Whenever a protestor says, “you’re going to hell!” He fires back with a “I’ll save you a seat!”

Lili

Nonbinary (They/Them & She/Her)

Sarcastic Pride shirts

Has a shrine of George Salazar

Will bite a TERF and has a shirt that says exactly that

Dyes their pigtails rainbow for every pride parade

Boots…

Also scrunchies

Draws stars on the cuffs of her jeans

She once took down a protester twice her size and now they all fear her

Norman/Lili: FEAR SQUAD!

Wears a “Queers for Isabela” shirt

Makes flower crowns with Dipper to pass around

Getting a flower crown from Lili is an honor

Acts as Raz’s impulse control by threatening him with a spray bottle of makeup remover

Whenever the Mystery Kids even think about throwing glitter she will hold up a fistful of it and have them crying like babies

Drag Queens and Kings love her. She’s sassy, has nice hair, and is a pro at eye shadow

Will buy binders for people with their own money

They also buy Raz ring-pops. (Sugar free, though)

Once set fire to a TERF’s hair after they tried to beat up Dipper

Supplies juice boxes

LOVES Rainbow Unicorn Frappuccinos

They had a sugar rush that lasted for hours

And the next day, the Mystery Kids were all laughing and no one will tell them why

Wears a denim with over a hundred Pride-themed buttons

Paints Pride flags on their boots

Stole a motorcycle from one of the Dykes on Bikes and went on a joyride

#coraline #mystery kids #paranorman #gravity falls #psychonauts #the mystery kids #ask stuff #answered ask #pride month #pride headcanon #bisexual #Pansexual #asexual #Aromantic #nonbinary #transgender #gay

[magicaldonniella]

JJBA x Voltron AU "The Rivals Story"

Inspired by a vocaloid song "I am the Celebration of Two"

Basically, Jolyne is jealous at her rival, Allura for being Karuki's true love and that Karuki is always giving Allura a lot of attention like what she did when she was with Jolyne back then. So, Jolyne killed Allura and disguised herself as her in order to obtained Karuki herself. Months has passed after Allura's passing and nobody knew that Jolyne murdered her, until Jolyne realized something was wrong...When she looked into the mirror, Jolyne saw that she has pink altean marks. But she knew that she can't possibly earned Altean marks because shes a half galra, half human...When she tries to revert back to her old self, she saw that her back hair had become white and curly which looks exactly like Allura's hair and some of her original hair which are her two buns hairstyle. And then, Jolyne realized that Allura was inside of her and that her soul possessed Jolyne's entire body in order to fused their souls into one...Fear of losing herself and losing Karuki, Jolyne would have no choice but to try to find a way to get rid of Allura before its too late. But, it did not go as planned...Allura moved Jolyne's body and then stabbed Jolyne's stone and then stabbed themselves before Jolyne could even react. And now, Jolyne is dead...thanks to Allura's possession...

Anyway, here's a music video about that song:

#jolyne cujoh #princess allura #jjba stone ocean #voltron legendary defender #crossover #gacha club #vocaloid #sisters story #masa works design #love triangle #yandere stories

[nisaconite]

ethereal / eldritch

it feels ethereal.

in a bad way, if that makes any sense. the dictionary definition fits - too perfect to be real, but in a foreboding, ghostly way. like the universe itself is whispering, something dark is coming this way. the air is still and the world is quiet and and the sky is beautiful, black dotted with stars fading into the orange of a sunrise. streaks of lightning rip ribbons into the otherwise undisturbed horizon.

pidge isn’t sure how much of it is real.

she’s emitting a soft green light, the color of her lion and the trees and her favourite hoodie. the familiarity of it should be comforting, but it just feels wrong in this place. she’s sure she looks ethereal too, from afar, because her friends do - keith red, lance blue, hunk yellow, allura pink.

(she guesses it’s not going by the colour of their lions. keith is the black paladin now, and lance is the red one. there is no pink lion or paladin.)

they touch down on something solid, and it’s - wrong. nobody’s landing makes even the slightest of noises, nobody’s boots make a smudge or a mark, and not a single footprint is left behind. it’s unnatural, and pidge would feel like a ghost if she couldn’t see her distorted reflection on the ground below her.

lightning crackles. it’s empty for miles, and not just of living beings. of anything. it’s all just flawless, dark ground for miles. water, maybe. or black glass. pidge can’t help that her brain keeps trying to connect what she’s seeing to something she can make sense out of, something logical.

they all stare for a moment. then hunk breaks the silence, glancing at allura. “is this honerva’s mind?”

allura’s gaze strays down to her feet, and pidge’s eyes follow instinctively. it’s unnerving, staring down into what seems like miles and miles of darkness, never-ending. and seeing her reflection in there - it’s like falling.

“it’s on the other side of this wall,” allura corrects gravely.

nobody has time to process the implications of that statement, apart from the inherent dread that courses through pidge, because that’s when the… things show up. eerie, transparent flames of mixed blue and red, swirling around their feet - no, under, on the other side of the wall - circling with what could almost pass for hunger.

hunk gasps and stumbles back, the sound melding with allura’s own noise of surprise, and pidge can’t keep the horror from her voice when she asks, surprisingly steady, “what is this?”

she can’t tear her eyes away from them.

“it feels like…” allura is whispering, a breathy terror permeating her words. “like these are the souls that honerva has… defeated and corrupted… it’s terrible.”

there’s a long silence, and pidge wants to say something, anything, just to feel a little more alive, when hunk beats her to it. “of course… we’re gonna have to get on the other side of the w-“

his grumbling breaks off into a scream, his own mixing with something more eldritch in its blood-curdling shrieks. pidge whirls around to see phantom blue-black hands lunge from the ground, claws digging into allura’s ankles.

“allura!” she screams, or at least she thinks it’s her, the words coming out in something so frantic and breathless she can barely recognize them as her own. she charges forward, closing her fists around allura’s wrists to stop her from sinking into the ground. already, her knees have disappeared, even though there’s not so much as a ripple in the ground.

lance has her shoulders, hunk her elbow, and pidge can’t see keith but she can hear his voice, agitated, and then there are more hands. they wrap themselves around pidge, surrounding her from all sides, grasping at her wrists and it’s so cold-

she screams and screams and screams, the frigid ground and hands burning something bitter into her skin even through her armour as she sinks, up to her chest in the ground. talons scrabble at her helmet as another hand reaches up and around her head, and her responding screech is even louder this time. her eyes burn with what might be panicked tears.

she squeezes them shut. maybe if she can’t see it - maybe if she can just wake up, it’ll all go away. this isn’t really happening. please, please, she just wants to wake up. her friends are sinking around her, allura’s head disappearing into the ground. lance cries out, arches his back in an effort to put up some resistance. pidge tries to do the same, but her brain to body filter isn’t working and she’s frozen.

the ground closes up around her.

it’s then, in the pitch black and dead silence that leaves her feeling not quite alive but not dead yet, that she notices the hand on her arm. her arm, which she can still feel, which is being yanked on like a lifeline by one of her friends - keith? she knows he’ll never let her go, not if he has anything to say about it.

she’s still terrified out of her mind, but it’s grounding. she doesn’t feel so alone, because she isn’t alone, keith’s got her. she’s not alone, not alone, not alone… 

if she concentrates, she thinks she can hear him aboveground, grunting with the exertion of keeping her up. his grasp slips, lower and lower and lower until he’s clutching at her wrist, then her hands, then her fingertips-

if pidge could move at all, she would beg him not to let her go. please.

then her hand is free, and the world goes quiet.

#why am i so fucking dramatic #canonically nothing even happened #they just fell out on the other side and started fighting the previous paladins #i think? i wrote this a while ago idk #voltron #voltron: legendary defender #vld #pidge holt #lance mcclain #keith kogane #hunk garrett #allura #knights of light part 2

[queer-crows]

what if alteans don’t blush like humans but their marks just turn pink depending on how flustered they are

#yes ik alluras marks are pink half the time #and blue the other so idk what’s up with that #but i like this #i can just see romelurra flirting and both their marks gradually turning more and more crimson #the others are just watching and one of them comes to the realisation #so THATS how alteans blush #hi yes i have been scrolling though the voltron tag all day and i have many ideas #voltron legendary defender #voltron #vld #allura #coran #romelle #romelle vld #allura vld #romelurra #coran vld #lotor too ig?

[honestlysarcastic]

e t h e r e a l ~ (dress insp)

#can you all tell i love drawing allura #voltron #vld #allura #my art #her moles are pink like her cheek marks! #i have decided it must be so

[slothgiirl]

the medic (keith x reader)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Languages are hard.”

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

“Hunk-”

“Yeah.”

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

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

—————

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

“Don’t even think about it!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh, “of course you are.”

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

You roll your eyes.

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

“I have! Vivian Tran from Calculus.”

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

“And Atticus from Cantonese.”

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

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

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

“Eh-” Lance shrugs.

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

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

“Hey!”

“My nails Lance,” Hunk grumbles.

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

“English.”

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

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

“Ah.”

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

“It timed out.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Only because you cheat!”

“It’s not cheating!”

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

Keith frowns, his hand coming up to his cheek.

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

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

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

“Its been three years,” Lance retorts smugly.

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

“Two and a half,” Pidge answers.

“Ha! You’re twenty! Adult-”

“I don’t have adult acne!”

They’d fought over more meaningless things before.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s clay!”

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

“I could go for a spa,” Hunk nods.

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

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

You shrug. “No clue.”

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

“So face masks?”

You nod, “want to try it Allura?”

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

——————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods, accepting your diagnosis.

“Let me get the medicine.”

“Mhm.”

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

Keith pops one in immediately.

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

“Worried?”

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

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

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

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

“I’ve got to fix this machine first.”

“Need help?”

“Might ask Hunk or Coran,” you admit.

“I could-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“It was only a sprain,” Keith grumbles.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm?”

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

“Keith,” you utter, worried.

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

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

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

Keith leans into your touch, “no.”

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

You were going to have to corner Coran about it.

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

Add cornering Lotor to your list.

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

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

“Mm.”

He was completely out of it.

His breath tickles your cheek.

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

“Oh.”

You look behind you.

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

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

You frown, still processing.

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

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

“If you’re sure?”

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

———————

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

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

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

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

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

Lance unsubtly glances over at Keith.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Matt!”

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

“No!”

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

What had brought this on?

Shiro clears his throat.

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

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

“Pidge,” Shiro chastises.

The green paladin was right.

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

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

The red paladin crosses his arms over his shoulders.

Pidge taps her foot on the floor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh.

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

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

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

Shiro gives the signal.

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

Matt and you get to work.

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

Stupid damn biolocks.

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

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

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

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

“You in,” you ask him.

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

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

The sulfuric fog coats everything.

You taste rotten eggs on your breath.

Inside your suit, sweat runs down your back.

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

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

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

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

“Pidge,” Keith yells out.

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

Nothing.

Matt’s face goes ghostly white.

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

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

“On it.”

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

“Keith,” Shiro yells, “wait!”

“Fine.”

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

He steals himself. “Right.”

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

You and Matt go out to meet them.

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

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

Matt rushes to his sister, “Katie!”

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

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

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

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

Shiro clears his throat, “paladins.”

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

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

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

“The jet pack helped,” Pidge points out.

“Lucky you,” you grin.

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

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

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

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

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

“Very good.”

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

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

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

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

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

You grab her.

Her face goes crimson from the pain.

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

Keith picks her up.

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

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

Keith shakes his hair out.

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

“Why,” he asks, genuinely puzzled.

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

“Oh. Yeah. They did.”

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

A knot of anxiety dissolves in your chest.

“Well,” he asks, “satisfied?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You chuckle, pulling your hands away from his face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

“Starlight.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like for real!”

“Yeah.”

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

You finally hit the motherlode.

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

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

Literally since you and Shiro were the only humans here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shiro nods.

They shake hands.

You stand up, ready to corner Lotor.

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

“Yeah, sure,” Shiro leads Lotor away.

Your eye twitches.

That snake!

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“Wait-”

But she scurries off.

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

Your toe throbs, “fuck,” you hiss.

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

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

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

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

“Anything to spare the wall,” you joke.

——————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was the only constantly dark place in the castle.

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

He whimpers, curling up further.

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

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

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

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

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

“Coran already gave me a dose.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you think Allura minds?”

“Mind what,” you ask.

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

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

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

“Bullshit.”

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

“What if I looked even more Galra?”

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

He was also half human.

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

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

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

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

You wonder how long it’s been bugging him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You giggle, “you’re doing it.”

Keith tries to look at his reflection in the glass.

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s what the mats were for.”

“Still!”

Keith laughs at your expense.

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

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

He doesn’t answer you right away.

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

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

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

You trusted Keith.

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

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

“Duh.”

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

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

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

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

You liked him.

The universe was lucky to have him as a paladin.

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

Could it withstand a hit from a galra battleship?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shh, shh,” you whisper gently.

Sweat beads on his brow.

Whines escape his throat.

“Fuck,” he grunts, clenching his teeth.

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

Keith curls up further, muscles stiff.

You’re helpless.

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

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

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

His hair is damp near his ears.

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

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

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

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

Oh god.

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

You don’t get any sleep that night.

——————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You glance over at the red paladin.

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

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

“Hm?”

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

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

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

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

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

“It takes some getting used to.”

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

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

“Stuff.”

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

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

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

“Sorry.”

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

“You’re hurt.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bad timing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Varga,” Keith supplies.

“Yeah, that.”

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

“Vrepit Sal two,” Keith offers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nab a table outside the stand.

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

Hunk glances at Keith without subtlety.

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

Keith raises a brow.

“Nothing,” Hunk looks down at his screen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What,” you ask, looking over at him.

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

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

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

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

Keith frowns for a second, before continuing to eat.

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

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

He looks at you with a knowing smile.

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

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

They were all so nosy.

Oh fuck.

——————

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

You roll your eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lance is undeterred. “Could go higher.”

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

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

You jab your elbow into his side.

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

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

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

“Thank you Pidge.”

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

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

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

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

You throw him a dirty look.

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

“You okay there buddy,” Hunk asks.

“No.”

“Oh.”

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

Oh.

Your eyes widen.

OH.

His ears had changed.

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

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

Keith ducks his head, wrapping his arms around himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Keith growls lowly.

Lance sniggers.

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

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

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

Keith squeezes your hand back.

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

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

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

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

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

“Our only medic,” Hunk points out.

Keith growls, his hand squeezing yours hard.

You all look over at him.

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

Or maybe she’d make a great poker played.

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

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

“It’ll be fine Keith,” Shiro adds.

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

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

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

Allura nods. “Our chief medic is correct-”

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

Shiro covers his face with a hand.

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

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

“Yikes,” is Ezor’s quiet whisper.

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

“Wait-” Keith follows you.

You ignore him.

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

“Listen-,” he whines.

“I didn’t mean-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You bite your lip.

Don’t cry, you think to yourself.

You were being dumb.

He was just being plain stupid.

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

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

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

“Because I can’t fight?”

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

You swallow.

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

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

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

What the heck.

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

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

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

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

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

Most people smelled like nothing at all.

He stiffens.

“But it’s nice to hear again.”

Keith smothers a laugh.

You kiss his hair. Boys were so dumb.

He purrs.

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

At some point?

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

Fuck.

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

——————

Bombs still pelt the surface.

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

Allura was last, tailing the group.

You reach the bunker.

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

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

The bunker seals and you get to work.

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

The fight continued on the surface.

The paladins had to form Voltron.

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

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

Your hands stain blue from the blood.

Allura works alongside you.

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

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

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

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

It irked you.

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

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

“Is that what you call it?”

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

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

“Another then?”

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

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

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

You can feel Allura’s questioning glance on you.

——————

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

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

You snort.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You know better than to take it personally.

It was Keith.

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

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

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

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

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

“All the same,” the older man smiles.

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

You snort, taking a seat between him and Hunk.

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

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

The whole room turns to look at Shiro.

He had called the meeting.

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

Keith goes rigid, a spring wound up too tight.

Hm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hunk elbows him in the side.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shiro squeezes Keith’s shoulder.

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

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

Your mouth quirks up into a smile.

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

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

“Shiro,” Keith asks.

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

Huh.

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

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

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

At least Keith wasn’t dying.

Thank god.

Thank whatever freaky Altean magic existed in the universe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Keith smiles wryly, “pretty much.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You snort, and join the group hug.

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

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

Keith groans.

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

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

Lance laughs.

Shiro looks convinced by your stellar argument.

“I’m not that bad,” Keith grumbles.

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

Keith lunges for Lance.

Someone topples over.

Everyone falls.

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

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

No one makes fun of him for it.

——————

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

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

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

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

He’s reading the screen with you.

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

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

“Can you even surf,” he asks flatly.

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

“I like the desert.”

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

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

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

“Good for driving,” Keith smirks.

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

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

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

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

“But you do, know it I mean?”

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

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

“Sorry.”

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

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

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

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

Even Lance zonked out after these things.

“Knock on wood,” you laugh.

_____________

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

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

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

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

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

You couldn’t even see their eyes.

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

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

They nod, and walk off without explanation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Someone would find you.

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

They wanted Voltron, but you would do.

“There’s space here,” Acxa calls out.

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

“Of course. You look dead.”

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

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

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

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

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

She nods.

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

Acxa’s brows furrow, “Lance?”

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

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

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

But you’re one step behind her.

Did Keith like you?

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

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

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

“If you’re sure.”

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

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

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

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

You look around.

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

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

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

You wait, wondering if there was more.

It was a lot of changes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

s…it’s been a lot.”

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

But Keith flinches, looking away guiltily.

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

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

“Scenting me?”

He nods.

You take a step towards him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Keith nods.

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

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

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

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

“You don’t-”

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

This was a small ask.

Your gaze flickers to the tips of his ears.

You had washed his blood off your hands.

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

Keith’s mouth quirks up in a smile.

You laugh, “come here.”

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh.

——————

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

The planet was a farming camp.

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

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

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

You don’t want to go down there either.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You meet Keith in the red lion’s hanger.

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

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

“I’m fine.”

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

“Then I’ll see you there,” you ask.

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

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

He raises a brow. “Oh. Yeah.”

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

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

Pidge’s work.

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sure they’ll be glad.”

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

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

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

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

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

“They stare.”

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

Keith sighs.

The paladin armor lies in a discarded pile.

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

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

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

Why did you do that!

God, you were so dumb-

He cups your cheeks and brushes his lips over yours.

Oh! Oh.

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

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

#keith kogane #vld keith #keith x reader #voltron #mine #trying this agin to see if it shows up in the tags #as usual: is this any good? #was supposed to b smut but turned into fluff