#【 a new experience? sign me up~ | open starter 】
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« Well… Welcome home, as they say. » Just how long had it been since the man last stepped foot on these brick roads? Last hard the clacking of his heels harmonising with such a serene, natural environment. More than ten years, he’d presume. Monstadt… A nation that felt so familiar, yet so foreign. The air around him felt as unfamiliar to him, as his appearance did to everyone else. What a cliché situation he’s found himself in; abruptly disappearing only to return in completely skin.
Wherever the wind takes you… That’s the saying, isn’t it? Then Arvad supposed it wouldn’t hurt to pay such a familiar nation a visit once again. The bustling streets, the more than friendly conversation.
Under such a carefully crafted mask— A smile so charming and welcoming, the nostalgia made him sick. One could only hope he wouldn’t run into someone too familiar; though perhaps meeting a new face or two wouldn’t hurt.
#【 a new experience? sign me up~ | open starter 】#【 wherever the wind blows. . . | arvad 】#[ wooo starter for meesta arvad 🏃💨 ]#[ anyone in the area (for whatever reason) feel free to say hello 🏃💨 ]#[ also i don’t have icons pls forgive me. if you have some feel free to use them ! ]
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Buttonblossom Analysis in TADC Episode 2
(Background rainbows: hint, hint)
Ragatha was so sweet to Pomni in episode 2 🥺💖 Most people caught onto the obvious fact that Raggs is being codependant and leans onto toxic positivity on the way she tries to cheer up Pomni, but I still think for the most part her heart is in the right place.
I liked their dynamic in episode 1, but I liked it so much in 2 I decided to write a little analysis on it (plus the ship fuel 👀) in preparation for the romance fic I'm writing about them.
Without further ado, let's go!
Looking back at Ragatha, on the good side, she made some very strong, active efforts to help her during her transition into the digital realm. She checked first thing in the morning if she was okay, she tried to make her feel included in the adventure at the beginning and showed care for her safety overall.
My favorite scene, though, is when the circus gang falls into the fudge river and after checking in on them, the first thing she says is: "Poor Pomni!" 😭 Girlie is so empathetic she even manages to care for someone who's not even there, while she's in a terrible situation herself!
I think this proves how much of a good person Raggs is. She doesn't just help people to feel good or superior, she does it because she geniuenly cares for other people's wellbeing and I find that very noble 😊
On the negative side, she seems to have some very particular communication issues with Pomni, even though she seems to be the circus memeber she cares the most about at the moment.
For starters, her attitude comes off as a little condescending very often. She hardly asks questions to Pomni and tends to assume for her. She hardly acknowledges some of her struggles and tries to downplay them, like when she degrades their experience as "larping". Also, she makes Pomni feel like a child when she tries to "hype her up" in her own words.
If we take Pomni's nightmare into consideration, it seems she believes Ragatha thinks Pomni is not "cut out for it", which might be a result of her condescending behavior I just mentioned.
This makes sense to me and also sheds a little bit of light on how Pomni sees herself as: small and insignificant. It's unclear at the moment how she was before on the physical world, but I speculate based on this evidence she probably didn't think she had much agency in her life (just how she feels in the circus).
At the end, however, thanks to her experience with Gummigoo and looking at the crew grief over Kaufmo's abstraction, Pomni opens herself more to the crew, which is a very good sign.
I think her current dynamic with Ragatha is wicked cool! ✨️ There's a lot of room for growth, which is good in my opinion. Ragatha clearly cares a lot about Pomni and I think with time she could grow to reciprocate her as well.
Despite her cowardness in episode 1, I always had the feeling that Pomz was deep down a caring individual as well, which was solidly proven in 2 with her interactions with Gummi.
On the fanon side, I saw a lot of fans foaming at the mouth (myself included) over the fact that Ragatha was such a tryhard with Pomni (which was anticipated to be the contrary). Some fans have interpreted their potential dynamics as both being shy, which I really, really like.
I believe I will definitely include that in my future fanfic. Another idea I wanted to explore is Pomni talking to Ragatha about her overbearing issues, while still appreciating her good qualities at the same time.
I think it's going to be great ☺️❤ I already look forward to what the end result is going to be. I love mutual pining and I love sweet lesbians caring for each other (even when they're silly girlfails). I'm planning to start by submitting chapter 1 by next Friday and submit a new one every following one, as I've done before.
Get ready for digital lesbian shenanigans 🎪💙🎀 See ya!
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Get to know the mun ! repost, don’t reblog .
——— BASICS.
[ NAME ] : tsun (short for tsundere)
PRONOUNS : he / him
ZODIAC SIGN : pisces-aries
TAKEN OR SINGLE : single
ANYTHING ELSE ? : my dog is way cuter and more interesting than me
——— THREE SERIOUS FACTS.
you don't have to soften up your muse with me. really. i've written mainly antagonistic/villainous/horror-centric muses in the past so i'd like to at the very last believe i understand at least some of the struggle when it comes to having a muse like that. which isn't to say that daisuke won't still try to appeal to some form of compassion for even the most reprehensible muses because that's just the way that he's built, but nobody has to apologize and worry about hurting me, the mun's feelings for being mean to daisuke. if he wasn't built for helping then he was built for a lil bullying. it's okay. i love to see it <- mean older bro/failboy aficionado syndrome
i don't really do starter calls or memes anymore. the best way to start something with me is to either get at me directly for a thread/plot discussion or if that's too scary just make an ic remark on any random ass post and i'll probably make a new ic post for it. or send me an ask and we can go from there since my askbox is always open. i try to do the occasional inbox call but since i don't like my asks to be overly bland and it takes a whole lotta creativity, i don't do those super often either.
if you don't know something about my muse it's best if you ask. really. seriously. DN 'canon' is scattered in multiple directions and multiple pieces across multiple formats, and most eng speakers have only seen the anime or read the manga, which imo are the two bottom-most "best" formats for grasping what the hell is even going on overall in the series. atp pointing people to either my public vs private knowledge post or my canon divergence post is probably the best i can do to provide a comprehensive list of different 'facts' about how i work my characterization.
——— THREE RANDOM FACTS.
i have in fact been with DN since the early 2000/2010s-ish, around middleschool. i wasn't there when its re-serialization was announced in 2020 or so but the first and second volumes will always be a formative memory for me, and the tokyopop ENG translation set i have (up to book 12) has somehow survived over the course of like at least five different moves. this is also probably why i find sugisaki's original, absolute oldest style the most nostalgic/'best' in a way, if only to me. i've also been a vkei fan since vanan'ice started releasing music, immoral memory lost memory has and always will be my #1 comfort song. no wonder i ended up writing dn charas
i like to cook and bake. baking more than cooking, which is sometimes a problem since i can end up baking more than my family ever eats. i'd love to make DN style parfaits/cake cups sometime, i just don't know who's going to be able to eat all of it laksdjlakgjl. but anything to see icing wiz in a cup for realsies!
my life has been dominated by roguelike/dungeon crawler looter type video games. i've probably got literally like ten billion hours on mabinogi since that was my social system in 2000-2010 range (look i know but it was hot stuff back then ok) and now that elin's been released i've jumped from messing around in elona to there, but put me in front of something in the vein of the whole fate/torchlight series etc and i'm probably clocked out forever
——— EXPERIENCE.
i started a tumblr rp blog as a joke for a friend (now no longer my friend) i'd chat with during ~2015 give or take a year. i didn't even care about the chara at first but i've always loved writing, and i ended up actually getting into said chara and the series they were from to write some more/beyond just sheer crack for my friend. i've never written fic for the same reason that i've never written anything standalone tho, that being i completely lose confidence all the way down to the last drop in my bones
i like deep and firm muse connections. this doesn't necessarily even mean positive ic ones, but i like it best when muses absolutely have something. it doesn't even have to be definite either, like the way satoshi and daisuke's relationship within canon is somehow balancing both a killer rivalry and deep caring friendship and just about everything else they always got goin on in between. it's usually after any sort of dynamic is established that i feel much more comfortable sending unprompted asks too.
i have like 50 tabs open at all times and 600 things in my drafts. i did this to myself. but if i never catch DMs on tumblr it's probably because i never got a notif thanks to the 50 tabs, and if i never catch DMs on discord it's probably because i saw it, got busy, then forgot about it til i checked again and bam it's been like a month and now responding feels too awkward. i'm so bad at personal communication i'm so sorry. use my askbox if it's urgent i swear i've never failed to respond to any of those asap. losing drafts is thanks to the 600 things, but if you want me to dig up something because you miss it and so i can respond to it asap i can always do that too. im literally just too tired to scroll to find shit that isn't my most recent sometimes iawjewahjaiijkrf it's a bad hobby habit i knooooow
——— MUSE PREFERENCE.
i've tried to find the common denominator between all of my muses in the past multiple times and i've never been able to find it. i've written anything and everyone from, like, folklore ocs to meta knight from kirby. in general i like to have a muse that i don't always have to take too seriously though. or that comes off as comedic on the surface but i can still handle in a serious and legitimate/realistic way, ie just like dark and daisuke being clowns and a singular failboy but still just. kids, teenagers grappling with very real uncertainty about themselves and their futures and identities. muses have to have a voice, and i'm very particular about being able to clearly hear my muses in my head and my writing, so if anything that's probably my largest deciding factor.
——— FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT.
FLUFF : yep
ANGST : yep
SMUT : hell no. idk how many times i have to tell people i don't give a shit how hot you think dark is, he's physically 16-17 and is directly linked to daisuke, who's 14-15. these are minors. there's 2892859864 anime charas who are of age for you to smut with, get away from the middleschoolers!!!
——— PLOT / MEMES : see all the way above. i basically live in my activity notes so it's better to grab my attention somehow through that. i get shy about sending memes and also am just..... not around constantly so checking dash can be annoying. if there's a meme you have a really good idea for and you want me to send it specifically i've got no problem doing that though. love u guys
TAGGED BY : @cherriedrage thanks zaggy!!
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Guthag GoldFangs OC
Species: Ork
Gender: Female (?)
Age: Doesn't know
Faction: Golden Kilts
Location: planet Amazonia 63-XX
Bio: I'm saying this for the record. Everything I'm doing is of my own free will. As a member of the Imperium's Xenology department, I have to record everything about this strange take in the Ork's physiology. The Inquisition itself has granted me FULL control of the situation. Despite their hesitance in doing so.
My research began approximately half a year ago according to this planet's time scale. Reports of an "odd" company of Orks that were strangely friendly to the Imperium's citizens started popping up. Some fighting was had, but that is to be expected from Orks. What wasn't expected was that the Orks in question were female. Or at least have female qualities.
Their boss, Guthag GoldFangs, was in charge of the company. And after some negotiation, i.e. offer of high quality amasec, she told how they came to be. Or at least as much as I could understand from her. One of the local Rogue Traders had to help me with some translation.
In any case, it started as a rogue Imperium scientist experiment. The experiment was to somehow make Orks less aggressive to the Imperium as a whole. And if possible, make them allies against the growing threat of the forces of Chaos and tyrranids. The solution while strange, seems to have worked. For the most part anyway. Turning the Orks into females.
The Orks while having no specific gender to speak of, do have male-like qualities. And as such are rather aggressive to say the least. By altering them to lean towards their opposite, i.e. female side, the Imperium scientist theorized that this would result in them being less likely to "krump some gits" as the Orks would put it. With long lost technology far beyond my comprehension, the experiment was a success. And thus, the Golden Kilts were born.
To avoid any confusion, the Golden Kilts are still very Ork like. They love the same things as their "male" counterparts do. Fighting, eating, drinking, building mechs, and so on. However, if offered something of value such as "dakka", "teef", and "shinnies", they more opened to talks. In a sense, the Golden Kilts are akin to mercenaries. And as such, even have contracts for those who can afford them.
Something to note: the contracts have a "krumping" clause that to put it simply, break the contract and they krump ya. Simple, but straight to the point. Somewhat refreshing in my line of work.
If I were to point to one of the major clans, they are most like, it would be the Bad Moons. Especially with their ability to regenerate "teef" at a higher rate than others. However, they do have their own uniqueness to them.
For starters, they are much faster and agile than most Orks. This is especially true for their fighting style. Able to melee attack with such speed and precision, it would even make the most skilled surgeon blush with envy. Their shots are no less deadly, even hitting at such distances that the Imperium Assassinorum take notes. To the point that they have skilled bowmen able to hit a target miles away. Witnessed firsthand when one of them knocked the drink out of my hand one evening. A sign of flirting as Gulthag put it.
That leads me to another point about the Golden Kilts. Their female physiology has led them to able to produce not only the usual way that Orks reproduce, but also how other species reproduce. The old-fashioned way as my Rogue Trader colleague would put it. This has resulted in hybridization between the Orks and Imperium citizens.
One might categorize the offspring as mutants, but in truth they are more akin to subhumans. Such as ogryns, felinids, and so on. A request to categorize them as "orkin" has been submitted and approved. I for one, welcome these new members into the Holy Emperor's glorious Imperium.
Thus, I end my report for now on the Golden Kilts Orks and will continue to observe them for the Imperium Xenology department. Will continue report after visiting Gulthag's tent for something she calls "snu-snu time". No idea what that is but should make an excellent addition to my research.
End report.
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BEHIND THE SCENES \ AL-HAITHAM
gender neutral reader
warning(s)! suggestive, mild spice
(keep in mind this was not proof read)
A powerful actress that was able to play a role of any is certainly someone you’d think is outstanding and astonishing. Wrong, honestly you’d like to think of yourself as a normal human being. Whatever you think normal is that is, the way you saw normal was someone you just lived their lives accordingly. But what does accordingly mean? Well not even I know.
But here you were standing outside your agency as you recently scored a new role, yay. Just kidding not “yay”, you didn’t even want to be here today. You wanted to stay in an maybe try getting some actual sleep for once, I guess fate was being a bitch once again.
You then let your heels lead you to the door that lead to the theater, you’ve never been much of a theater person. But you needed experience with actual live acting, which was important with acting in front of a screen as well. You were told that this play your manager signed you up for was rated R, which meant tha something intense was probably going to happen. No matter what is was though you’d be able to get pass it, right?
You then opened the doors to reveal a huge theater with many seats which made you shiver at the thought of preforming live in front of this much people, but if you were able to get this far into the building surely you wouldn’t turn back already. But when you came in you saw your co-worker Al- Haitham changing all so suddenly. Which of course by reflexes you covered your eyes.
“I’m sorry for disturbing you, you can continue just tell me when I can come back.” You ramble on trying to not to sound so flustered but I don’t really think you were doing a good job. “(Y/N) I didn’t know you were so ever easily flustered, don’t worry I’ll allow you to stay. Just be quiet it’s just us here and I wouldn’t want us to chase a distraction.” You hear Al-Haitham say which made you slowly put down your hands where so that you can now see him completely.
You and Al-Haitham have been working at the same agency for a while so you’ve learned to get to know each other over these past years, he was pretty interesting to say the least though. Nevertheless it was to no surprise to you that he had such a fine physique, I mean he was a actor alongside you so it was quite expected.
“Um do you mind passing me a copy of the script, it would be nice if we practiced before hand.” You say pointing towards the small pile of paper that appeared to have your name on it. “Yes of course, please take your time to read through it.”
And you indeed took your sweet time reading through it, your mouth literally wanted to drop. You didn’t know that this play you’d be acting in would be detailed and explicit.
“By your look it appears you didn’t know about this, don’t worry we can take things slow of course.” You finally look up from your paper to see Al-Haitham with everything needed in order to practice your guy’s scenes. You swallowed thinking how awkward this would be, but you can’t leave when you’ve already dug to far. Plus it was already tempting you.
“For starters I think we can start by you getting down here, don’t worry I’ll be gentle.” Al-Haitham says hinting towards the handcuffs placed in his pockets. “Ah, yes of course.” You say a bit hesitate but you followed and got down on all fours like a lost little puppy. Al-Haitham then got his handcuffs out his pockets and placed it on your hands making it impossible to get out. You didn’t have the confidence to face him so this whole time you were facing down, although you wished you saw the look on his face when he was in the process of cuffing you. “Well this is the part where I finally arrest you, we’ll then I’m certain you remember this part clearly?” Al-Haitham says not taking his eyes off you, it was almost as if he was cuffed to you. “Yeah of course I do.” You state bluntly trying not to stutter over your words, in short you were nervous.
Then the show began.
“Well then it appears that I’ve caught you red handed you wicked temptress.” Al-Haitham expresses with a fierce look on his face making it hard to focus. “I see so you have actually managed to catch me good job officer!” You say laughing on the floor on your knees with your hands behind you. “This isn’t a time to be playing around Ms. (L/N) now get down on the floor you can’t just be left here looking like a slut.”
“I am no slut officer, but if you see me as one I am in no position to stop you.” Both of you guys began going off script unintentionally that both of you guys didn’t even notice.
“Say officer, what if I told you this,” You the hear a hum from Al-Haitham indicating that he was listening. “What if I told you I wanted you to catch me?” Now you were really going off the script, but that didn’t matter anymore. Not when your desires were right in front of you, just what else can you want?
“I see, I guess I’ll have to do more than just punish you, all fours. Now.
wattpad: wonderingmishap
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CLS Spark
I'm not sure if I have anyone viewing my account that is in the US and in college but I still want to share my experience in case anyone else is interested!
Today was the final day of the program, we had our closing/graduation ceremony.
When I originally signed up I didn't see much online so I hope this helps inform other folks!
For starters, CLS Spark is a subdivision(?) of the Critical Language Scholarship. It is a free eight week long summer program of intensive language courses in Arabic, Russian, or Chinese for US college students.
For my specific program, we were parted with 大连理工大学. We had class Monday through Friday for two hours a day. Monday through Wednesday was a new lesson each day, Thursday was review, and Friday we would use the first hour for our weekly written and oral tests. Although it is for beginners, some of us did have a bit more knowledge of Chinese going into the program so we were placed into a slightly more difficult class so depending on how the placement test goes, there is a slightly slower option and faster paced one. For my class, we had homework Monday through Thursday. These consisted of a worksheet of our lesson from that day as well as an audio recording. The teachers were all very supportive and sweet too.
Compared to my other language course experiences, I did actually enjoy the structure of it a lot. I will mention all the activities in order and my experience with them!
听写/Writing Dictation - At the start of class the teacher would say 5-10 sentences depending on the script which we would have to listen to and write down. If the script was memorized, usually most of them were direct, if not paraphrased, passages while sometimes they were slight deviations but overall the same thing. After a while I personally struggled with this, I've been a lot better with reading than listening and like to have my handwriting a neat. Because of this I could process the beginning of some sentences but not necessarily the ending. She would repeat each sentence two to three times depending on the length.
读课文 - This one is pretty straight forward. We would take turns reading paragraphs or certain characters' lines. Although we were expected to go over them before class, this was also an extra way to really review the information while listening to other people as well. Questions - Finally, the teacher would ask us to put away the text and then ask us questions on the context. If you're like me, I have AuDHD so my memory isn't the best, it can be difficult. You could give good responses, but some of them do require a specific grammar that was used in the text so there are times where you would definitely need to really get down the grammar or memorize the text properly. If we finished asking questions for the entire lesson and had enough time, we would be asked questions somewhat related to the topics and themes in it.
Grammar! - This is basically a separate class. The first hour includes everything I mentioned above with the first teacher and then for the next hour we would review grammar. It was a lot more relaxed since we wouldn't necessarily have to memorize exact phrases. Our teacher would hold up a piece of cardstock with a grammar pattern then ask one of us to read it aloud. Afterwards she would ask us a question where we could give a free response using the grammar.
In both sections, we would also at times be asked what someone else said sometimes so that we could get extra practice in but also test our listening skills.
The written test consisted of about three pages of varying exercises. At the beginning there was always a portion for hanzi. This was about eight or so spots where you would write the hanzi corresponding with the pinyin written above it. After that there were some half filled short dialogues where you would fill in a response using a grammar or vocab word if it was next to it.
The oral test was a little silly but very open, I don't believe this was actually graded either based on everything I've seen grade wise. Essentially they would share three topics, usually all pertaining to a theme in our lessons for that week. Our teacher would then have a pick a random piece of paper with a number on it that corresponded to each prompt. These were pretty relaxed and if there were certain words you weren't aware of they would give some help if you did ask them for it. They would also ask some follow up questions here and there but usually all were related to what you were speaking about.
Next I would like to talk about culture classes! During my time in the program we had two options, tai chi and cooking. As someone who is a bit more body conscious I chose cooking. It was really relaxed and the teachers were really sweet. We would get our ingredients lists on Wednesday and have class during the second hour on Friday. The teachers were not professional steps so they made it very clear that we were all learning together and that mistakes are okay. With the ingredients, we reused a lot of the same ingredients so after the initial trip to the store you really wouldn't have to get much again aside from like 2-3 items. In my case, my ginger went bad eventually so I had to get more but aside from that I pretty much had all the same condiments throughout the program.
After the midterm, everyone was connected to a language exchange partner. The other classes had two students per partner and in mine we had one each. My partner was studying to be a Chinese teacher so I believe other language partners probably were as well. We met with our partners for half an hour every week.
Outside of the actual classes and stuff, CLS did offer a few things as well. In the weeks leading up to the start of the program, there were affinity groups held by program alumni. There were a couple of different groups ranging from stem majors to lgbtq to poc students. These basically just gave new students a chance to connect with other students and also get any worrying or curious questions answered. We also had a mid-program survey and afterwards and OPI test. Taking even another step back, students received a $750 stipend from the program. We also get access to an alumni network as well as competitive free eligibility for government jobs. I also opted in to receive academic credit but it is optional. We are also considered semi-finalists if we would like to apply for the following year. With all of that out of the way, I will just share my final thoughts on the program. I personally really enjoyed it. Although I definitely wasn't the best student I did improve tremendously in that time than I think I would have while self studying. I also got to really reflect on what learning methods work for me and what don't as well as what my strengths and weaknesses are with languages. Although it was a bit of a bummer, it did really show me how I can make more improvements with learning languages moving forward and that I am really grateful for.
Previously I wasn't really aware of much of the culture either. With how sporadic and random my language studies have been in the past, I didn't really sit down and have consistent and thorough exposure to the cultures of the languages I was learning. This really helped me see the importance of really taking the time to sit down and learn about them in addition to the languages. You get to interact with it both through the culture classes but also the actual language content. From my experience, a lot of dialogues are based off of workplace or social situations so you get more talking rather than background information. With this course, it was different so I really appreciate that I kind of received a double combo with it.
That is all I really have to say about it, if you have any questions please feel free to message me!
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[ hello, rae! i still have some time left before the new year begins for me, but i just wanna thank you for making my experience in the rpc a fun, uplifting one. ofc, i know i ended up taking a massive hiatus from kensuke and couldn’t even bring myself to write him long term (since i ended up hyperfixating over other characters and trying to get more interactions on him was like pulling teeth), but it still means a lot you welcomed me back with open arms!
like, i can’t express enough how grateful i am you ended up rolling with my obscure muse choices and just being open minded enough to explore different relationship dynamics with them, whether they be romantic or platonic. HONESTLY, i might not always be around anymore (due to the fact i have work 🥲), but you are seriously one of those few friends i made that make being here worth it; in fact, i ended up initially regaining my love and passion for writing because of you, when previously, i had lost all the spark i had in it following the nasty fall out i had with former partners… and was deeply insecure over my own writing, to the point where for the longest time, i didn’t think i would actually reach a point where tumblr rp would be a hobby i could enjoy again; only, i’m glad i ended up sticking with it, because in the end, i got to reconnect with you and other people i would never have met/written with provided i never stayed.
REGARDLESS, YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN NOTHING BUT KIND AND PATIENT TOWARDS ME, so in 2023, i strive to not only be a good rp partner, but a good friend to you as well (even if i do happen to be significantly younger than you). but yeah, here’s to another year of interactions between our muses! HONESTLY, i look forward to seeing what mischief and shenanigans these blorbos get up to. ]
Tell me stuff at the end of 2022 or beginning of 2023 because what is time/time is a social construct - Accepting if still want to. Otherwise it's going to be thread replies, shitposts, and starter memes/possibly call for new muns and muses!
Aww, Livi, you are so kind! Thank you so much for sending this, it brought a smile to my face as I read it. As I've mentioned before: I care far more about roleplaying with you and the joy you have for your muses, no matter who the muses are. Your enthusiasm shines through each and every time (also, each and every time Sonia never fails to pester/be a nuisance to your muses so...that's what you sign up for each time).
And while we all hate work (eff work is a common saying in my house), I hope that no one ever manages to rob you of your passion for writing and roleplaying. I'm so sorry you were hurt by others, but in my opinion, never let anyone else ruin your fun around here. Write because you have stories to tell, because you love to write, because you don't know what you'd do without the creative outlet here.
Let's leave haters behind in 2022! If anything, consider the fact that for all the time muns spend trying to bring you down, they could be writing. Creating dynamics and storylines. Improving their writing skills. Instead of, you know, hating.
You're already a wonderful RP partner and friend, I just suggest keeping it up :D And I'm happy to be the older friend/wine aunt in the RPC. I will forever be telling you to drink water, wear sunscreen, sleep, and life will get better.
Consequently, I will also discuss the good old days if prompted. The days of RP and fandom before tumblr. Before social media. Just make sure I have my comfy chair, my slippers, and a drink. Possibly painkillers: I'm at the age where I can pull something getting out of bed nowadays (though I'm probably just overdue for a new mattress).
tl;dr - dear mutuals, I'm old. I do not tolerate drama or BS in my old age. I do tolerate long-term, feels-packed threads combined with dashcomm shitposting, OOC chatter, and wine/tea/drink whatever you want just stay hydrated please.
And like Sonia: I'm not up to date with popular slang. Or being a cool and hip person. Bear with us, please.
#more-than-a-princess answered#more-than-a-princess musings#unladielike#(I vote in 2023 Sonia keep annoying the heck out of Akira Ryuto and Vivian)#(Kill 'em with kindness. And in Akira's case: physical displays of affection followed by 'I happen to love you pls accept')
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Find Love Fast: Exploring Speed Dating Events Near You
In today’s fast-paced world, meeting new people and forming meaningful connections can be challenging. That’s where Speed Dating near me comes in a fun, structured way to meet several potential matches in a short amount of time. Whether you’re looking to break out of the online dating scene or just want to try something new, speed dating offers a unique opportunity to meet people face-to-face without the pressure of traditional dating.
What is Speed Dating?
Speed dating is a social event designed to help singles meet a variety of potential romantic partners in a short period of time. Participants have a series of mini-dates, each lasting between 3 to 10 minutes. After each session, individuals mark whether they are interested in pursuing further conversation with the other person. If both parties indicate mutual interest, contact information is shared, allowing them to follow up after the event.
Why Try Speed Dating?
Efficiency: Speed dating allows you to meet multiple people in one night. Instead of spending hours on one date, you get to have short, focused conversations with multiple individuals.
No Pressure: Unlike online dating, where long conversations can lead to drawn-out uncertainty, speed dating is quick and to the point. If you don't feel a connection with someone, you simply move on to the next.
Face-to-Face Interaction: Speed dating gives you the chance to assess chemistry in person, which is often missing in online platforms.
Expand Your Social Circle: Even if you don’t find "the one" at a speed dating event, you can make new friends or networking connections.
What to Expect at a Speed Dating Event Near You
Speed dating events are typically organized by local dating services or social clubs, and they often cater to specific age groups or interests. For instance, you may find events for young professionals, seniors, or even specialized niches like pet lovers or adventure enthusiasts.
Here's a general overview of how a typical speed dating event works:
Check-in and Registration: After signing up online or on-site, you’ll receive a name tag or a number.
Mini-Dates: You'll sit down with each participant for a few minutes to introduce yourselves, ask questions, and see if there’s a spark.
Scorecard: After each mini-date, you will discreetly mark on a card whether you'd like to connect with the person you just met.
Matchmaking: After the event, the organizers will notify you of any mutual matches. When both parties express interest, you’ll be able to exchange contact details.
Preparing for Your First Speed Dating Event
If you’re new to speed dating, it’s normal to feel a little nervous. Here are some tips to ensure you make the most of the experience
Dress to Impress: Opt for something stylish yet comfortable. You want to present your best self without feeling overdone.
Prepare Conversation Starters: Keep a few light-hearted questions or topics in mind. Ask about hobbies, favorite places to travel, or their ideal weekend. This helps break the ice and encourages natural conversation.
Be Open-Minded: You may not meet your perfect match right away, but keep an open mind. Sometimes, connections can surprise you.
How to Find Speed Dating Events Near You
Finding speed dating events in your area is easier than you think. Here are a few ways to locate them
Search Online: Websites like Eventbrite, Meetup, or specialized dating platforms often list local speed dating events. You can search by location, age group, or theme to find an event that suits you.
Local Dating Services: Many matchmaking companies offer speed dating events as part of their services. A quick Google search for “speed dating near me” will reveal companies hosting events in your area.
Community Centers or Social Clubs: Some community organizations, especially in urban areas, host regular social events, including speed dating nights.
For more info:-
Long Island Singles Events
Speed Dating Long Island
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ϟ main ϟ bio ϟ face ϟ muse ϟ starters ϟ wishlist ϟ
about:
This is a sideblog, and I follow back from my main @grimmusings. Please direct IMs there, since it's easier for me to keep all my messages on one blog. It's also easier to start interactions with me there, where I regularly post open starters and meme prompts. For a full list of rules, see my main. Honesty hour questions will largely be answered IC and treated as anonymous unless signed by a muse.
Torunn is a canon character from a blip world in the comics, daughter of Thor Odinson and Lady Sif. All details vary based on verse, and I'm happy to write her into AUs and fandom crossovers.
wanted connections:
This is by no means a comprehensive list, and I can roll with most muses as far as basic interactions. I’m happy to ship Torunn with other Marvel characters and OCs/fandom crossovers based on chemistry, but unless they're on my OTP list, they need plotting and interaction first. There is never any pressure to ship with me, even if they're on my list.
OTPs: Francis Barton, Ian Zola Rogers NOTPs: Any other-Earth siblings (it should go without saying, but you'd be surprised) Family: Thor Odinson (happy to go whatever way you're comfortable, whether that's a verse where Thor actually got to raise her, or a more angsty one where they're from different Earths), Tony Stark (again, I'm fine if this is the Tony that raised Torunn or another Earth's Tony, but regardless she thinks of him like a father), James Rogers, Azari T'Challa, and Henry Pym Jr. (her chosen brothers) Other: All children of the Avengers (happy to plot established connections in her college or 61616 verses, or new ones in her 616 verse), Ellie Rogers
default verses:
61616: Torunn's main verse, a mix of comics, headcanons, and Next Avengers: Heroes of Tomorrow (2008). When Ultron defeated the Avengers, Tony Stark raised their children, and Thor left Torunn on Earth to learn the real meaning of being a hero. She considers James Rogers, Azari T'Challa, and Henry Pym Jr. to be her chosen brothers. They grow up together, destroy Ultron, and set about helping the human survivors resettle in a post-apocalyptic world.
616: A 61616 AU where Torunn and her brothers use technology created by Tony Stark to take them to another dimension, where the Earth hasn't been ravaged by Ultron and they can live out normal lives.
college!verse: All the heroes of comics live happily ever after and raise their kids. Torunn is raised by Thor and various other ships in this verse, and I'm happy to write in more established canon or OC parents/siblings. Torunn is typically attending college and training to be a hero simultaneously, per her dad's request that she experience some "normal" life.
verses by request only:
I'm happy to write these, but since they're more specific AUs, I don't default on them for asks/memes. Please feel free to request them.
alt!61616: A 61616 AU where the explosion of the interdimensional elevator brings Ellie Rogers and Ian Zola Rogers to Torunn's world. She and her brothers help cure Ellie's symbiote infection and repair the elevator so they can go home.
almost famous: A no-powers AU where Torunn's father, Thor, is a wealthy, famous owner of Las Vegas's most popular casinos, and her mother is a daytime soap opera star. Having been raised in the spotlight and largely ignored by her parents, she's in and out of tabloids and generally causing chaos.
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Biography - outline of character
blog of @runyou-clever-boy
dragon age verse
Gender: cis-man
Pronouns: he/him
Name: James Burgess
Face Claim: Milo Ventimiglia specifically during his younger years
Birthday: 17 November
Star sign: Scorpio
Age: verse dependant but let's say 24 as a base
Height: 5”8 or 172.72cm
Sexuality: bi-sexual
Relationship Status: single
Occupation: secretary
Other: allergic to cat and dog hair / nuts in their raw form / pollen / dust
Traits
Hardworking
Organised
Friendly
Anxious
Fixated
Over-emotional
hey :3 just so you all know a little about me -
I’m 24 year’s old
cis-guy he / him
mixed
bi
Londoner
7 years of experience on Tumblr
who you can call your friendly neighbourhood sleep deprived adult ! well Dommy / Dom is fine too :)
feel free to shoot me a message anytime !
Must be 18 or older to interact when doing smut or anything NSFW
Non selective, my muse can fit into anything, this blog is multi verse & multi shipping.
Mun is 24 and a uni student - so bare with me for my replies.
This blog may contain adult content which will be tagged.
Please NO God-modding.
Please be kind, if you’re rude chances are I won’t rp with you.
If you would like to rp with my muse feel free to send a message or a ask/meme/prompt/starter, they will always be open.
I do like making friends. So feel free to talk to me.
There will be NSFW and SFW content on here.
If at any point I make you feel uncomfortable while roleplaying please tell me, we’re all here to have fun and it’s no fun when someone is uncomfortable.
OC Friendly / Canon Friendly / all is welcome
So with that being said, hi, welcome, and I hope you enjoy ! :)
Plots:
Kidnaping & tortue
Making a new friend
Messy break up
Physical fight
Enemies -> lovers
Friends -> lovers
Friends -> enemies
Falling in love with the boss / sugar daddy
Cute date
Jealousy
Murder mystery
Love triangle
Holiday
Horror / murderer - killer
Marriage
Cheating
Older in age / child / teen
Careers:
Cam-boy
Royal advisor
Office work / secretary
Journalist
Babysitter
Servant / butler
Coffee shop
Bartender
Supermarket clerk
Bellboy
Worlds:
Dragon Age
Rapture / bioshock
DC / Marvel
Witcher
Pokemon
HP / FBWTFT
Lord of the rings
Star wars
Vampire
Wiccan
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Dead Man´s Diary Review (PlayStation 5)
Dead Man´s Diary Review, You're on your own in a world full of danger! You can drink only if you discover water, survive the night only if you have a safe place to sleep - eat only what you have found or hunted. Explore a destroyed world and experience a dark story.
Dead Man´s Diary Review Pros:
- Decent graphics. - 10.60GB download size. - 24 trophies. - Controller settings - vibration, adaptive triggers, Haptic when walking, Haptic when collecting, Invert axis and sensitivity sliders, and toggle run/walk. - Graphics settings - brightness, contrast, colorblind mode, colorblind strength slider, and motion blur slider. - Photo mode can be enabled and disabled. - Tutorial and dynamic help options. - Great voice work. - Survival gameplay. - First-person view. - Horror elements throughout from jump scares to noises. - Lock picking mini-game with each lock pin having a durability circle until it breaks. - The d-pad acts as a hotkey for the menus. - Loot boxes are hidden everywhere and have random loot in them. - The story is the world has gone to pot and you are a survivor in a bunker and got the short straw and must go out into the world to find supplies for the bunker. To make it worse they blindfolded you and dumped you in the middle of nowhere with no food or water. - Your character is voiced and called out but also does the inner monologue. - Button prompts show up as needed. - The tutorial is pop-ups and signs found when playing. - A full 3D world with 360-degree camera control. - A semi-open world that is split up into areas. - Play how you want in terms of how you go about everything. - Camps are used to progress the story and can heal you at the same time. - You have water, disease, radiation, and hunger meters to manage at all times, you can find food and cook up new dishes. - Day and night cycle with different weather effects, you use a torch at night. - Many secrets and alternate routes. - Handy arrow signs help guide you forward. - You can freely walk around an area and get plenty of warning if you are about to leave the area. - Playing without dynamic help makes it a much harder experience. - The game has you opening a lot of boxes, lock-picking car boots, and scavenging for food and materials. - A Geiger counter is needed to scan food and drink to check if it is safe to eat or drink. - You pick up notes and diary entries to learn about what happened to people and some people in particular. - When it's raining you get more radiated and have to stay under cover to bring the radiation down. - Chase sequences. - At times the game will play out automatically. - Stamina is used for running. - Collectible books. - It is a great-looking world that you want to explore. Dead Man´s Diary Review Cons: - No Platinum trophy. - Cannot rebind controls. - The cutscenes especially the opening one cannot be skipped. - No field of view slider. - To make you look somewhere the game takes control of the camera and points it where they want you. - Without dynamic help, the game is nigh on impossible as areas are big and materials are small and hidden away. - It bugs me that I can carry a handful of metal rods in my inventory or two haystacks but I can only carry 3 lock picks! - After using a menu the game freezes for a brief second every time without fail. - Slow starter. - Doesn't always explain things well. - The hunger, thirst, etc bars are on a menu and not on the Hud as standard and you need to dig into the settings. - Using a Geiger counter is fine but you do it a lot and the swapping of tools is less than ideal. - Med packs or healing items are very rare. - Invisible walls get more prominent as you progress. - It doesn't have any survival gameplay outside of topping up meters. - At times you get lost without a lot of help. - House interiors all look the same with the same Interactive points. - Cannot grab onto ledges. - It all gets very repetitive with very little payoff. Related Post: Song of Nunu: A League of Legends Story Review (PlayStation 5) Dead Man´s Diary: Official website. Developer: TML-STUDIOS.de Publisher: TML-STUDIOS.de Store Links - PlayStation Read the full article
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✗ main ✗ bio ✗ face ✗ muse ✗ wishlist ✗
about:
This is a sideblog, and I follow back from my main @grimmusings. Please direct IMs there, since it's easier for me to keep all my messages on one blog. It's also easier to start interactions with me there, where I regularly post open starters and meme prompts. For a full list of rules and verses, see my main. Honesty hour questions will largely be answered IC and treated as anonymous unless signed by a muse.
All details vary based on verse, but in general I play Charles based on an XMCU timeline with 616 plots/connections added as needed. I don't have a lot of experience with the X-Men comics, but I'm happy to learn or read up on your muse.
Please note that he’s not my easiest muse. I enjoy writing him, but his voice is still relatively new to me, and it may take me a bit longer to get back to his replies than it does for my other muses.
wanted connections:
This is by no means a comprehensive list, and I can roll with most muses as far as basic interactions. I’m happy to ship Charles with other Marvel characters and OCs/fandom crossovers based on chemistry, but unless they’re on my OTP list, they need plotting and interaction first. There is never any pressure to ship with me, even if they’re on my list. Please note that I write Charles as homosexual, and I only ship him with male muses.
OTPs: Erik Lehnsherr Other: all X-Men, Raven Darkholme, Hank McCoy, Jean Grey, Scott Summers, Logan Howlett, any canon or OC mutants
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Firstlife chapter 13
Today’s review might be difficult for some; reader discretion is advised
Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions
Chapter 13
“Reality exists within the scope of your senses. If you feel it, it’s real.” —Myriad
I don’t mean to rain on the author’s parade, but some people feel that they’re George Washington. It doesn’t mean that they’re right.
Again, I feel like there’s a missed opportunity for an entire “You aren’t an angel/devil; you are mentally ill” subplot here. But that would probably require way more self-awareness than this author is capable of.
“Your contract will last your Second-death. We will ensure your Firstlife is filled with fame and riches that far surpass anything your parents ever achieved, and in your Everlife, you’ll be given a place of honor inside the palace, as well as any other home you desire. If you want it, you get it, even if it’s occupied. You will never lack for anything. You will have servants, and you will answer only to our King.”
[...]
“But...how do you even know I’m an Abrogate?”
“For starters, you’re Fused with a General.”
He drops the news as if I’m supposed to coo with excitement. Thing is, I’m not even slightly startled. I should have guessed this was always about the spirit I’m supposedly Fused with, not me.
Again, without any basis of comparison, I can only assume that they offer this shit to pretty much everybody.
I think the only person we’ve seen is Clay, who was offered the job as messenger. But zero details on anything else he might have been offered.
“Abrogates are Generals, and Generals are decisive, right? They make battle plans.”
I think the biggest mistake that the spirits are making is expecting for an indecisive 17 year old girl to lead the charge into battle.
There’s a reason why the military’s current structure is based on experience. No more can you simply buy your way into a good military title.
“You don’t know what Generals are. You’ve never spoken to one.”
I’ve personally never spoken to a military general, this is true. But that doesn’t magically stop me from knowing what they are.
“I like listening to your onesided conversations.”
He’s heard my sleep talking? Great! “What have I said?”
“Ten’s tears fall...”
“No. Ten tears fall. The number ten.”
“No. You clearly said Ten’s tears. Your name.”
Wow, it’s almost like her name is a fucking number or something. How weird is that?
“Your parents haven’t been told of your escape...yet.” That’s something, at least.
“Why the reprieve?”
“Prynne has only informed parents of the deceased, and I requested Myriad keep quiet about you. Your parents...annoy me. Your mother is hiding something, and your father is an adulterous prick.”
Finally, some good news.
I won’t think about my dad’s infidelity and the mental hatchet job it must be doing on my mom.
Jeez, no wonder her mom’s a basket case. She left everything she knew behind when she was 18 for a boy. This boy grew up to be an emotionally abusive jerkwad who shipped their only child off to be waterboarded the second she thought about being rebellious. And then the man has the audacity to cheat on her? And then he has the goddamned gumption to say that it’s HER who is ruining the family?
Buddy, you ever look in a mirror recently?
The plane jiggles again, but at first, I don’t really care. Not anymore. When it continues, growing increasingly more violent, I freaking care. I freaking care a lot. The bin above us pops open and my backpack spills out as the nose of plane dips at a more acute angle. If not for our seat belts, we would have pitched forward.
This isn’t normal.
I’m nearing full-blown panic when the pilot steps from the cockpit, a bag slung over his shoulders. He moves swiftly, avoiding our gazes.
That’s 100% normal and a perfectly good sign!
He didn’t want me to wind up in Many Ends. And he might have lost his Secondlife for it.
Chapter 13 summary: As you can imagine, the plane is one of those shitty little puddlejumpers; meant for short trips. I can’t even imagine that it would make it to anywhere in the continental USA; the entire thing seems like a joke. Anyway, Ten hates how it shakes and bounces. She sleeps some, but when she wakes up, she asks Killian to sell her on Myriad.
He promises her riches beyond her wildest dreams, and power to go with it. She’s like “You putting me in charge of anything seems like the set-up for a shitshow.” However, they’re all so convinced that she’s the reincarnation of some general. He tells her that the generals all died in a big attack right before she was born. That normal people’s spirits don’t glow like that. She’s like “Sounds like you’re selling me some real baloney, you know.”
The plane starts to shake real bad. Which is concerning enough. But then the pilot comes out and he’s like “Hasta la vista, baby.” and then jumps out with a parachute. Killian goes to the front to try and land it, but then comes back and says that he can’t. He begs the girls to sign. Ten begs him to leave his shell, or else he’ll have his seconddeath.
Ten wakes up in a strange place and wanders around without reason for 2 whole pages. Then she wakes up again. Turns out that she’d died a little, and ended up in Many Ends, the purgatory. But Archer (who she and Sloan called when the plane was crashing) showed up and brought her back to life. Sloan is okay, and is being tended to by a friend of Archer’s. He doesn’t know what happened to Killian.
#Firstlife#Everlife series#chapter 13#untreated mental illness#Tenley 'Ten' Lockwood#Killian Flynn#shitty society is shitty#do you even know how the world works?#HEADDESKING#Sloan (Everlife)#Archer Prince
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when do I know if I’m pushing myself too much?
I’m constantly looking for jobs, despite having one. Despite being promised future projects to work on. Constantly checking up on the job outposts of studios that ghost me and have never actually looked at my portfolio. I have 37 websites up on my computer, all of them are job postings, and every other week, I open them all and look for a fitting job. And when I don’t find anything, I look to my portfolio and think of what I can do better.
Can I do better. Yes, probably. What do I do? Well for starters I can redo my portfolio. Entirely. I just signed up for a course to improve my craft. I got stuck the moment I had to learn a new program. That sucks. I can’t move forward, can’t just sit down and watch a youtube video and learn something that is most likely going to come up at some point in my career once I get a big gig. I SHOULD learn this program, cause it can make everything faster and easier and I can focus om what I need to do. but then again, its hard to sit down and learn something new when i signed up for a course thinking i wasnt going to learn a new program. never mentioned. so now i cant finish the course, and i cant move forward. so what do i do instead?
i turn around and look at the projects i want to work on. a new direction. i deepdive into the works of the studios i want to work at, and i look at the style and format and how different my experience is with how the industry actually is. i dont know how to make a board for games, gameplay and cinematic cutscenes. i dont know how episodic boarding works, how they put the cameras and how basic is too basic in camerawork. all i know is cinematic cuts with a few pages worth of boards. i haven’t boarded 100 pages for one show, not counting my own comic which is not a film board, its a comicbook. my experience and how i board is based on scenes and directors wishes and thats all. i know little about format, despite knowing a whole lot about it. i cant really see the differnce between a scene in an episode of a show versus a scene from a movie. or i can see it, but i cant replicate it.
so now i lament over the fact that i cant even board correctly. and i cant get work because im a periferal boarder and theres no work here, and theres even less now that the summer is here and everyone is enjoying their vacation.
so i look at videos to improve, but none of the videos tell you the difference in the format other than which way to hold the paper when you board. the shots and formats and camera angle, i know, but what about the buildup, the invisible shots that are basic but not so basic you wouldnt hire a boarder to make? and i look again to the studios i want to work at, the people i wish to look at my work and see and nod and like what they see. so i google them and check it out, and i look at the job listings in hopes that i can apply to be seen and evaluated, but hence i am ghosted again. you need contacts.
and i have no contacts. i have emtpy promises and wishes to work with, and no contacts to actually give me work. i am exhausted (mentally) by looking, by studying, by trying to be good and better and be seen by those who matter. the industry is scattered, too much so that i cant even figure out who could be a good contact, let alone a friend. so i try to build a stupid contact list, try to make friends and make it genuine, because i absolutely hate to be a platonic friend just to be used later for work. but that is what happens, and its not very fullfilling to know that you only introduce yourself to work through them.
they say the best contacts are the people who actually becomes your friends. when your chat looks like a regular friendship with sprinkles of job listings. to talk about something more than work.
thats too idealistic for the scattered industry around me.
so now im slowly burning out while maintaining relations i wish i cared for, constantly jobsearch, and always strive to learn what nobody will teach me.
..
i’m tired
#storyboard#surinnsenpai#personal#honestly this blog is kinda turning into me and my thoughts#but hey all my other platforms are way more public and i dont want to put my thoughts there#so tumblr it is
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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
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late nights (e.kid x gn!reader)
description: comforting kid on a late night warnings: light mention of self doubt
it was roughly around 3 am, when you woke up to an empty bed. missing the warmth of your hot headed lover, you wake up to look around the room. no sign of kid here.
dragging yourself out of bed, you bring yourself to the only other place where he could be on this ship: his workshop. not hearing any signs of struggles or curses, you took it as an invitation to walk in. when you walked in you could see kid hunched over his desk, unmoving.
“Kid?” you called out, but got no response.
worried for your captain, you reached out to touch his arm, but he shrugged you off without lifting his head.
“go away” he said
you sensed that this is one of his several breakdowns he got once in a while. looking around the workshop, your eyes fell upon the cot he set up in the corner, for when he spent days locked up in his workshop.
you made your way over to the cot and sat up against the wall, patting the spot next to you as an invitation for kid to join you. he lifted his head up slightly, just to meet you eyes.
“come here kid and lay down” you said, pointing to your lap.
after a few minutes of silent staring at each other, kid realized that you wouldn’t give up, and walked over with a few grumbles. he laid down stiffly on your lap, but instantly relieved his muscles once you started to comb your fingers through his hair.
“so what is this about now” you said while massaging his hair.
kid stayed silent for a while, before whispering, “y/n do you think i’m a good enough captain. i know i’m not a good person in general, but i can’t help but think sometimes i fail as a captain as well. what if the crew doesn’t really want me to be their captain. i mean, hell, killer would probably be a better captain and a person than me. ”
this took you into shock, as he never poured out his insecurities all at once. you stayed quiet for a while, before turning kid’s head so he could be staring up at you. surprised, he opened up his mouth to object to this sudden movement, but you stopped him by talking.
“eustass captain kid. you are known to be one of the worst of the worst generation. sure you go around wreaking havoc wherever you go and practically making enemies of almost every person you come across. you’re brash in your actions and words and can cause harm to other people who don’t know you. you’re far from perfect as a person can be, but guess what. that’s the eustass kid who i fell in love with. the eustass kid i fell in love with loves the thrill of battle, loves his crew to death, and is the best person i know in the entire world. your entire crew right now joined the crew of their own will, because they saw how great you are. you may not think you’re a good captain now, but no one starts off perfect. everyone has room for improvement, and the beauty of time is that you learn as you make mistakes and have new experiences. so don’t go around thinking that you’re not good enough, because the person you are right now is the man i fell in love with and the man who your entire crew respects.”
the room was enveloped into silence again as kid took a moment to process your words, and you gave him time to think to himself. but for a moment you zoned out, and you were brought back into reality by kid’s arm pulling you into a hug. he stayed that way for a while, not uttering a single word, and the only thing you could do was to hug him back just as tight.
“thank you y/n. i don’t know what i would’ve done without you by my side to keep me in check.” he whispered in your ear.
“well for starters it could always be killer instead of me.” you joked lightly. he pulled back from the hug to give you an unamused look and you could only laugh. a small smile had also planted itself onto kid’s face after seeing you laugh so brightly.
he brought you into a gentle kiss, and you could feel his emotions at that point. the fragility, the love, the affection, and the fear. smiling into the kiss, you kissed him back, and after pulling away, you could only smile at each other.
“so will you come back to bed now?
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