#'they must all voltron together when necessary'

[ramblebrambleamble]

Somehow, several kkomas end up Loose in the Industrial Complex. Secretive Plotter zips them back up pretty quickly, but the whole time they were arguing loudly and incriminatingly with each other and now everyone knows who he is, but, more importantly. There is nothing he can say to anyone that will convince them that he is not, in fact, a conglomeration of gnomes in a trenchcoat.

[autisticlancemcclain]

Keith doesn’t regret leaving for the Blades. Or at least not that he lets himself admit.

He does, however, miss his family. Quite an awful lot, actually. And he doesn’t get to talk to them often, not with his wacky schedule and the near impossibility of transmitting signal at the Blade base, so usually he just misses them quietly, lying in his bunk or looking out a pod window before a mission and fantasising about the things he’ll say when he gets to talk to them again. How he might get to talk to Hunk and Pidge about their latest projects, mock Shiro for anything he can think of until the man gets his twitching eyebrow of rage, geek out with Allura about cool weaponry and fighting manoeuvres, attempt to follow along to one of Coran’s long winded stories.

And Lance. He thinks about talking to Lance a lot. More than what could technically be considered normal, he supposes, but he’s convinced himself that Lance is thinking about him, too, so they’re even. Lance must, after all. Keith knows he has to plan responses to their arguments in his head if he wants to win. And unfortunately Lance had gotten really good at winning arguments in the months they were leading together, so it’s only logical that he must plan them out.

(Sometimes, when he’s feeling particularly lonely, he even allows himself to think about the softer conversations he could have with Lance, away from all the teasing and banter they usually have. He thinks back to the times where they sat quietly at the observation deck together, whispering secrets back and forth, and hopes that they’ll be able to have that again, too. But mostly he thinks about ways to tease Lance until he gets all flustered and scowly, and then about ways to make him smile again. Keith will never admit it under pain of death, but he’s endlessly grateful for the stupid little rivalry Lance cooked up. It’s the most fun Keith’s ever had socialising with another person, including times when he teamed up with Adam to make Shiro lose it as quickly as possible. There’s just something about Lance that makes Keith want to rile him up with every ounce of effort he has in his body.)

He doesn’t spend all his time thinking about his team, though. A lot of it, sure, but he can focus if he really tries. Besides, Blade missions are so batshit crazy that he’s forced to keep his head in the game when he’s in the midst of things. There’s nothing like a goddamn bazooka being aimed at your head to throw your ass into gear, that’s for damn certain. Plus, every mission he completes is one step closer to ending this stupid war so he can go home already.

There’s also the fact that he’s directly helping to liberate thousands of people oppressed by Zarkon’s – Haggar’s? Lotor’s? Well, probably not Lotor because he’s their ally now, but it’s somebody’s – empire, obviously. That’s good for motivation.

But, still – when Kolivan tells him that the Blade he’d originally assigned to team up with Keith for his next mission had to be reassigned somewhere else and there was no one else available to go with him on a mission to some Empire ship placed near a black hole, Keith jumps at the opportunity to call his team and get their help. He spends the two hours it takes to establish a connection with Voltron thinking about how he’s going to ask for Lance’s help without asking, all suave and teasing. He settles on playing it cool, casual, as if he would appreciate Lance’s help, sure, but it’s not really necessary.

Heh. Maybe if he plays his cards right, Lance will be the one asking him. That would land Keith a couple points for sure.

Keith scrambles into a cool, unbothered position as the team blinks into focus on the holoscreen. He has to bite back a smirk.

“Hey, guys.”

“Keith!”

“Good to see you’re not dead, loser.”

“Number Four! It’s wonderful to hear your voice!”

“Hello, Keith. I’m glad to see you well.”

“Hey, kiddo.”

Keith grins at them all, waiting for the inevitable “hey, Mullet,” that he’s sure is coming.

His smile falters when it stays silent. In fact, Lance barely even smiles in greeting, lifting his hand in a small wave from where he stands to the side – almost out of frame.

“It’s good to see you guys, too,” Keith says, shaking his head and trying not to feel too thrown off. It doesn’t matter that Lance didn’t call him Mullet. Keith doesn’t even like the stupid nickname. If anything, this is good.

“I’m assuming this is not a social call,” Lotor drawls after a beat of silence. He stands right next to Allura, maybe a half inch away from basically being on top of her.

Gross. When did that happen?

Trying not to let Lotor’s appearance as a whole sour his mood, Keith shifts a little to look at Lance, although he addresses the whole team.

“The Blade who was supposed to be doing a mission with me got reassigned, and there’s no one else free, so I could use some help.” He tilts his head to face Lance fully, smirk pulling the corner of his mouth.

He practiced. Lance’s lack of greeting may have thrown him off, but Keith is determined, here. He is going to win, and Lance’s mind games are not going to stop him.

“I figured my rival would be a decent enough replacement, since I’m out of options. You up for it, Lance?”

Keith had intended for it to be teasing. To ignite the spark of competition that always lay between them, get Lance rolling his eyes and challenging Keith right back, like they used to do in training. He’d looked forward to the flash of bright determination in Lance’s brown eyes, even, hoped to see his spine straighten and his eyebrows raise.

But to Keith’s horror, none of that happens. In fact instead of rising to the challenge, Lance seems to curl in on himself, hurt scowl twisting his features as his shoulders hunch forward. In contrast, each member of the team possibly howls in laughter, as if what Keith said was the funniest thing in the world, rather than a shameless and playful dig at his and Lance’s rivalry that would usually make them groan in exasperation.

“You sure you can settle for Lance?” Pidge taunts, and Keith is sure she’s only joking but it doesn’t sound like she is. Maybe it’s just been too long since Keith has talked to them, or maybe it’s because it sounds different through a screen, but Keith can’t hear any fondness in her voice. He can’t see it in the team’s laughter, either, in Hunk’s sniggering or Shiro’s chuckles. He doesn’t see it in the hand Allura presses to her face to hide her giggles, and he certainly doesn’t see it in Lotor’s smug grin.

Lance doesn’t see the humour either, shoving his clenched fists in his pockets and taking a small step away from the rest of the team. None of them seem to notice, too busy laughing to themselves.

“Lance – I didn’t mean – I was just –” Keith stammers, but Lance’s face has gone totally blank, emotionless.

“You are not out of options,” he says. “I’m sure Hunk or Shiro would be happy to accompany you.”

Keith feels his heart sink to his knees. Lance only talks so formally when he’s carefully choosing his words, distancing himself from whatever he really wants to say and speaking in carefully controlled monotone.

What the hell is going on?

“No, it’s probably best that you go,” Lotor dismisses, and who the hell died and made him the leader? “We have that training regime planned over the next few days.”

He doesn’t say it, but Keith hears what he means as clear as day – we can afford to be without you.

Lance hears it too, evident in the clench of his jaw and the pause before he speaks. The rest of the team doesn’t seem to notice, all teasing smiles and playful jabs.

“I hope that works for you, Keith.”

Keith is at a loss for words. It takes him a moment to realise that everyone is looking at him expectantly, waiting for his response.

“Yeah, that’s – that’s fine.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, and Keith knows it as soon as the words leave his lips – somehow Lance goes even colder, eyes duller, desperate hope that Keith didn’t realise Lance was holding on to fleeing his expression.

“– and it’ll be great to see you, even if it’s only to give you a quick hug before you two take off,” Shiro says brightly, and Keith blinks back into focus.

“Um – yeah, yeah. Sounds good. I’ll be there first thing tomorrow morning, I’ll send you the briefing after we hang up.” He bites his lip, chancing a quick look at Lance, who still stares forward blankly. “Let’s make the most of this, huh, Sharpshooter?”

It’s a transparent attempt at cheering Lance up. Keith can’t remember a single time when the nickname failed to make Lance smile.

It does nothing. The Cuban only nods once, then turns around and walks away.

Keith doesn’t listen to the rest of the team saying goodbye. He watches Lance’s retreating back as he walks through the bridge’s wide doors, and wonders what the hell was gone wrong in the months since he last saw his team.

[lostwithspace]

@galranrepard

Danika was smart enough not to show off her weapon among the bridge. She concealed it when necessary. Only taking it out when among fellow blade members. "I can see that. Must be nice to not have to worry about getting caught here. Seems you make yourself at home wherever you go, hmm? No having to be on the fringe of getting caught aboard a large galra cruiser much less one that's a battle cruiser at that..." Danika sighed putting her weapon away as she was offered a golden apple drink. The fellow blade gladly sat down as she overhead Rio's conversation. "I wouldn't come here unless our leader advised to. Kolivan knows perfectly well who is capable of doing the mission...and since you are pretty good at making this vessel carry off-duty soldiers for a relaxing R&R it could give us a chance to finally bring the Galra Empire down. Especially now since Zarkon is on his death-bed and Haggar is making Lotor come back...there's no doubt that the Galra Empire will fall eventually, but with her at the helm and her druids...it is taking every once and viable resources to get one step ahead." The blue, red, and white galra had heard of those, like Thace, that were not so fortunate to escape the druids. Rumors in fact weren't even close to what her beloved blade brother. He was a hero among the universe for helping Voltron to escape the vile clutches of the central station where Zarkon kept a tight reign on the Galra Empire. "Good. I'm glad you understand though I think you underestimate yourself as a worthy part of the Blade of Marmora. Have some pride and confidence in yourself, Rio. After all...you are the Captain around here, hmm?" Danika reached over to reassure her fellow blade brother before taking a long swig of her drink. It was going to take all of her concentration to relay the whole mission to the captain of the Moth. She held out her data pad and gave it to Rio to look over. "Nothing that you can't handle. Just spying on this crew here while they are off-duty. If you get any vital information send that to me and I'll report back to the base. I will unfortunately have to stick with the commander in order to not get caught, but if I happen to get a break from him for a moment.. I'd like to catch up a bit if that's not a trouble of course." She didn't like fraternizing with the enemy but it was the only way to get intel, but part of her wanted to also hang out with her fellow blade member. He sounded like a lot of fun to be around with, and Danika could use any excuse or time away if only momentarily.

"It's its own beast living here at times, but sometimes you don't have an option and you make the best of it. There a different fringe you find yourself on."

"I-" Rio started to respond, but as the various names and well known officials started to be sent out, he went a little dumbstruck. He snapped out of it when Danika touched him in reassurance, and he slightly flinched, but didn't pull away. He took the pad and started to scroll through it, catching snippets of the information as it streamed pass his eyes.

"Well, a Captain, but a captain of one, plus whatever I can salvage back together." He tried to deflect the compliment offhandedly, but his voice wasn't in it, shaking off the mental stun.

He knew that their movements were tracked and probably other members of the Blades worked to directly or indirectly work against those as big in the Empire as Haggar or, well, the Empire itself as Zarkon. The former soldier just never really expected to having access or working on that level. And not just big names on one side of the conflict either...

"That should be no problem with listening in. Between the universal constant of people willing to talk about anything to a bartender, and a few of the listening devices I have. I'll need to set up a scanning script for key words or phrases so I can have the recordings highlighted without spending all my off time scanning-

"Ah, ahem, sorry, mind already working on the problem, I'm sure I'll get something." Rio pulled a wire from his padd and plugged it into Danika's, and started the data transfer.

"Um... if you feel it's safe to, you can come by. There's a rotation of when I'm open, I think it's set for after every three work rotations, I have two off and empty of any of the cruiser's crew. If you can't get to when you're off, or there's too many people, there's a hatch both above here and down below, I can show you, that bypasses the public general areas. It's been a while since I've had someone up here to socialize with, even more since another Blade member." He tried to give a reassuring smile.

It didn't last too long as he scratched the back of his neck and asked hesitantly. "So... when you say Kolivan knows; does that mean you actually know of him, or just that you heard that passed along?"

[shirophantomvox]

Random date night with Illumi, Hisoka, and Chrollo

Hello, anon! Ask and you shall receive! This prompt is very interesting and I will try to keep it in character as much as possible. To sum this up, Hisoka would take you to an ice cream shop, a carnival, or apple orchard while Illumi would rather go to an art or historical museum. Chrollo would persuade you to attend a book reading/author signing or go hiking. Depending on who you are and what your ideal date is, I’m sure you’d find them all fun. Going to a carnival or apple orchard is my go-to since I’ve barely been because they’re all in the suburbs. These headcanons are explained much more than the others. That is why Chrollo and Illumi seem to be short, but they’re not. Also, I can’t wait for Halloween because these headcanons are going to be amazing. I am extremely sorry if there are grammar errors! Taking classes on Zoom is frustrating and now my brain has to relearn everything that I lost in 3 months! Before we get started, I have a few announcements.

This post is more laid back than my other headcanons because I tried to keep it as canon as possible.

I want to thank you all for 65 followers! It means a lot! I’m happy to see that a lot of you enjoy my writing and like it enough to follow me! I have a challenge for you! When I reach 100 followers, I will host some type of writing event here...but I need ideas. I’ve seen some pages do specials where you can send an ask and pretend like you're talking to a character and I respond with what they’d say. SEND ME IDEAS! I WILL CREDIT YOU!

I will be stepping back a little more than before. I’ll still be logged in and re-blogging but as far as writing posts like this...it may only be once or twice a week. You see, I’m in college and I’m struggling financially and I have to work on scholarships. If you all send me an ask, be patient.

Voltron posts will only be created based on asks. I will not be writing posts about VLD if no one requests them. I do not receive any feedback from it anymore and no one seems to like them.

Now, let’s get into the post.

Let's start with Illumi first.

Headcanon 1: Illumi has a secret admiration for different types of art but he specifically enjoys pop art and surrealism. He has commented on how surrealism makes his brain twist and his feelings swirl as he tries to figure out the piece and what inspires it.

He prefers not to participate in tours as he likes to digest the art at his own pace.

Headcanon 2: In his spare time, he paints on a canvas. His art style consists of both surrealism and abstract art. For a person with a dark personality, his compositions always contain bright colors and abstract techniques that leave you wondering about his TRUE personality. He is truly a good man with a bright personality but after being abused for so long, those behaviors/personalities have been shoved so far down his throat that they may not come back up.

He has a bad habit of asking you what you thought about every single piece of art you passed. The conversations were great but this is a date after all. The playful conversation slowly turns into a lecture about art. Although you loved your bf’s dictionary-like brain it also drained your energy.

One of his favorite artists is Vincent Van Gough. Although he favors surrealism, Van Gogh’s art style was mind-blowing to him. So amazed that he buys several Van Gogh t-shirts from the gift shop.

His favorite piece created by Van Gough is “Starry Night”.

He notices that you are becoming bored and decides that it is time for MORE excitement, one that you are certain to enjoy.

“Where are we going,” you ask, pretending to be interested.

“Down to the basement. We are going to have a bite to eat.”

Since Illumi rarely smiled, when he did smile it drove you wild. The anticipation of what his next move was going to be is what drove that wildness. Being a bounty hunter was thrilling already but dating a smart, badass assassin was totally out of your league but it worked out.

Headcanon 3: Illumi’s idea of being romantic is dramatically different from yours. He believes just spending time with you on the couch was enough. He is correct; but if you have the time and funds, your time together should be a little spontaneous. You insisted on dates outside of the house because his family will not stay out of your business.

“Illumi, I am too hungry for more trivia.”

He chuckles. “Don’t worry. So am I. That is why I’ve decided to take you to a wine and cheese party.”

Huh? Wine and Cheese at 3PM? That’s ok. When was there a time limit on when you can drink alcohol?

Illumi has indirectly attended parties as such when he was 15 years old. He never drank, but he watched as his mother’s friends (surprisingly) talked about business and their children. This time, you weren’t going to talk about business for once. Instead, you two were going to actually talk about what couples discuss.

Headcanon 4: When introduced to alcohol for the first time, Illumi immediately stated how he hated brown liquor. That includes Hennessy, Jack Daniels, etc. It makes him sick to his stomach. He prefers to drink Smirnoff mixed with fruity drinks like strawberry or pineapple.

He loves it when you make these drinks for him on a summer day.

Hence the title wine and cheese, you both go to a stand-up table, place your brochures down, and actually have a wonderful conversation not involving work or hunting.

Illumi smiled a few times, more than usual. Whenever he appears to be softer even around you, that is because he has mellowed out and doesn't have the overbearing weight of his family on his shoulders. You set him free.

Hisoka

According to a one-shot that another manga artist created, they expressed that Hisoka was found on the side of the road, was taken in by someone that worked at a local circus, and learned Nen in a matter of days. Hisoka’s clown look and having the skills of a magician proves that this has to be canon in some way.

Headcanon 1: Given this potential backstory, going to a carnival is his go-to every summer. He wants to take you to a circus but saves that for you as an engagement gift.

Everyone with a heart knows that whether or not you’re in a relationship or not the carnival is fun as hell! Expensive fried food, elephant ears, funnel cake, ICEE’s, rides, and stuffed animals are to die for!

Being at a carnival relaxes him so his bloodlust isn’t activated unless someone bumps into him and causes a scene.

Headcanon 2: PDA is something that Hisoka does well; he doesn’t overdo it but does it enough where people get the impression that you are a couple and aren’t “best friends”.

While completing a mission depending on how rough it may be, he insists that you tag along to see how he handles the situation. You’ve already seen his ruthlessness from Hunter’s exam but he insists.

His sense of pride gets the best of him sometimes. Sometimes his head is so big that it reminds you of a large birthday balloon.

Headcanon 3: ANYWAY, given his nature, he is very adventurous, dangerous, and courageous. If he wants to go on the Demon Drop, he’ll do it and you DO not have a choice in the matter. He’ll tease or guilt trip you into doing something that you would not like to do.

“Well, you wouldn’t want me to cling on to someone else, would you?”

“No. Of course not,” you reply.

“Let’s go then, scaredy-cat.”

As a hunter, you’ve seen worse. Why are you so afraid to go on a ride?

Headcanon 4: At apple orchards, cornfield mazes are one of his favorites. You cannot for the life of you figure out how to get out but he can. He grabs a scarecrow and scares you from behind. That annoys you but is nothing compared to later on that night.

Oh. My. God. It’s haunted house time!

“Hisoka, I’m not going in!”

“Why not? I’ll protect you.”

“Because they’re monsters and I already have to deal with one.”

It took him a second to catch on that you were talking about him.

“That’s going to bite you in the butt, kitten.”

Headcanon 5: Like Killua, Hisoka has a sweet tooth. Don’t allow his buff appearance to fool you!

He LOVES caramel apples, elephant ears, funnel cake, freshly squeezed lemonade, fudge, and cotton candy. How can this man manage to stay in shape? The world may never know.

Headcanon 6: He isn’t one to play by other people’s rules but he sets his own rules with your relationship that you both must obey. One of those rules says that neither of you can be on your phones while together.

Headcanon 7: Hisoka insists that you both wear either matching pants or matching shirts to avoid unnecessary flirtation.

He isn’t jealous but on “us time”, he doesn’t want to lose a single second.

Headcanon 8: Hisoka only jumps in when necessary. Given that you’ve passed the hunter’s exam and work as a bodyguard, he knows you can handle your business. If the person can’t take a hint, then he steps in. They almost back up immediately considering Hisoka is towering over them.

When the moon shines, you both go to the car and off to sleep in your comfy king-sized bed.

Chrollo

We all know that Chrollo loves to read! What does he specifically like to read? What Genre? Does he like to read alone or with other people?

Although Chrollo is a thief and must be hidden in the shadows, the authorities have called off the search for him for at least 3 years. Slowly but surely, he begins to find himself in the outside world again.

Chrollo once discussed a book with the Phantom Troupe when they were being transported to another place for a mission. He read “Tears of a Tiger” by Sharon M. Draper.

The reading sessions are opened with an affirmation and a reason to be thankful to be alive. He says he is thankful for the troupe, glances at you, and smiles. No one catches on to that sly face except for Phinks.

Headcanon 1: Chrollo is very silent and shy to an extent. He only associates with people he knows and trusts. You are the social butterfly at this moment.

Chrollo tags along behind you like a shy child, holding your hand while you stick out your free hand to greet everyone.

Today, the book club was going to read “Divergent”.

Headcanon 2: Although he loves to read, he hates it when others read out loud. Most people are drably read and it annoys him. After a while, he takes over. Chrollo was tense the first 30 minutes of the meeting because two cops were there but neither of them noticed it was him.

Headcanon 3: Chrollo often acts the part of the character that he is reading in the book. His tone, attitude, and emphasis on certain words keep the group engaged. He is complimented on his acting!

“Good Job, honey,” you whisper.

He responds by tightly squeezing your hand.

His tone was so impressive that the host insisted that he read for the entire night. He was ok with that because in between reads he was often distracted by a lovely pair of jeans and shoes you had on. You were into writing, so hearing others read and act out the characters helped.

Headcanon 4: In some settings, Chrollo is very braggadocious. He insisted that the group read one of your stories so you could be provided with feedback.

“We’d be delighted to view your story, y/n!”

“It will be fun!”

The book club wasn’t a stereotypical club that only consisted of soccer moms but instead consisted of men and women who were involved with a business, law enforcement, health, etc. This was an open space for everyone to relax and forget about their demanding jobs.

After the meeting, the group went to dinner at a nearby pizzeria. You all enjoyed large pizzas, beer, salads, and dessert. How could your stomach (or anyone’s stomach) hold that much?

Chrollo laughed so much that it made you question if he was your actual boyfriend or not. He even engaged in conversations with the two off-duty cops! For once, you helped Chrollo experience the greater things in life; true love, friendship, and happiness.

“Thank you,” he whispered and slyly placed a kiss on your hand. “For everything.”

[malikismindful]

Peace and Love, Black Family! If you were a teenager in the 90's, there is no way you don't know who and what Voltron is or was. I remember getting home in just enough time to catch it before watching "Yo' MTV Raps!" At such a young age, I didn't understand how vital it was for each part to work in as one body for one common cause. As I grew in Knowledge of Self, it became ever so apparent that this is what has always been necessary for Afrikan people worldwide. Unfortunately, we all don't have the same ideas when it comes to approaching Black Liberation, and maybe we do? What I do know is that some of us believe that you need to be unified with an organization in order to have a greater chance of achieving revolutionary outcomes. Some of us believe in organizations due to the corruption and power hunger that comes along with so-called organizations. Regardless, what must be understood is that Black people must come together under the banner of our complete and total liberation. Anyone ever wonder or ask why the Moorish Science Temple, the NOI, the Nation of Gods and Earths, the Hebrew Israelites, the Garveyites, the New Black Panther Party, the Afrikan Peoples Revolutionary Party, and the Afrikan centered mosques & churches aren't working as ONE BODY! Do they all want credit for the resurrection of OUR PEOPLE? Why is it that these organizations that promote holistic Black consciousness fail to organize their people as one government? I, personally, may not agree with some approaches that these organizations have, but I know they are all aware that our people are suffering in all four corners of the Earth! What we need is to unify under the banner of BLACK LIBERATION---PERIOD! Until then, we will stay in the position we are in, bitching about the kooning and bafooning that continues to keep us entertained. GET ON CODE. STAY ON CODE.🩸💣🔫✊🏾 BLACK POWER! #blackpower #blacklove #blackman #blackwoman #blackempowerment #blackrevolution #oncode #blackpeopleonly #blackfathers #blackrevolutionary #power #truth #knowledge #blackconsciousness #freedom #strategy #blackunity #blacksunite #blacknationalism #african #panafrican #blackpeople #blackowned #malikismindful https://www.instagram.com/p/CbtH4RDu7aCT0xFDWLhzMQibACELQ6L5QJ3lJQ0/?utm_medium=tumblr

[starfaring-princelotor]

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First Scent

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Summary: Emperor Lotor makes a full recovery.

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

★ Warnings: N/A

Touch Series: Part One___Part Two___Part Three___Part Four___Part Five

Taste Series: Part One___Part Two___Part Three___Part Four___Part Five

Sight Series: Part One___Part Two___Part Three___Part Four___Part Five

Scent Series: Part One

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“We are all on the same side. It doesn’t have to change our future together.”

Kylan would never dare consider doubting Lotor, but he was also no fool to leave loose ends hanging, so to speak. He worked along with their leader and his intentions - his goal - was always about keeping Alteans and the invaluable culture of said race alive. Against all odds, all naysayers and doubters, he kept to it. And he succeeded. 

“You enslaved countless Alteans! How many innocent lives did you destroy?!”

Slaves? No. They were not slaves. They were not treated as such. If anything, they were flourishing and well on their way to becoming a better society than the one led by King Alfor. The progress was well on the way and the future looked bright. So, what happened? He needed to hear it, needed to have the physical evidence right in front of him. 

“Surely, you can see the greatness we’ve already accomplished -”

The audio distorted then, signifying Sincline was most likely damaged from an unsuspecting attack. 

“-llura, stop! You and I - zzt - Altean culture. We were meant - kkzzt -”

The black box was heavily damaged. Being exposed to the elements, especially quintessence, no doubt rendered it beyond repair. Except, Kylan knew how to save the proof and secure the device for future use. Plan B. Have a backup. Always have a back up. 

“You’re more like Zarkon than I could have imagined.”

He closed his eyes slowly, releasing a solemn and heavy sigh of disappointment. He wasn’t going to say he knew everything, even if the hidden picture was revealed right in front of him. No, what he has here ultimately didn’t matter in terms of putting Lotor back on the throne. 

“Who are you to question my tactics - “

But it was enough to clear his name. It was enough to show that Voltron started a whole new, deadly, and severely costly war by attacking the Emperor. 

*

They had suggested putting him in a pod to stabilize his quintessence levels. Lotor’s soul may have returned, but that doesn’t mean his body was in a relatively safe state. Logically, it made sense to use the technology at hand to quicken the process, but you convinced them to keep him on a bed instead. Convinced was putting it lightly. You wouldn’t move on your decision, even if it meant using logic as a tool to get what was best for Lotor.

“I will siphon it from him, as I do with the other patients,” you explained, “It’s safer this way.” 

It was your reasoning and also what you used to convince yourself, too. Your hand was loosely holding his as the steady flow of quintessence ebbed through the contact. When he had collapsed from exhaustion in your arms, you already knew that a confined space wouldn’t do well for his recovery. He needs to wake up naturally in a comforting environment, somewhere open, somewhere...safe. You promised him that at the very least. 

But the longer you stayed with him, the more you came to the haunting realization at exactly how bad it was for the Galra Emperor. His skin was shriveled, no doubt either from over exposure or the action of his soul literally being sucked out of his body. Maybe even both. But the inside is what worried you the most. Starvation. His organs were scarily dehydrated. Lotor’s system was off for so long, you weren’t sure he could even eat anything nourishing. 

And, oddly enough, there were times you couldn’t...see him as a patient. You saw him as something more, something beyond just Emperor. Allowing those buried thoughts to unfurl left your stomach stirring in uneasiness. 

Lotor wasn’t talkative. Recovery was slow and, sometimes, he barely woke up long enough to sip water or open his mouth for ice chips. You weren’t even sure if he was coherent enough to answer the typical questions for patients who experienced such acute delirium. Do you know who you are? Where you are? What happened?

No. No, overflowing with too much would stunt his progress. Plus, you often found yourself hesitating to even speak with him. Maybe it was wrong of you to take advantage of his illness to push your own discomfort away. If he didn't ask, you don’t need to answer. But there were urgent questions lingering between you two and you know they will come around to rear its ugly head eventually. You’ll have to face them, whether you like it or not. You’ll have to hear what he has to say. What you’ll say. What you’ll feel. 

But...

Lotor first. Your thumb ran over his knuckles softly, gaze longingly focused on your conjoined hands. Lotor first. That’s how it felt like when trapped in Sincline’s…

*

The Black Paladin has seen many haunting horrors in his life, but nothing will be more traumatic than seeing his own body as a corpse. No...his alternate self was alive, he just looked shriveled and sick and rotten. Sunken eye sockets, skin blemishes from what he knows as quintessence burn. The bite marks, oh, there were so many torn in his suit. Different sizes, different states of decay. 

But he was safe and, more importantly, alive. Now, the matter of what state his mind will be in is something not even he can help with. 

“I will pass the message on to the doctor once Emperor Lotor is in stable condition,” Kylan accepted the letter handed to him by the Black Paladin then carefully slid it into his coat pocket, “Thank you, again. You have done us a great honor. Saved us all, actually.”

Yet, as much as he would like to accept such gratefulness, he couldn't help but keep his lips set in a firm line. Saved them? Or condemned them? This war in his reality wasn’t theirs to deal with, but wouldn’t it be just as neglectful and dispassionate to allow the hoktril to be exposed to other realities? A double edged sword. Damned if he does, damned if he doesn't. 

“I only hope that his return was not too late. Unfortunately, time does not appear to be on our side as of late.”

Kylan nodded in agreement, “You have your duties, we have ours. And yours must be urgent if you need to leave so soon.”

Nebulous orbs slowly closed, easily remembering the scribble he quickly jotted down for your eyes only. A message, a dire one, explaining why his leave of absence was absolutely necessary, but not for the reason anyone would assume. The Black Paladin had received a distress call, one he had not heard from in a very, very long time, and he had every intention to answer it. Sven’s voice rang in his ears clearly, as if he was standing right behind him. His hushed whispers panicked from hiding. He knows the tone well.

“I implore you to use the communication stone with utmost discretion. However, as soon as matters have settled here,” Paladin Lotor gave a wave, a vague gesture at all of this, “Let me know when your forces are ready to fight.”

He gave a noble, respectful bow. He shouldn’t have regrets, but perhaps he had one nagging the back of his head. Chewing on his tongue, he wonders if it was his cowardice that told him it was better to leave without telling you face to face. 

*

If there was one thing Emperor Lotor despised about hospitals, it was the smell. The acute, sanitized scent of alcohol and sterilization never brought him comfort when awake. Even now, during every odd moment he would rouse from a deep comatose-like state, he found it absolutely much worse. The air was cold, chilling his nostrils, yet there was a warm blanket covering most of his body, all the way up to his shoulders. Warmth...something he cherishes now that he had the cold touch of death’s finger beckon his soul from his body. 

It took days for him to realize he was alive, longer to know that the doctor had dutifully tended to his recovery. It wasn’t easy, regaining his senses and awareness. His thoughts were slow, as if relearning everything that which went dormant in his mind. Words, thoughts, actions, feelings. Feelings...like your hand gently clutched in his. Not at all unlike that memory of falling in a pit of darkness, tethered by the mere simple contact of entwined fingers. 

And damn, to remember that utopia-esque simulation. Was it a simulation? It all felt too real. Too perfect, too...happy, one he thinks he will never really get to experience ever again. That love, that peaceful life, that completion. At the time, he didn't question it. Who would? But now, now as you read the holographic screen and scanned the details about his vitals in silence, he has so many to ask you.

Was it a hedonistic crime to still feel that inkling of love as he stared fondly at you? 

Or maybe...that was just a lingering side-effect. A sort of after-high from being forced into an addictive drug-induced state of mind from a mere memory. 

You knew he was awake. Lotor made it clear with his silent shifting, a gentle squeeze of his hand in yours, and a slight, almost quiet, groan of discontent when he felt his body ache in the worst possible ways. Part of him would've chuckled at the thought that maybe you were avoiding him, or rather, avoiding looking at him. Then another part would caution that it was wise of you to do so, for both yours and his sake. 

Maybe, just like him, neither of you were ready to ask questions about the intimate life you shared. Maybe if he kept his mouth shut, both of you can pretend it didn’t happen. It was a trick. A ruse, a test. One conjured deep from within the heart’s desires and brought to the surface without warning or care. 

The light above was dimmed in a cool blue hue, offering him a sense of peace and tranquility, but what really helped calm his nerves was the smell of a warm cup of hot chocolate wafting through the air. A promised treat, giving him the freedom to choose if he wanted to drink or simply hold it in his hands. And yet, he didn't reach for it.

Lotor reached for your hand. You gave it willingly, almost instinctively, and he was quite aware of how his heart beat just a little louder at the gesture. Lotor wasn’t sure he liked that or not. Well, he did, but he shouldn't. He really shouldn't because it was wrong to harbor such feelings for you considering the circumstances. But the heart wants. The heart yearns. 

Lotor can control it. He swears he can. 

So many unspoken words between you two, yet silence was clearly winning here. Then again, he can’t complain too much. Or at all, really. Your thumb slowly roving over his knuckles was nearly entrancing. The simple touch made his body compliant, whether because it was you or because the action itself was an unconscious act on its own, he would never find out. 

You stopped suddenly then gave him a light squeeze, “How are you feeling?”

“I’ll be…” he paused, recalling how he felt when falling out of that cockpit, the panic, the pain, the cold, so, so cold, “fine.”

And while normally, those few words would be firm confirmation that you’ve done your job flawlessly well, you can’t help but let your heart seed doubt in your mind.

“And you, good doctor?” 

Was he asking about your health or how you felt coming out of that life-like experience?

You twisted your wrist, closing the holographic screen before giving him your full attention, “Coming back to life is not what I expected, but neither was dying. It was different than-”

A twinge in your shoulder pulsed, reminding you of the last time you danced with death so romantically. 

“I recovered faster than you. Kylan informed me i was gone for a mere few minutes. Clearly not long enough for all the heat to leave my body, but long enough to give him a fright.”

Lotor had a certain look behind his eyes, a certain longing for the truth. You turned away.

*

It’s been a week. The metaphorical wall was back up. But it wasn't just you that decided avoidance was the best course of action for now. He, too, opted to shove those unanswered questions in the back of his mind as far as he could. Lotor only wondered exactly how long he can let it fester. How long you could let it fester. Maybe the two of you were more alike than you want to admit. 

When the deepest, most intimate, most raw secrets and desires surface, that exposed vulnerability suddenly becomes a dangerously choking weak point. Becomes something to fear. Becomes tangible and no longer yours to hide. But to acknowledge such a thing now? What? Were you two going to sit and talk about it? Have a coffee date and reminisce of those fake nights of feeling safe in each other’s arms?

No. It was much easier, much smarter, to stay focused on the goal. It was more important. 

Was it awkward? Not at all. You dressed him in silence with careful fingers, wary that the lightest of touch could bruise his still-healing body, and he watched the concentration consume your task. Such a simple thing spoke volumes to the careful observer. Lotor was the patient. You were the doctor. Play the roles well and everything will be fine. 

But just to be sure…

“We are not going to talk about this, are we?” he asked his one question, voice just a tad lower than normal, meant only for you to hear. 

Slipping the new bracelet around his wrist, you waited a few moments until the indicator glowed green, “No. Not now.”

Lotor’s hands went slack at his side, a sign of obedient understanding. He offered his hand to you, not as a gesture of intimacy. It was for his health, of course. His quintessence levels were still a little high. He was sick, still out of sorts, and a full recovery only worked if kept to schedule. 

For his health, you told yourself as the two of you walked out of the room hand in hand. 

*

“Dear Esteemed Doctor,

By the time you receive this letter, I will no longer be in your reality. I have been called back with urgent news and must return post haste. Please accept my humblest apologies for the sudden leave. If I had the time, I would have stayed to offer you my aid at any cost. With your Emperor under your care, I have no doubt that the next step with our alliance will be needing as much resources and command as possible. Rallying the forces as soon as possible will be difficult, though if there is any advice I may impart with, it is this: 

Galra are survivors, through and through. 

When civil wars raged upon our brothers and sisters, history has repeatedly shown that it is not the toughest fighter who wins. Rather, it is the one who fights to protect the one at their side. 

I look forward to seeing you once more in the near future. Please, stay safe.

Sincerely,

Lotor”

His handwriting was eloquent, not a curve or line extending awkwardly in the entire paragraph. At first glance, anyone would take in the script as romantic at face value, but the prose itself was completely opposite. He wasn’t here anymore and, as the Black Lion Paladin, of course the he had to tend to his duties. With Voltron, no doubt a shining beacon of hope for those suffering in his reality, he couldn't risk squandering his time. 

You folded the letter then pocketed it in your coat, waiting for orders from Emperor Lotor, who was sitting at the helm of the ship and staring deeply off into space. Kylan had updated him about the current situation. Colonies displaced, warlords razing worlds for their own, Haggar’s search for him. That last one put him on edge. Yes, he’s well aware you worked for her, but he is also aware of your need for self-perseverance.

Or perhaps, it was for a completely different reason? If Sincline utilizes memories from souls, then he should’ve seen his mother’s memories mixed in yours, as well. Assuming, of course, you were brainwashed like his previous... 

Lotor isn't such a naive fool to believe you would never lie in the face of certain death. He caught on faster than expected, knowing full well that sometimes telling people what they want to hear is for your own benefit, not theirs. Manipulation was often a tactic swept under the rug and reserved for those who were labeled as cowardice rats. Weak. Not strong enough. Not smart enough. 

No. Not you, though. In the short time he’s known you, words were your choice of weapon in a fight. And apparently, his mother was desperate enough to fall for your schemes. One day, he’d compliment you on such a ruse. One day, he’ll tell you that she was actually the one who gave birth to him. How would you take it, he wonders? Anger at leaving the minor details out? Distrust? Betrayal? 

“-of Marmora have gone underground. There has been news of Voltron recently en route to Earth months ago in response to Sendak’s battalion overthrowing the planet. Olkarion has been devastated by unknown forces and survivors have been scattered. Currently, no one has claimed the throne at the main headquarters and the next crowning ceremony will begin in but a few short weeks. Many separated factions are - “

Lotor had options. Many paths he could take to begin repairing the split and broken empire. He could free planets that were overtaken by warlords, spreading hope and securing rogue armies. No, that was what Voltron did and they failed to protect those they promised. Perhaps return to headquarters then declare his status as alive? He will certainly have more resources at his hand then. But no, Haggar and her spies would discreetly sabotage his throne.

Recruit the scattered Alteans? No, he doesn’t have the forces necessary to defend them all right now. They were safer with their captains, fortified with the necessary firepower and supplies. What of the Blades of Marmora? Should he spend valuable time searching for them? Their espionage skills will be most beneficial, especially with their network of spies spread out all over the universe. Then again, what about Voltron? 

What about Voltron, indeed. 

In truth, Voltron had more use as a gun than anything else. Perhaps there were still people faithful that it was their savior, their answer to all this despair and death in the galaxy. Yes, he could save them. That fight when he was piloting Sincline showed him where Voltron’s strength truly lies: as a false ray of hope. It was weak, in more ways than one. 

However, the problem with saving Voltron would confuse many people. If he were to align with them again, that would leave many to doubt his role as a leader and the Emperor of the Galra Empire. He would lose support in the time of need and Voltron itself wasn't good enough to go around. He needed numbers and he would take a loyal military over a disillusioned vigilante any day.

A conundrum, indeed. 

“Doctor, Kylan. A moment of your time, please.”

The Emperor ordered the rest of the crew around to give you three some much needed privacy. You stood at his left, Kylan at his right, both in silence. It was no surprise that just like Lotor, you were already calculating what the best course of action would be. Or at least, the best without risking potential deaths and destruction.

 “Sir, rallying the Blades would greatly help connect our network with those still loyal to the throne. Although it may take some valuable time to search for their leader and the rest of their members,” Kylan took a deep breath before continuing, “We simply do not have the power alone to protect the Colony and the entirety of the universe, let alone the upcoming war with the other reality.”

Lotor glanced at you from the corner of his eye, awaiting your input. While Kylan’s plan was sound, he couldn't afford to make a hasty decision so soon. 

“Sendak has taken over Earth, where Voltron currently resides. I don’t know the lore following the mech, whether the pilots need to be dead before the lions accept a new paladin, but leaving a nuclear cannon that can rip holes into other realities is not something we should leave to a power-hungry warlord. Find out if the paladins are alive. If they are, fight Sendak with both Voltron and Sincline on your side.”

“And if they are not?” the Emperor asked, partly curious about how you would react to your friends dying and partly curious as to why Earth, the one place you didn't want to return to, was even an option you’d consider. 

“If not, then…” you trailed off, “If not, steal one of the lions. Voltron cannot be formed without all 5 pieces together. At the very least, it will prevent Sendak from using it to its full potential, regardless if he has located new paladins.”

“Stealing requires stealth. Something the Blades can provide,” Kylan interjected. 

“A distraction works just as well. Drawing Sendak’s eyes off of Earth, even for a short time, will give us a small chance to enact our plan,” you countered, then placed a finger on your lips in thought, “If Sincline can attack his battalion, that’s more than enough attention to keep Sendak on a trail.”

Lotor found both plans sound, but there was a small problem, “Sendak will not take the bait. He fights with the ferocity of a thousand suns, but he views a proper battle for the throne as an honor. To taunt him to fight me, use my status as alive in order to claim rights over the empire is not how he views righteous combat.”

“You are the Emperor. If strength is not what determines loyalty, then perhaps it is better to show him with fealty and duty.”

You knew little to nothing about Galra culture, but that letter folded in our pocket did tell you one thing: Galra are not savages. Their history goes beyond blood and guts and gore. It’s a mystery you hope to read about one day, discover how wise veterans compare to the current warriors of the Empire. If what Lotor says is true, then maybe one of the strongest warlords in the galaxy will yield to the rightful emperor. 

“Very well. Here is my thought: Kylan and I will send for a search party to locate the Blades of Marmora. They will need this ship and I will not risk the Alteans on board near Sendak’s sights. While we are carrying out our side of the plan, doctor, you will go to Earth and infiltrate the military base as a slave. Give us the details of where the lions are and generally pass on the intel about what is going on. Because you are human, I would imagine it would be quite a simple task for you to blend in,” Lotor bit the inside of his cheek, “Blend in carefully. You are going into the mouth of the beast, after all. From there, we go either two ways: take a lion or confront Sendak. I will leave that judgement up to you, doctor.”

“It’s risky. I don’t suppose you know how long it would take for you two to find the Blades?” you questioned, though already knowing the answer.

Kylan pinched the bridge of his nose, “No. We are not even sure if the Blades still exist. If that be the case, then we should have a back up plan.”

“Regardless of how this turns out, doctor, we will need updates about Voltron and Sendak. Can you handle this on your own?” came Lotor’s final question, but there was a hint of...concern visible in his tone. 

Earth, the place you were born in. Earth, the place you left behind for good. Earth, the place soon to be used as a slavery planet for Sendak’s militaristic needs. You’re not heartless. You don’t like the idea of death and destruction on any planet. And that’s what Earth was to you, after spending so many years away, it was just another planet. The attachments you had all died with your father. 

For what reason did you have to keep any ties with the land? This was for the safety of the universe and much more.

“Yes. yes, I can. Just don’t leave me behind if things take a turn for the worst.”

Again.

*

 There was a knock at your door, drawing you to pause from packing what little belongings you had into a rucksack. 

“Come in.”

And so he did, all of his tall glory stepping into your meager room. Bland, plain, empty and void of sentimentality. Lotor wonders faintly if you lived your entire life like this, with little color and even littler personality. It looked remarkably like the room back on the Castle of Lions. The door behind him closed slowly, but he had no intention of leaving soon anyways. 

“Was there something important I missed?” 

Lotor stayed silent, watching you and trying to think of how to exactly say his thoughts. He was a man of action when the time was right and right now? Part of him was choking at the very thought of you being alone on a planet ruled by Sendak. His heart screamed at him when he suggested the plan, calling him a fool, an idiot, a bastard that keeps risking those he loves -

No. No, it wasn't love. He had to remind himself that. It was NOT love. 

If it wasn't, then why did you come here? 

Wordlessly, he bent over to unclasp his boots and pile them neatly by your door. Next came his gloves, followed by his waist cape, and then the rest of his armor until he was standing before you in nothing but his skin-tight body suit. The entire time, you watched in silence with only the beating of your heart getting louder and faster in your chest. 

The heart wants. The heart yearns. 

“May I stay here tonight?” he asked, but surely he already knew you would say yes. Surely he did. Surely you would. 

With a soundless nod, you slipped off your coat then hung it up, just for tonight. Not a doctor, not a soldier, not fighting, not running. Just...being. Existing. Like when trapped inside Sincline’s simulation, except this will be real. Was it okay to do that one more time? 

Lotor slipped under the sheets with you, trapping you between the wall and his solid frame. He was never one to call himself a man who hesitates, but he did exactly that when he cautiously slid an arm over your waist to pull you closer. Closer still, until his chest was flushed with your back and his nose nuzzled the top of your head. This let him take in your scent, as if trying to burn it in his memories. 

That’s when it clicked. As much as part of you wanted this, you needed it. You both did, after cheating death together. The way he held you tight. The way you leaned into him. He was … scared, just like you. There was no certainty you would not be killed, nor him surviving the trek to find the Blades. You two just found each other again and, while your partnership before wasn't deemed as together, as someone to fight alongside the other, the idea of being separated so soon started to leave an uneasy tension in the air. 

There were other ways. More safer, less isolating. He could come with you. Or you can stay with him. Strength in numbers, right? 

Oh, where did the confidence go?

Gentle fingertips touched over his knuckles, asking permission to hold, to thread together and seal an unspoken vow between you two. A promise that you can do this, that he will find the Blades, that everything so far is only the beginning and it will work out in the end. It was two simple words. Just two.

Trust me. 

[voltrontranscript]

VForce E2: Defenders of Arus

Episode 2: Defenders of Arus

Transcript by @dragonofyang

Summary: Cadets Vince and Daniel begin their training on Arus, where they meet another cadet named Larmina. Meanwhile, Keith evades capture by Wade’s troops with the help of Hunk and Pidge. On Doom, Commander Kala and Maahox revive King Lotor and prepare an assault on Arus.

[Google Doc]

Drule Captain: Commander Kala, we’ve reached safe distance barrier from the Haggarium quasar.

Kala: Proceed with the sample acquisition. You have failed me, captain. Maahox, your attempts to harness the power of the Haggarium quasar seem futile and have cost a good portion of the fleet.

Maahox: Yes, yes.

Kala: I told you that if it didn’t work this time I would destroy you. Your irritating smile suggests you doubt my conviction to follow through.

Maahox: No, Commander Kala, quite the contrary. It is my faith in your conviction to squash the life from me that has me beaming. For you see, it seems our captain hasn’t failed us after all. In fact, I believe he’s become part of the solution.

[Transition to opening sequence, with an electric guitar playing under the following lyrics.]

Woo!

One, two, three four!

Voltron’s here, kicking down your door!

Five, six, get with it.

We blaze ‘em with the sword and they can’t get away.

Seven, eight.

We’re bringing down the hurt so we’re here to stay.

Nine, ten, we here to win.

Voltron’s here, let the games begin!

Oh! (Let’s Voltron!)

Oh! (Let’s Voltron!)

Oh! (Let’s Voltron!)

Form up, let’s go!

All night! Let’s go!

Alright, we gonna rock (rock!) and roll (roll!)

Now to rock (rock!) and roll (roll!)

Oh!

[Transition to the Castle of Lions on Arus.]

Allura: ...and we’ll conclude our tour in the castle control room where all of the Voltron missions are planned.

Daniel: Are these the doors to the lions? Can we see them?

Allura: All in good time. However, right now you’ll be going through this door to your top-secret classroom.

Daniel: Wow, our top secret classroom. Looks a lot like a classroom.

Allura: It’s equipped with just enough to suit its educating purposes.

Vince: So, there’s a third desk?

Larmina: Oh, yay. Classmates.

Vince: Well, she seems nice.

Daniel: Yeah, real nice.

Allura: Ahem. Vince, Daniel, I’d like you to meet my niece, Larmina.

Lance: Well played, knuckleheads.

Allura: As you all know, the Voltron force is made up of five separate lions that are strong individually, but are much more powerful when they come together to form the mighty Voltron. Unity is our core. These are your voltcomms. Over time you will learn all of their practical applications, but it is more than a mere tactical device. It is your link to the lions, and more importantly to each other. As I activate each of you with the power of a lion, you’re becoming part of a team. Part of the Voltron legacy. I welcome you and turn you over to Lance who has the great responsibility of teaching you how to carry this honor.

Lance: Thank you. Well, now that we’re all part of the Voltron elite, let’s begin our first class with a pop quiz.

Vince: Huh?

Larmina: Come on.

Daniel: I thought this school was about piloting the Voltron lions!

Lance: There’s a lot more to being part of the Voltron force than piloting the lions. We’re gonna test your hand-to-hand combat skills to see what we’re working with. Who wants to go first? Which of you gentlemen would like to fight the lady?

[Scene change to Keith flying Black Lion.]

Pidge: Keith, I’ve been running some diagnostics. Whatever Wade did to your lion at his secret research facility really screwed it up. The weapons systems are completely down. The power’s almost drained.

Keith: Tell me something I don’t know.

Pidge: You need to get back to Arus to recharge, but you’ll never make it flying at combat levels.

Keith: Well, it’s a good thing I’m not.

Pidge: Yeah, about that…

[Scene change to the training deck in the Castle of Lions.]

Vince: You hit her.

Daniel: I’m not gonna hit a girl.

Vince: I don’t wanna--ah!

Larmina: I’ll take you both on.

Daniel: Woah.

Lance: You ladies haven’t been in a lot of fights, have you?

Vince: No.

[Scene change back to Keith in Black Lion.]

Keith: Of course Wade installed a tracking device. Can you disable the signal before they reach me?

Pidge: No, I can’t seem to pinpoint the beacon’s location in the lion. They’re going to catch up to you.

Keith: When?

[Scene change to Wade in his office.]

General: Sir, our fractals have the target in sight and are about to engage.

Wade: Command the pilots to prove their worth and recover that lion in as many pieces as necessary. You’ve already lost it once, general. Have you located the former Voltron Force members now under my employment? I’d like to question them personally.

General: No, sir. They all seem to be AWOL.

[Cut to Pidge at a large computer in the Den.]

Pidge: Don’t worry, Keith. Hunk and I have been working on a contingency plan. We just need a bit more time.

Computer: Attention. The following individuals are to report to Security.

Pidge: Uh, I’ll get right back to you.

Keith: Right back to me? Are you kidding?

Pidge: Oh, you might want to take evasive action about now.

[Cut to Keith in Black Lion.]

Keith: What? Oh, boy.

[Cut to Pidge and Hunk in a tow-ship.]

Pidge: Download Den intelligence report.

Hunk: Downloading to tow-ship.

Pidge: Wha--? Haggar? Keith? It’s worse than we thought.

[Scene change to Planet Doom.]

Maahox: Welcome back, King Lotor.

[Scene change back to the cadets on the training deck.]

Vince: Man…

Larmina: Anytime you’re ready to start. 

Vince: Yeah!

Larmina: Cheap playground trick? That’s all you got?

Daniel: Hey, who’s the one on their butt?

Larmina: You, in about two seconds.

Lance: Alright, let’s just review your test results, shall we?

Daniel: Wait, you graded that?

Lance: No, your voltcomms did. You guys have no idea how cool these things are. Pretty soon, you’ll just think something and the voltcomm will automatically do it.

Daniel: It can read our minds?

Vince: Psh. No, dude. It must read our body’s signals. Minor muscle movements, adrenaline levels, blood pressure, and associate those with specific voltcomm functions. Probably some form of biometrics.

Lance: I was just gonna say it’s magic. It picks up on your natural talents and abilities, then adapts to strengthen them. In this case, I wanted to see what weapon it picked for each of you based on your fighting abilities. Larmina, hit this button.

Vince: Nice… stick?

Larmina: I like my stick.

Lance: Uh-huh. And how about you boys?

Daniel: What do I do with these? Reow. Whoa!

Lance: Okay, we’ll have to work on that one. Let’s see what the ol’ voltcomm has in store for you, Vince.

Vince: What is happening?

Lance: Uh, Pidge’ll look at that, too.

Larmina: Must’ve been impressed with your combat skills.

Lance: Ah-ah, I wouldn’t talk too much smack before your second period class, which is definitely more Vince’s dojo.

Daniel: More simulators, huh?

Vince: Oh! This is much more than a simulator. It’s a lion simulator.

[Scene change to Keith in Black Lion.]

Keith: Pidge, you gotta warn the others, but I’m gonna need some sort of distraction here. Without weapons, all I can do is outrun these guys. And I can’t do that for long.

Pidge: I know. I’m working on something. Here, it looks like there’s an asteroid field nearby. You can try and lose them in there.

Keith: Little game of cat and mouse.

[Scene change to Castle Doom.]

Lotor: I feel… a strange sensation running through my veins.

Maahox: That’s only natural, having just been raised from the grave with the power of Haggarium.

Lotor: Haggarium. As in the witch, Haggar?

Maahox: The very essence of Haggar, my lord.

Lotor: Yes! I feel the dark energy. How ironic. Haggar’s power giving me life. You call me your lord, yet I know neither of you.

Maahox: Forgive me, this is Commander Kala from the planet Darkor. What she lacks in personality she makes up for in tactical brilliance and bloodlust.

Lotor: Charming. And you?

Maahox: I am Maahox, master of experimental occult sciences and exile from Calum. These titles are related.

Lotor: Well, exile and commander, I imagine you feel I am indebted to you for bringing me back into existence. I also assume that means you want something from me.

Maahox: We can all benefit from each other. I’ll go into the details once you’ve adjusted to reanimation. For now, just know that a common hatred has brought us together.

Lotor: Voltron…

[Scene change to the cadets in the simulators.]

Vince: This is amazing!

Larmina: Woah!

Daniel: It feels like the real deal, but there’s really only one way to tell. Awesome!

Larmina: Well, I hate this techy stuff. I’d much rather be beating you up in real li--

Vince: My dojo.

[Cut to Lance and Allura watching the simulation on the bridge.]

Lance: I really like these goons, but I don’t get why you wanted me to bring them here now.

Allura: Wiser forces than myself have set this in motion.

Pidge: Allura! Lance! You guys there?

Allura: Pidge! Is everything okay?

Pidge: No. You better see this. And this.

Allura: We need to step up the curriculum.

[Scene change to Castle Doom.]

Lotor: The Voltron force. They nearly succeeded in destroying me! Now they must pay.

Maahox: All part of Kala’s brilliant plan already set in motion. Please, my lord, today is your re-birthday. You should sit back and enjoy our present to you. A neatly-packaged gift on its way to Arus.

[Cut to Keith in Black Lion.]

Keith: Lance taught them well. Luckily, I’m a better pilot than Lance.

Pidge: We need to disable Wade’s tracking device or you’ll never lose them. If I use their signal feed to hone in… Yeah! Got it! I found the beacon location.

Keith: It’s not like I can crawl down there at the moment, Pidge. It’s time for this cat to chase the mice.

[Scene change to the bridge of the Castle of Lions.]

Allura: We believe a dark evil is rising. We also believe each of you are going to be part of the force that defeats this evil.

Daniel: Why us?

Allura: Because you have been chosen to-- It’s a robeast coffin!

Lance: Already? It can’t be. We need to take out the lions and investigate.

Daniel: Cool!

Lance: No. Not cool. You guys stay here. Are you cool with this? Activating the lions breaks strict Galaxy Alliance sanctions. Arus will face consequences.

Allura: We have no choice.

[Scene change to Keith in Black Lion.]

Keith: Come to me. Closer… Closer… 

Pidge: Keith! The beacon signal’s gone. How’d you knock it out?

Keith: I didn’t. He did.

[Scene change to Wade in his office.]

General: Sir, they’ve lost the Black Lion.

Wade: Incompetent fools.

General: And there’s more. We’ve just received confirmation that the red and blue lions have been activated on Arus.

Wade: What? How? The keys, fakes! I am through with human error.

[Scene change to Keith in Black Lion.]

Keith: I better get back to Arus while I still can. Pidge, send me the--Pidge! I’ve lost power.

Pidge: Keith! Keith, do you copy? We’re almost there! Keith?

Allura: Pidge, our security detected a robeast coffin landing on Arus. Lance and I are going to investigate.

Pidge: Alright, we’ve got Keith in our sight. We’ll be there as soon as we can.

[Cut to Arus.]

Allura: That may not be soon enough.

Lance: I think I imagined a more romantic reunion with the lions. I take it back. I think the two of us just shared a beautiful moment.

Allura: No offense, but I wish the whole team were here to share it with us.

[Cut to the cadets on the bridge.]

Daniel: We can’t just sit here!

Vince: What can we do? No way, Daniel. Maybe the others are almost here.

[Scene change to the tow-ship.]

Keith: Not a lick of power in him, is there?

Vince: Pidge! What’s your ETA?

Pidge: Doing the best we can!

Vince: Well, hurry. Lance and Allura really need your help.

Keith: Um, who was that?

[Cut to Blue and Red Lions on Arus.]

Lance: Looks like we’re going to have to engage him as a twosome. You ready?

Allura: Cover me.

Lance: Allura! No!

Allura: Lance! Lance, are you okay? Lance!

[Cut to the cadets on the bridge.]

Daniel: That’s it! We gotta do something. Woohoo! Time to go fast. Aw yeah!

[Cut back to Red and Blue Lions facing the robeast.]

Allura: Hunk?

Daniel: Uh, not exactly. Eat laser! Whoops. Uh, how about now?

Allura: Daniel!

Daniel: I know, I know. Sorry! I don’t know the weapons, but I can still fly.

Lance: Daniel, what are you--

Allura: Lance, are you okay?

Lance: I think my arm is broken, but I still got some fight in me. At least there’s three of us now.

[Cut to the tow-ship and Black Lion.]

Keith: Guys, I gotta get down there. Is there any way to speed this up?

Pidge: Only if we get some power to the lion to help propel it. But we don’t have a source capable of…

[Cut to Arus.]

Allura: If we keep working together, we can keep this beast on its heels.

Lance: Yeah, but does anyone have any ideas how to get it off its heels?

Daniel: Don’t look at me for strategy, unless you want cheap playground tricks.

Lance: You’re a genius, Danny-boy. Allura, maintain your position. Daniel, let’s play.

Daniel: Yeah! Knocked you down on your ro-butt!

Lance: Nice, but not the time to gloat. Pin it!

Allura: We need to pin that other arm. We need another lion.

Vince: Did somebody say “another lion”?

[Cut to the tow-ship and Black Lion.]

Pidge: Alright, that should hopefully transfer all the lion power from your voltcomm into--it worked! Great! Now, wait, you don’t have enough power to hear me because your voltcomm is dead. Punch it, Hunk!

[Cut back to Arus.]

Allura: Come on, guys, concentrate! You’re a team. You can do it!

Vince: Here. You control the jaws while I take the legs.

Larmina: Like this?

Vince: Yeah!

[Cut to Black Lion.]

Keith: Come on, we’re almost in Arus’ gravitational pull! You can do it!

Pidge: It’s dead again. We need to try something else.

Hunk: Try it my way, with some muscle.

Pidge: What are you--

Hunk: Keith! Get ready to do your hero thing!

[Cut back to Arus’ surface.]

Lance: I can’t get a shot without losing my grip. Come on, guys, concentrate!

Daniel: We’re losing him!

Vince: Okay, I think we got it!

Allura: We need our whole team. Where’s--

Lance: What was that?

Keith: Come on! Hold!

Allura: Keith!

Lance: It’s good to see ya, old pal. You’re still rocking the mullet? Man, you have been underground for a long time.

Allura: Yeah, we’ll have to do something about that. Where are Pidge and Hunk?

Pidge: Did we get ‘em?

Allura: Pidge! You’re okay! Yes, yes, we did.

Pidge: Great. Now you wanna come get us?

[Scene change to the Voltron force and cadets standing in the bridge.]

Hunk: Hey, nice haircut. About time.

Lance: You did real good today, Dan-man, even though you lost your head.

Daniel: At least I didn’t lose my arm.

Lance: Ha. Come on. Hey, Keith. I wanna introduce you to my new hero.

[Cut to Castle Doom.]

Lotor: What was that?

Kala: King Lotor, that robeast defeat was part of my plan. It was a relic from your days: a minor challenge to bring Voltron back into the open. We have something much more powerful in store.

Maahox: What you and your predecessors failed to realize is that some of the best raw material for robeasts isn’t found in your battle arena, but in nature herself.

Kala: Eons of evolution perfecting efficient, savage predators.

Maahox: Yes, but the problem with these creatures is that they lack the brain capacity for reason. For strategy. Which is why we need to give this to our next generation of Haggarium-powered robeasts. My own evolution.

Kala: This wasn’t part of my plan! What--what did--ah!

Maahox: No, but it was part of mine. Don’t fight it, dear commander. I promise you’ll love what I’ve done with you.

Lotor: Yes, and so will the Voltron force.

End.

[avidbeader]

New Sheith Fic

Probably rated T, but we’ll see.

VLD post-S8, but Allura lives and the endcards are thrown on a trash heap where they belong

This is the fic thread I’ve been posting to Twitter for the last few days. Thought I’d share here as well. It’s between 1/3 and 1/2 done at this point. It will get to AO3 eventually once it’s finished and beta’ed.

I just got this idea of something that the Atlas might do in a given situation and ran with it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first couple of requests were reasonable. A real-time updated roster of the Atlas crew made sense for both organizational and security purposes. A record of the ship’s known offensive and defensive capabilities was necessary as the admirals and generals developed strategies for any potential threats, minimal though they might be after Voltron’s defeat of Honerva.

The order to have a Garrison official installed as their liaison made Shiro pause, but only for a moment. On the one hand, there were already several crew members on board who performed that role: Sam, Mitch, Veronica, himself. On the other hand, it was not unwarranted for the Garrison to have a point person for communication purposes so as not to add an extra burden to the duties of any one crew member. If Shiro had tried to keep up with every Garrison inquiry or notification on top of his own duties as captain, he probably would have gone to the Black Lion and begged to be taken back to the astral plane. This would take one thing off his plate without pushing more responsibility on any member of the command staff.

But when a General Stone reported to him, demanding both quarters in the same section as the senior bridge crew and an office next to Shiro’s ready room, his hackles rose instinctively. Atlas’ presence in the back of his head, usually a quiet and cheerful sensation, grew wary like a wild animal sensing a predator.

“Given that this was only communicated to us today, you’ll have to make do in guest quarters until we are able to make arrangements, General. I didn’t expect anyone to be appointed, much less arrive so soon.”

Which meant that someone in the Garrison hadn’t wanted to give them time to ask questions or protest the decision. And the fact that a general was assigned to a position that should have gone to a lieutenant at most was unsettling.

Stone growled at him. “This lack of preparedness is the kind of thing that I’m here for. As one of the Garrison’s most valuable assets, the Atlas must be primed and ready for action at any given time.”

It took Atlas a moment to identify what the general meant, but Shiro knew immediately when she understood. There was now an angry cat hissing and spitting in his mind and it was taking everything Shiro had to maintain a polite expression.

“It’s not a lack of preparedness when information is not provided in a timely manner,” he retorted. The general reared back slightly, taken aback that Shiro had not immediately accepted the criticism.

Shiro pressed a button on a small console in his desk for show, but Atlas had already found the ship’s senior steward and asked him through his datapad to report to Shiro’s ready room. Before the general could form a response, he continued. “I’m sure you remember this from your protocol training, General, but bear in mind that aboard a ship, the captain is the ranking officer. You are welcome to observe and advise, but you are not part of the chain of command.”

Stone’s eyes narrowed and he entered something on the datapad in his hand. It beeped and he frowned. “What’s the matter with the connectivity here? My message didn’t go through!”

The malicious giggle that only he could hear was answer enough for Shiro. “I expect your device will need to go through a security clearance. Mention it to—” Shiro paused as his door opened before the steward could signal his presence “—the steward. Lieutenant Rasal, this is General Stone. He’s been assigned to us by the Garrison and will need quarters and an office when you are able to arrange it. In the meantime, could you escort him to an available space in the guest accommodations?”

The lieutenant nodded, the flash of a dimple in his cheek the only sign that he understood what Shiro was not saying. As the officer in charge of organizing lodging, supplies, and maintenance aboard the ship, he knew better than most what the Atlas was capable of. If she cared to, she could have produced everything Stone was demanding within minutes. Shiro was honoring her choice not to, and Rasal followed his captain’s lead. He saluted and held out a guiding hand.

“If you’ll come with me, sir.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stone’s presence had an immediate and negative impact. He began by insisting on a full tour of the ship with Shiro. He complained constantly about the randomness of his datapad connection, too focused to pick up on the fact that Atlas was only letting neutral and positive reports get through. When Shiro convinced her that yes, she had to make him an office and a set of quarters, Atlas’ response was to make an office, not much bigger than a broom closet on the opposite side of the bridge from Shiro’s ready room, and a minimal set of quarters, as far away from Shiro as possible while still in the section for the command staff.

Stone’s next step was to observe, watching the normal routines of the crew. It made everyone nervous and more prone to mistakes. Even the oldest, most seasoned officers like Sam and Mitch were side-eying Stone when he was on the bridge. Shiro made time to circulate through the ship so he could reassure his crew that they had done nothing wrong. He noticed a sharp drop in the number of people hanging out in the common areas or lounges as any socializing shifted to rooms behind closed doors, out of Stone’s sight.

The Taujeerians made a formal request for the Atlas to map a nearby star system for potential relocation sites when their planet next went through its renewal cycle. Keith took advantage of the deep-space mission to run training drills with the lions and the MFEs, improving their teamwork and response times. Stone seemed especially interested in the paladins, having noticed how their quarters were all on the same hall as Shiro’s.

Shiro was in one of the conference rooms, talking with Baujal and his council, when Atlas nudged him, then sounded an alert on his datapad. He quickly excused himself and headed down to the Black Lion’s hangar.

He walked in on a shouting match between Stone, the paladins, and the MFE pilots. As he crossed to where they were gathered, he scanned their faces. Stone and Lance were nose-to-nose, yelling at one another, with Nadia backing up Lance. Keith, Allura, and James were clustered together. The others were watching closely, all in various stages of anger or irritation.

“...and I’ll see all of you court-martialed for this insubordination!”

“As their captain, I would appreciate knowing what your complaint is against Commander Griffin and his squad.” Shiro’s voice cut through the quarrel like a knife.

“These squads are refusing my direct order! I need to observe them in action and Kogane says he won’t permit me to board his ship!”

Shiro glanced at Keith, who cocked an eyebrow at him. He had held onto his temper and let Lance as his second lead the outburst against the general. Shiro’s pride in his best friend surged, knowing that just a few years ago Keith would have been the one shouting first.

“General, it is absolutely within Commander Kogane’s rights to refuse you access to the Black Lion. The Voltron team is not part of the Garrison—”

Stone interrupted him with a squawk of disbelief. “Since when?”

“Since always,” Allura interjected, her voice full of ice. “Voltron represents the Coalition and agreed to use the Atlas as one of our bases for ease of coordinating our efforts to build on the peace we have created. You may not simply demand access to any lion and expect to be obeyed without question.” Shiro noticed that Allura had used her shape-shifting abilities to make herself several inches taller than usual and she used that height advantage to glare down at the general.

“And as today’s drills are a joint exercise with the MFEs, you are not permitted to ride along with Commander Griffin. If he and Captain Shirogane give permission, you can observe the MFEs another time,” Keith added.

“I don’t need permission! I am—”

“Here to facilitate communication between the Atlas and the Garrison, or so I was told,” Shiro interrupted. “Unless there is a secondary agenda that has been kept from me, your remit doesn’t include breathing down the necks of my crew or our allies. You’ve been overstepping your role for days and it ends now.”

Stone drew himself to his full height, which meant he was eye level to Shiro’s collarbones, and snarled, “We’ll just see about this, Captain.”

His attempt at stalking out of the hangar was ruined when Black let out a menacing growl and Stone jumped in alarm.

Once he was gone, everyone began to relax. Shiro noticed that Keith’s stance was still rigid and went over to him, laying a soothing hand on one shoulder. “You okay?”

“We will be. Didn’t expect we’d have a battle before we even got in our ships.” Keith turned to Lance and Nadia. “Thank you both for stepping up.”

“No problem,” Nadia chirped. “He’s a puffed-up toad.”

“And now that he’s gone, we need to get back to work. These joint exercises will continue until further notice since we need to take advantage of our current situation.” Evil grins broke out as everyone understood what Keith was doing. “Do we need to go over today’s plan again?”

“Nah, we got this,” Pidge replied before throwing a glance Shiro’s way. “Thanks for coming, Captain.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took four days for Stone’s message to the Garrison to get through, and another two days of Shiro showing the general his message inbox as proof that he had no instructions to discipline any of the MFEs. Stone’s temper was running high, as he had received a reprimand of his own from the Coalition over his attempt to assert jurisdiction over an ally’s representatives. The fact that that message had been received within hours only added to Stone’s fury.

Once Shiro finally got the orders that he was to punish all four MFE pilots for their insubordination, he met them before their usual workout routine and instructed them to run twenty extra laps around the track in the Atlas’ enormous gym. The squad’s groans turned to glee when they turned around and saw that the length of the track had been shrunk to a fifth of its usual size.

That evening, Keith tapped on the door that connected his quarters to Shiro’s.

Shiro looked up from the reports he was reading and frowned. “You knocked. What’s wrong?”

“Got a message from Kolivan. They found a ship of former Galra soldiers turned mercenary, and they’ve been hired by one side on a planet dealing with a pair of feuding lords. He wants to stop the conflict now before it spreads.”

“Should I—”

“No.” Keith shook his head. “If the Blades go in with stealth and take out the mercs, that puts the two sides at stalemate again and the planetary government might finally contact the Coalition for help. Then we can officially come in to negotiate a settlement.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.” Shiro reached out a hand and Keith took it, letting Shiro draw him into a tight hug as usual. And as usual, Shiro resisted doing or saying anything more. “Be careful.”

“You, too. I don’t like leaving you with that Garrison watchdog.”

“He’s here as a liaison.”

“He’s here to find a reason to ground Atlas.”

Even as Shiro shook his head at Keith’s statement, he could feel Atlas’ alarm. “No, that would be just about the worst move the Garrison could make. The Coalition planets recognize two major factors right now that ended the Galra Empire: Voltron and the Atlas. Taking one away would make the Garrison the new intergalactic villain.”

“Not forever, but long enough to figure out how to put someone else in command of her. They need you and Coran and Sam—hell, probably Iverson and Veronica, too—off her bridge so they can have complete control of her, including all her battle capability.”

“I mean...we do need to figure that out, if for no other reason because I will have to retire someday, but there’s no rush.” Shiro struggled to keep his expression mild as he dealt with twin reactions. He ran his hands along Keith’s arms to allay the sudden tension there and

mentally tried to soothe Atlas, who was almost screeching in fury as she surrounded him possessively.

Ironically, the strength of her reaction made Shiro stop and wonder if maybe the Garrison didn’t have a point. After all, he couldn’t lead Atlas forever. He might have done the impossible once thanks to Black and Allura, but humans still had limited lifespans. But surely the Garrison brass, if they were considering the options already, would talk to him about possibilities?

“Just keep an eye on your six while I’m gone, okay?” Keith squeezed his shoulder.

“I will.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He swung the sword as wide as he could, trying to hit as many opponents as possible as he forced them back.The roar of the spectators droned like machinery, a persistent buzz in the back of his head as he tried to reduce the impossible odds. Who had decided to punish him this way, with a dozen opponents? Was this the match where he finally died?

He shifted tactics, the sword in his hand shrinking back into a dagger. He took advantage of his smaller stature and dove between the legs of the nearest adversary, using him as a temporary shield against the others and slicing one quick stroke through the thigh above the cuisse. He spared a lightning-quick thought to thank the universe for giving the majority of bipedal beings a femoral artery.

He continued to dodge, eluding their attacks and striking at any weak point he saw. Suddenly there was only one enemy between him and an open path to the door and he dealt a vicious cut across the throat as he made his bid to escape.

Something struck and wrapped around him from behind, dragging him to the floor. He had just enough time to press the communicator at his wrist and signal the others to leave before the cord electrified, ripping screams from him before he blacked out—

Shiro shot upright, gasping for breath and fighting the covers that were tangled around him. There were sounds, the ordinary hum of the dim nightlights, his datapad beeping an alert, a furious pounding coming from somewhere in the next room...and an engine’s roar.

The Atlas was moving at top speed.

Shiro freed himself from the bedclothes and staggered to his feet. He grabbed the datapad and looked at the message, a priority one from the night comms officer—Cullen, Cuddy, something that began with C—stating that the Atlas had changed course about fifteen minutes before and was at full throttle. The bridge crew was locked out of all of the controls.

Shiro reached across the room with his prosthesis and snatched his robe from its hanger before moving into the sitting area. Once there, he identified the pounding as someone knocking furiously on the door to his quarters. Voices were coming from the hallway and they all sounded angry.

He pressed the control and the door slid open. General Stone staggered when his obstacle vanished, wrenching himself back upright from the momentum.

“Shirogane! What’s the meaning of the course change? You weren’t scheduled to be done with the Taujeerians for another forty-eight hours!”

The paladins were behind him, shouting at him for waking them all up. Shiro looked back down at his datapad and noticed a second new message below the one from the bridge. He opened it and felt the blood drain from his face.

It was two brief sentences from Kolivan: Mission a trap. Keith has been taken.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean, you can’t stop the ship? It’s a SHIP! You’ve got two Holts right here that can supposedly hack anything that beeps! Break the security codes and set a new course for Earth!”

Shiro had been walking briskly down a hallway, Atlas subtly cutting the distance to the bridge, and trading messages with Kolivan to coordinate a rendezvous point with the remaining Blades on the mission team, Krolia, and a squad of Coalition fighters led by Matt. He stopped short, so abruptly that Hunk ran into him, and stared at the general.

“Earth? What makes you think we’d go to Earth at a time like this? We’re going to rescue Commander Kogane!”

“You said it yourself, Voltron isn’t part of the Garrison!” Stone flapped a hand at the other paladins who had been trailing them. “So let them go take care of the situation! We’ve got to fix this malfunction immediately and since the ship was built by the Garrison, that’s the best place to go to do the repairs!”

Shiro couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt such a wave of derision. The mental image of Atlas in robot form and rolling her eyes brought him to the edge of hysterical giggles. It was verging on too much for him to handle.

Allura must have seen something in his face. She grabbed Stone by the collar and yanked him back before he could crowd into Shiro and continue his tirade. “If you are going to be so ridiculously focused on procedure in a situation this urgent, then consider this the formal request from the Coalition to the Atlas for support in a rescue operation!”

Stone tried to twist out of her grip and she hoisted him up until his toes barely touched the deck. His face grew red as he snarled, “Captain, I am ordering you to dismiss this group except for Katie Holt and turn all your efforts to retaking control of your ship!”

Pidge’s expression grew dangerous. Shior shifted and put one hand on her shoulder, willing her to hold her temper.

“As I told you the day you arrived, General, you are not part of the chain of command here. Your role is to keep both us and the Garrison informed of what the other needs to share. And you have not performed that role faithfully.

“The Coalition has every right to call on the Atlas. It was built from plans given to us by the Alteans and is powered by the crystal that houses the remains of their flagship. They have just as much claim to it as the Garrison does. We will lead the operation to recover Commander Kogane and you can inform the Garrison of our status. After that, you have two choices; you can stay in your quarters or be escorted to the brig until this operation is concluded. Which will it be?”

Stone stared at him, open-mouthed. Allura shook him, rattling his teeth with her strength. “You heard the captain. Which will it be? We have more important issues to deal with.”

“I am your superior officer and—”

Before Shiro could even bring up his datapad, much less start a message requesting assistance from security, a faint shimmer formed around Stone and Allura released her hold, skipping back nimbly. The general surged forward and bounced off the force field Atlas had brought up.

The paladins laughed as Stone began pounding his fists against the barrier. Allura smothered her giggles into her hand and looked at Shiro. “Shall we leave him here for the moment?”

Shiro was busy silently arguing with Atlas that, no, she could not open a portal in the floor and jettison the man into space. He gave one more psychic push, adding aloud, “Leave him here for now. We’ll take care of him later.”

They moved quickly to the bridge to find Sam and Coran with their heads together over one of the nav panels and the rest of the bridge crew huddled uneasily in the center. Sam brightened as he saw them enter. “Shiro! The Atlas has locked everyone out—”

Shiro stepped up to his position and laid both hands on the panels. He focused, trying to form a request to let the bridge crew access their stations in as clear and simple of terms as possible. He heard shouts of surprise in the background as the connection solidified and Atlas drew him in.

His hands were cuffed behind him. Two of the “mercenaries” dragged him from a pod into a hangar of a battleship, pausing in front of a Galra commander. The commander seized him by the throat and growled, “You’re almost certainly the right one, judging from your size, but let’s be sure. Drop your mask, Blade.”

He paused, just long enough to spark a reaction. The commander’s grip tightened. “Drop the mask or I tear it off. The druids want you alive, but they didn’t say that you had to be uninjured.”

He let the mask disappear and glared at his captor, who pulled his head up by his hair to study his face carefully.

“It’s him. Put him in a cell and double the guard on it.” The commander raised his wrist comm and opened a channel. “Set course for the Alvega system.”

The scene dissolved around Shiro, melding into the blue circuits that would surround him when the ship morphed into its robot form. Already he could sense Atlas changing course, plotting an intercept of the Galra battle cruiser.

We need to meet with the others. We need the Blades’ intel. We need Krolia and Kosmo. We need the backup from the Coalition.

You need him. Why do you waste time?

We need a plan. We need support. We can’t get him back safely if we just charge in.

Not fast enough.

The ship shuddered around him and Shiro grabbed the console to stay on his feet, his awareness of the bridge and its occupants returning. He rubbed at his temples with his left hand, trying to ground himself in reality once more.

“Shiro, how did you do that?” Coran shouted above the others’ reactions.

“Do what?”

“A wormhole...you took us through a wormhole, Shiro.” Allura spoke slowly, in shock.

The main viewscreen lit up, showing Kolivan and Krolia in two panels. Kolivan nodded, hiding any surprise he might be feeling. “Good, you’re early. Permission to dock our ships, captain?”

Shiro nodded, before remembering he had a voice. “Of course. Then we’ll get the Coalition ships and head for the Alvega system. That’s where they’re taking Keith.”

He closed his eyes and planted his hands on the control panel once more. Atlas, what are you doing?

You need him.

Yes, we need him. He’s the leader of Voltron. He’s a commander in the Blades.

YOU need him.

He...he’s my best friend.

More than need.

Image after image flooded past Shiro, showing him all the stages of his life that included Keith. The Garrison and Keith becoming his best friend there. The long nights as a prisoner, sustained by memories of Keith and the hope to escape and return to him. Reuniting, only to be dragged into the middle of an interstellar war and then killed. Brought back against impossible odds, with faint memories of what it had cost Keith to accomplish that.

He needs you. You need him.

Yes.

Then we get him back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To be continued...

[snaileer]

Chips & Salsa Chp 5

Lance stared blankly at his team, each caught up in their own worlds. Pidge and Hunk discussing some new gadget. Allura and Coran discussing the castle. Shiro and Keith talking about... training probably. They were all together in the common room, but nobody was talking to anybody else. 

He felt fuzzy. Like he was empty, not bad empty. Just.. silence. The world felt muted. It felt like he was watching himself sit there. It was like he was another person, no emotions tethering him. It felt dangerously peaceful, something heavy sat in his stomach telling him it was wrong. 

They hadn’t done anything after yesterday, and he hadn’t slept last night, or since he’d been back. The sleep deprivation must be getting to him more than he thought it was. 

Lance still watched himself sit there, looking at nothing, seeing nothing. Nothing but haunting, eerie, calm that-

Lance winced harshly and grabbed his ears as he leaned over in pain. The others stopped and glanced over in worry.

“I’m fine, ignore it.” The words felt heavy to get out, like pulling his mind from a fog, though the ringing in his ears had already yanked him away.

The team hesitantly turned back to their conversations. And he pretended not to notice their inability to subtly glance at him.

‘Ignore it.’ What wonderful, fantastic, completely useless advice.

The ringing was barely even the problem, he could deal with this. It was the nothing that was bothering him. Doing nothing, talking about nothing, he was bored.

His leg started bouncing. 

He spread his arms out behind him and tapped his fingers on top of the couch backrest.

He looked around at the room, to his teammates. He glanced back and forth between each small group.

Screw this. Lance stood and left the room without a word, easily brushing off the questions that followed him out. He wasn't ‘leaving-leaving’ so they shouldn't get too worried about it. And it’s not like he was participating in any particularly riveting discussions with them.

It’s not like they were even having a moderately boring conversation with him.

It’s not like they were talking to him instead of about him. Or including him in anything.

It’s not like it was any different from when he left in the first place.

Lance ran his hand through his hair, feeling the small scab on his temple from his first moments back in the castle. He sighed,

To the training room it is then. Lance rolled his eyes,

Hooray.

x--x--x

Lance sagged against his bayard, using the barrel of the gun as a staff. He was exhausted, his breath was ragged and his muscles burned from overexertion.

Lance flinched harshly when the doors swished open. He blinked the blurriness out of his vision, and there stood Keith in all his mulleted glory. 

“Keith?”

“Oh, hey, Lance, I didn’t know you were in here.” Keith stood there stiffly, his words tight. The tension from yesterday had not disappeared completely yet.

“It’s fine, I just finished.”

“Really?”

“Yes, don't worry Samurai, I won't tell Shiro you’re in here. Train to your heart’s content. Or ‘til you drop. Whichever comes first.”

“Ha ha,” Keith said sarcastically, “I’m better at regulating my training now.” Lance gave him a doubtful eyebrow. “Most of the time,.” Another skeptical look, “Alright, some of the time, but I’ve got it under control.” His voice got defensive.

“Okaay, whatever you say, Keith,” Lance spoke over his shoulder as he started towards the doors.

“Oh! Wait! I was supposed to tell you, we have a team meeting in an hour.”

Right. That.

“No problem. See ya’ there.” An hour was just enough time for a shower and a short face cleanse, finally.

The shower immediately made him feel better. Lance stood under the showerhead for longer than necessary, feeling the water flow over his face and his skin. He missed the water. Missed being clean. He’d hated the dirt and grime of the cells, the terror of every second-

No, don’t think about that. Anything else.

He shut off the faucet with a bit more force than necessary. Stepping out of the steam, Lance stumbled and braced a hand on the wall as a headache bloomed. He really needed to sleep, he could feel the dropoff point of exhaustion creeping up on him. Lance shook it off and wrapped himself in a towel, pointedly avoiding the mirror as he left the room.

He was relieved to find all of his facial supplies were still usable. The space-avocado face wash was a blessing he had longed for in captivity. There were a lot of things he had wished for in-

Nope. Nope. Nope nope nope. Other things. Puppies. And rainbows. Properly cut mullets.

Lance quickly moved his thoughts away, forcibly humming ‘These Are A Few of My Favorite Things’ under his breath as he washed the avocado cream off. He glanced up at the mirror in habit. His eyes caught his own reflection.

His wet hair was still stuck in weird spikes and plastered to his forehead. Before, he might have fussed about it drying like that. Now: he was still annoyed by the mangled haircut, but his eyes focused on the scars.

Lance had managed to protect his face relatively well. There was still a few marks he hadn't managed to avoid. 

The scab on his right temple. From Keith’s knife when he got out of the pod. To remind him he was here.

The grooved slash at his hairline. From being thrown across the room by Zarkon. To remind him of his place.

The small nicked mark on his neck. From his first fight. To remind him to survive.

The short rough scar at the bridge of his nose.

From the muzzle.

To remind him of obedience.

Lance’s eyes lingered on that one. He remembered it well, though it was the least noticeable. It was barely there, visible if you looked but easier to feel. Lance ran his finger across it. It was short, probably less than an inch long in total. But it was the implications that gave it weight.

Because it looked exactly like Shiro’s.

Lance finally pulled himself away from the mirror, deciding it was best to ignore his other scars. He got dressed again, just in time to be... very late to the team meeting.

Crap.

Lance was still pulling on his jacket as he ran down the hall. He came to a rolling stop in front of the bridge doorway.

“-still has no punctuality.” He heard Keith’s voice first when the doors opened automatically. 

“Sorry I’m late. I did remember it though,” Lance announced as he entered.

“It’s fine, Lance. Keith complains but he was only ten minutes earlier than you.” Shiro said from behind Pidge’s chair.

“Thanks, Shiro.” Lance gave him a grateful smile, Shiro nodding in response.

“Don't tell him that!” Keith burst out at the same time.

“What? It’s true.” Shiro smiled cheekily at his brother.

“Yeah, I know that but-”

“I’ve got it!” Pidge’s exclamation called everybody’s attention to her. Her paladin chair was surrounded by gears and random metal pieces with various pop-up holograms. Hunk among them as well.

The momentary pause as they moved to Pidge made Lance realize he still had the headache from getting out of the shower. The bags under his eyes felt heavier, he would need to rest at some point soon.

“So, yesterday, after, ahem,” Pidge cleared her throat awkwardly, glancing at Lance, “breakfast. I started going over the old missions, including that mission.”

“And why were you looking at that mission?” Shiro’s space-dad came out to scold her.

“Because I was hit by a wave of guilt and decided to indulge my self-destructive tendencies. Why else?”

“Pidge, we’ve talked about-”

“Anyways. I was also looking at the rescue mission and the EMP device we used. And I realized that if I could miniaturize and focus the pulse onto the chip, I might be able to shut it down-.”

“So do it. Let’s get this show on the road.” Lance stepped closer, eager to get this over with. Allura moved to give him space.

“Let me finish, Lance. I could shut it down temporarily. And even then, it’s risky. A high-level electromagnetic pulse aimed directly at your brain? There’s too many possible consequences and too many variables.”

“So why tell us about this at all?” Keith snapped.

“Because it’s still useful.” She barked back, before taking a deep breath, “It could be useful in times we need him asleep. Like in the pod, or when we can get rid of the chip.” She glared at Keith sharply, “I did make something else though. A way to stop the tracker within the chip.”

“Then you can stay, Lance,” Hunk looked at his friend hopefully, “We can be legs again!”

“Can’t wait, bud,” Lance could wait for it, he wanted to. Yes, he loved being a part of Voltron, but he didn’t even know if Blue would still accept him. He was afraid to find out.

“So I was working the design to be small and compact, Hunk helped me with that, and we made it into a bracelet.” Pidge pulled a small box out from among her things, handing it to Lance. 

Inside the box was a grayish bracelet, it was about 2 inches long, went all the way around and- 

“How am I going to get this on my wrist? There’s no gap.” Lance looked from the box back up to Pidge.

“Ooh! That’s the coolest part!” Pidge jumped up from her seat to grap the bracelet from him.

“A bracelet that blocks radio-waves across the galaxy from a magic chip in my head, and that’s the coolest part?” Lance looked at her doubtfully.

“Of course. Watch this,” She tapped an almost invisible button on the bracelet and a piece slid away. She used the newly appeared gap to put it on Lance’s wrist. Then, another tap of the bracelet and it slid closed again. A red light blinked on.

“My, that is pretty cool, number five.” Lance held his arm up for Coran as he leaned in to look. 

The weight on his arm felt familiar. And, bonus points for perfectly covering his weird tan lines.

“Any chance we can make it blue?” Pidge glared at him like he’d destroyed her honor, Lance put his hands up, “Yeesh, fine, no blue.” He turned it wrist back and forth, the bracelet really did fit perfectly. “I really like it, Pidge. Thank you.” He gave her a small smile, “And you’re sure it’ll work?”

“Yes, I perfectly calculated it to the chip’s signal, which was crazy hard to say the least. I’ve never seen a signal like that before. It functions like a cell phone call, but both receiving and sending were the same signal. It really shows the advances of alien technology and the push that space travel must have had to be able to communicate over the distance of galaxies. It’s incredible, really!” Pidge smiled in amazement at the technology.

“I’m definitely not as excited as you about this chip. I’m probably gonna melt it to bits the second I get the chance.”

“But what about the tech?! I have to study it!” Pidge pleaded.

“But what about the- no,” He mocked her then dropped his voice at the end, “Fire. Lots of fire. Maybe even a blowtorch. I don’t know. I’ll get creative, have a bit of fun with it.” He gave her a tense smile.

“But the possibilities of-”

“So, bracelet… it works?”

“Yeah, it works,” she grumbled, “All I have to do is turn it on.” Pidge reached over and clicked something on the bracelet. The red light turned green.

“How does it have power? Will it ever run out of charge?” Keith asked as he stepped up to the group.

“Nope, tiny balmeran crystal, right at the heart of it,” Hunk said proudly, “Courtesy of Shay from our last visit.”

“Whoa, when did Shay start giving you gifts? I so don't remember that from last time.” Lance piped in, elbowing Hunk with a smirk. Everyone’s face dropped. “What? What’d I say?”

“Nothing. Just... while you were gone, we had to make a trip to the Balmera. Had to save the whole planet actually. It wasn't easy, especially-.” Hunk looked down, “Especially without the Blue lion.” 

“What? What happened? When did-?” Lance stood straighter. The team looked at each other, wondering if they should tell him, “Guys, I’ll be fine. Just tell me what happened. I need to know.”

“It was still pretty soon after you got.. y’know…” Hunk started wringing his hands together, “And uh, we were looking for you when we got a distress call from Shay’s Balmera.” He looked back at Lance, “We almost didn’t go.”

“But you did go, right?” Lance looked at the others, they avoided his gaze, “You did your job, right?” His tone was harsh, “You saved people, like Voltron is supposed to, right? You didn’t sacrifice a planet just to look for me, right?”

“We did go, Lance-,” Shiro tried to reason.

“But by the time we got there… the beast had already destroyed so much.” Keith still felt guilty about it, mostly because he had voted against going at all. He still didn’t know if that was the right choice. Or if he regretted it.

“The beast? What Beast?”

“The robeast we fought before; the one that got encased in crystal by the Balmera,” Keith explained, “It broke free and used the crystals as power sources.” 

“And flying shields, which has got to be one of the most infuriating things Voltron’s ever fought,” Pidge chimed in from her chair.

“Wait, Voltron? You guys were able to form Votlron without me?” Lance had heard rumors of a full voltron in the cells, but he’d hoped they were false. That he wasn't as easily replaceable as that. That he did contribute to the team, but if Voltron could form without him-.

“Barely,” Keith scoffed, “Blue was more temperamental than Red about Allura flying her. Even when we did form Voltron, we were hardly at full power. And we fell apart seconds after defeating it.”

“It’s true. Though the Blue Lion is the most friendly, I fear we are not as great a match as I had previously believed.” Allura looked saddened by the prospect.

“So the rumors I heard? About Voltron resurfacing?”

“Only a few times,” Pidge climbed out of her chair to sit on the armrest, “It was so draining that none of us could sustain it for long without serious damage.”

“I wish I had been there. We could have stopped it. Voltron wouldn’t have been late.” Lance could only feel useless at the idea of Shay hurting because he couldn't be there when he was supposed to be.

“It’s alright. There’s nothing we can do about it now.” Shiro was the first to get back up, “We have you back and that’s all that matters, right?”

“No, Shiro! That’s not all that matters! An entire planet was hurt because I couldn’t be there. Because I-” Lance’s voice cracked, “I couldn’t-”

“Exactly, you couldn’t. You would have been there if you could. You would have tried to help any way you could. You always do.” Shiro stepped towards Lance, but he stepped away. He glanced around at the others looking at him with worry.

“Yeah, sorry guys, but uh- I think I’m just gonna hit the hay,” His words shook with the devastation in his eyes, “I’m pretty tired and-” Lance cleared his throat to try and steady his voice, “Thanks for telling me though, I’ll see you at breakfast.” He backed out of the room with a weak wave, dutifully ignoring the lump in his throat.

Lance quickly turned towards his room. He hoped the team would be too awkward to follow him. Lance scrubbed at his eyes, trying to wipe away the tears before they could fall. 

Later. Cry later. 

“Dang it, Lance,” He mumbled under his breath, “You don’t have time for this now.” He sniffed and tried to take a deep breath, “Yeah, it’s no big deal. Just an entire planet you abandoned.” He stepped into his room, letting the doors swish close behind him.

“Gah! I knew it!” He swung his fist at the wall. The mental dented, but didn’t crush like drywall. “I knew something would happen! God, I’m so stupid! Thinking everything would be okay for just three months!” He paced around the room, throwing his hands in frustration. “But nooo, the world needs Voltron!” Lance dropped onto his mattress with a sigh, “And you don’t even have the guts to tell your own team that you can't-!” His voice lowered, “that you can't even connect to the Blue Lion anymore. That you haven’t heard her since…,”

Since the druids.

“You really screwed it up this time, Lance.” He put his arm over his eyes as he laid on the bed. It felt squishier than he remembered. He’d nearly thrown a fit at how uncomfortable Altean beds were, but still, it felt too soft. Like he was laying on marshmallows, the stuffing swallowing him up.

“And now,” He sighed again and sat up, “You’re so worked up you can’t sleep. Great job on that one.” He was tired from days without sleep, but his brain wouldn’t let him relax, not yet.

Lance considered his options as his eyes flashed around the room. No one would notice if he didn't go to bed right away. They were probably still on the Bridge with Team Punk.

He poked his head out of his door. The hallway was empty. 

Good.

Lance dropped his jacket next to the pillow he’d knocked to the floor and then closed the doors. A short run, a couple laps maybe. Just to tire him out. Get rid of the small ringing in his ears and then he could sleep.

Finally.

He jogged off towards the abandoned sections of the ship. Not even Coran had bothered to clean up the whole castle.

The deserted corridors worked well for running laps, and he picked up speed with each round.

You can make it to 25 laps.

50’s not that far from 25, you can do that much.

That’s only half of a hundred, you can do three quarters, go 75.

He kept reasoning away more laps. First in groups of 25, then in tens, fives; just one more.

One more.

One more.

Keep going.

Always keep going!

Go!

He paused against the wall, leaning on it for support. His breath harsh and rough in the silence.

His limbs felt like jelly, his mind focused itself on making it back to his room.

His vision zoomed in and out of focus as he walked. He might have, just maybe pushed himself a bit too far. Again.

When he made it to his room, the doors had barely shut before he collapsed to the floor. He curled up against the wall, pulling his jacket over him and bunching up the pillow as the lights dimmed automatically.

His mind was quiet with exhaustion as he fell asleep to the hum of the castle’s machinery.

The hum morphed into a buzz, growing louder and more familiar until it sounded more like,... 

Cheering?

Lance looked around, seeing Pidge and Shiro on the floor behind him. They were in a Galra control room. He’d been here before. He knew this room. It was the mission when he’d been-

“It’s the Arena.”

Lance turned to Shiro’s voice. They were looking at a screen. It was footage. A recording of the Arena, his mind told him.

He moved closer, trying to make out the figures fighting.

It was him. 

He was there, on the screen. They could see him fighting. No no no no no. 

No! I don’t want them to see me! I don’t want them to see this! I don't want to see this.

He looked back up, he was in the Arena now. He wasn’t just watching it. His team could see him, they would hate him. 

But then he noticed his opponent.

“Lance! What are you doing!?” Hunk screamed at him. His body moved on its own.

He couldn’t stop it.

“Hunk! Hunk, you have to move! Run! Please!” Hunk dodged, stepping behind him. Lance’s body kept moving, kept attacking his best friend-

No, wait.

It was Pidge. Pidge was behind him when he turned around. And she was crying. No, she was screaming. He couldn’t tell, could barely hear her past his own apologies.

She begged him to stop, but he didn't. 

“Why can’t I control myself!? What’s wrong with me?!”

“Nothing’s wrong with you now, Paladin. I fixed you, remember?” Haggar’s voice reached through his mind. He could see her in front of him, standing there. They were in a dark room, she was hurting him. Torturing him-

He swung at her, but his fist hit Coran. He hurt Coran. Coran was trying to help him. He was with the team, not Haggar. 

How did he forget that?

“No, no no no, I’m so sorry Coran, I thought you were-” Lance reached for him, but he flinched away from him in fear. 

“I thought of you like a son, my boy.”

“Wait, Coran, I didn’t mean-”

“What have you done!?” He turned around to see Allura running at him. Her energy whip in hand. “Why would I ever like you!? You’re not worthy of being a paladin!” She attacked him, his skin burned where her whip hit. He screamed, but now he couldn’t move. He was stuck there, chained, frozen to his spot.

Allura brought down her whip again, and then it was Shiro. It was Shiro’s prosthetic, they were training together. He blocked Shiro’s hit. They were fighting on the castle. But no, no. 

Lance was lying to him.

“How could you do that to me, Lance? How could-”

“I didn’t think-!”

“Exactly! You never think! You don't do anything! Voltron doesn’t need you!” Shiro was walking away from him. Leaving him behind.

“Wait, Shiro! I-” He reached for his shoulder, Keith turned around.

“Lance, why are you doing this!?” Keith fell back against the sand of the Arena, his face bloody. Lance did that. He can’t control himself. “Lance! Please stop!”

“You’ll always come back, Paladin.” Lance could hear Haggar, but he couldn’t see her this time, “It always comes back here.” 

“Lance!” Keith screamed again.

“I can’t- I can’t control- I don’t know-I’m sorry, I’m sorry” His mind screamed against his body, but he kept attacking. “I don't know how to stop this! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so-”

“Lance, get up!” Suddenly, Keith had the upper hand. He was losing. No no no. 

I can’t lose! I can’t lose in the Arena! If I lose-

“Lance!” Keith was on top of him, he was going to die. He had to fight, he couldn't lose; not now, “You’ve got to wake up!” Lance flipped Keith off of him, expecting the spray of sand as Keith hit the ground. 

But the light of the Arena disappeared, it was dark. There was no sand. No blood. No jeering crowd. 

Keith was still below him. 

He looked terrified.

Lance scrambled away, his back hitting the wall. The cells, he was back in the cells. Why was he- How was-

Lights flicked on, illuminating the room. 

His room. On the castle. 

Not the cells. 

He wasn’t there, he was rescued, safe back on the castle. Which meant-

“Keith,” Lance paused, “I’m so sorry.” He dared a glance at Keith. A bit of tension eased from his shoulders at Keith’s face. Clean, not bloody. He was worried and scared, sure, but at least he wasn’t hurt. Not that Lance could tell at least, “Are you okay?”

Keith finally sat all the way up from the floor, “I should be asking you that, Lance.” He reached a hand towards him, Lance pushed himself farther against the wall.

“Did I hurt you?” Keith’s face saddened but he recovered quickly, covering up the pity as he pulled his hand back.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve had the wind knocked out of me before. This one’s on me, I shouldn’t have grabbed your arm like that when you were having a nightmare.”

Oh. It was a nightmare. Bits and pieces flashed through his mind. He cringed internally, a bad one too.

“Why were you sleeping on the floor by the way?” Keith motioned to the wrinkled pillow and his jacket laying on the floor.

He glanced at his mattress, “The bed’s uncomfortable.” He looked to Keith, “Why’d you wake me up?”

“What?” 

“Why are you in here?” Lance stood up and brushed off his pants, “Why’d you wake me up?” 

“Because you were having a nightmare???” Keith twisted a bit as Lance walked past him to get to his jacket.

“God! What is with you people barging into my room because you think I’m having nightmares?” 

Keith jumped up angrily, “The hell does that mean!? What; you want us to just let you suffer like that?!”

“YES!” Lance whipped around to face Keith.

“And why would we do that?! You were obviously in a lot of pain, you were screaming!”

“Maybe! But at least I was asleep!” Lance yelled at him, “This is first I’ve slept since I’ve been back, so who cares if I have a nightmare!”

“We care, Lance!”

“But I don't! Feel my heart right now,” Lance yanked Keith’s hand and pressed it against his chest, “My heart is still pounding, and it’s enough to silence the ringing. I literally have to work myself to exhaustion just to sleep at all!”

“We just want to help you!”

“Well you’re not! I had to figure how to deal with this on my own! And I did. I know what works for me and what doesn't!” Lance jammed his finger at Keith, “And you don't.”

“Because you don’t tell us anything, Lance!” Keith shouted, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re not exactly including us right now! You leave without saying anything! You brush off our questions and you train for hours on end!”

“Oh, and since when did you become Mr. Team Player all of a sudden! Huh? High and Mighty Lone Wolf Keith! You wouldn’t know teamwork if it slapped you upside the head! And you don't know me, you don't know my reasons for doing things. I don't have to explain myself to you, Kogane.”

“No, you don't, but it would be nice if you at least tried!”

“If you’re gonna force me to change, just take me prisoner and make it official.” Lance’s tone dropped dangerously.

“That wasn't what I-” 

Lance shoved past him with his shoulder, “Next time, just don't wake me up.” He stepped out into the hallway, leaving Keith behind as the door closed between them.

Next: https://snaileer.tumblr.com/post/619677648676929536/chips-salsa-chp-6

First: https://snaileer.tumblr.com/post/613092735756402688/chips-and-salsa-chp-1

[arinaco]

The story of Pidge or Dark Youth as the main character

Translated and edited by @Nadezhda932 

First warning: Plance

Second warning: before reading this meta, I strongly advise you to read the previous metas about Lance and Pidge. Because I won’t repeat the thoughts expressed there, but I will refer to them.

Not so long ago (at the time of writing), a 200th Let’s Voltron podcast took place, where the voicers gathered together and remembered the glorious past when they voiced the series together. And Bex – the voice of Pidge – remembered Plance and compared it to a wonderful little garden. Naturally, this led to the beginning of the discussion, where we analyzed the characters and their interaction with each other. And the idea came up to try to pull the Pidge storyline on Heroine’s Journey. Well, I mean to try to check whether there are those necessary components in her story that allow us to say that yes, this is the real Heroine’s Journey. And, to my pleasure, I suddenly realized that the story arc of Pidge really suits these requirements, and it’s even more interesting in its nuances than the Journey of Allura. Why? Because Allura has a classic story – a girl must become more confident in herself, go against society, save her prince, defeat the evil queen, etc.. Pidge… her situation is the opposite. And I’ll try to explain why.

I’ll begin by describing how the attempt to “pull” the story into the stages of the journey actually takes place. To do this, you need to determine that the storyline of the character doesn’t consist of separate episodes, but has a single common outline that runs through the series, and find several important components in this outline:

A) The drawback of the main character, preventing her from gaining inner balance and harmony;

B) The lowest point of the Journey. The moment when the heroine realizes this shortcoming and begins her work to fix it.

These two things also make it possible to determine what becomes an imaginary reward for a heroine and what becomes a real reward, and thus we begin to perceive individual scenes with the heroine as a single construct – a story about self-digging, which is the Heroine’s Journey.

And the main drawback of Pidge is not only her egoism, because there are a lot of happy egoists in life. The main disadvantage of Pidge is the zero ability for social interaction that developed as a result of this egoism.

As well as an absolute lack of understanding of what is “criminal liability”.

The Holts adored their daughter with blind love, were proud of her mind and indulged in everything, and thereby served her very evil service, because the parents should not only love their child, they should prepare the child for adulthood and set the right moral compass. And, alas, Pidge has serious problems with this. In the series, she appears as a brilliant teenager, but at the same time lagging behind in social development. Not because she’s mentally ill, but because she grew up in an environment where that metaphorical muscle responsible for social skills simply wasn’t trained.

 Honestly, there are not so many ideal parents in the series. These are the parents of Hunk and Dayak, who performed a miracle, having managed to raise a mentally healthy person in an environment that clearly didn’t contribute to such a development of events. The classical educational school of ancient Daibazaal showed a real master class, and it’s a pity that the main characters cost only an orientation course.

The Pidge’s storyline isn’t the main one in the series, but it’s important enough to make an integral picture of her behavior if desired. You need to understand that social interactions are not just “hello – bye” or “let’s be friends against a common enemy” – I would even say that in such situations, skill isn’t required. The skill of social interaction is necessary in order to join the society where you’re only a drop in the ocean of people, and to learn how to live in it, avoiding conflicts. This is the ability to please, and the ability to circumvent sharp corners in communication… and this all needs to be learned. A person isn’t born with these skills, they learns them in the family and in society, and … by the age of 14, Pidge didn’t possess these skills. She often behaved rudely with others, if not boorishly, completely ignoring the status of these people, and this can no longer be attributed to a simple straightforwardness of character.

You may ask: where did all this come from? It’s easy to imagine.

Pidge had greenhouse conditions at home. Parents loved and understood each other and pampered their beloved daughter. The brother was much older, and Pidge didn’t have to be jealous or fight with him for a favorite toy. In addition, the Holt family was united by a love of science and lived, as they say, on the same wavelength. The absence of conflicts and acute angles in the family is wonderful, but alas, it doesn’t at all contribute to the ability to solve the conflicts and circumvent acute angles.

Another teacher is the surrounding society. The child looks at this society, observes and begins to repeat. The child tries to communicate, with alternating success, and draws certain conclusions from the result. And the problem of Pidge is that all her conclusions boiled down to the fact that “they love me because I’m special and smarter than all of them.” She considered herself the smartest and didn’t strive at all, not only to observe how others communicate, but also to try to adapt herself to other people. She didn’t hesitate to interrupt the teacher and make her incompetent, although at the age of 14 you can already understand that this is simply ill-mannered. Moreover, judging by the behavior in the classroom, it wasn’t the first time she acted in this way, but which is characteristic – none of those present was imbued with respect for her knowledge. Because social interaction doesn’t work unilaterally. You can demand only for submission, respect or acceptance is always a two-way work.

Pidge didn’t even realize that she was doing something wrong. She sincerely shared knowledge…

…but you must also be able to share knowledge, so as not to make yourself an arrogant pride.

And the problem is that the Holts didn’t attach any importance to this. After all, they also believed that “Katie is just a special and brilliant girl, and this civilians aren’t able to understand her because of their earthliness, but when she enters the Garrison …”. She entered the Garrison, so what? Her environment consisted only of extremely condescending and patient people – Hunk and Lance, and she rejected their friendship at the first meeting.

You see these people for the first time and don’t even want to spend a couple of minutes getting to know each other.

School is that litmus test that shows how the child will get along in society, and you can’t turn a blind eye for the fact that your child isn’t accepted in this micro-society. You need to work, you need to try to understand what’s wrong, and keep in mind that the problem can be not only in evil peers, but also in your own child, who is an innocent angel only for you.

Because a person is a social animal, and we have a psychological need for respect and recognition. While Pidge was a child, she was fine with her parents, brother and dog, but now a new adult life is knocking on the door, where she wants something more. She’s already 14 years old, even though psychologically she’s 11-13 years old, but she’s already a teenager. And she has a completely positive example of a motherly figure – successful professionally and in her personal life, and she probably wants the same for herself.

Nothing prevented Colleen from being both a brilliant scientist and a charming woman at the same time.

Moreover: Mrs. Holt has a short haircut, which means that having long hair is a personal desire of Pidge. Yes, she doesn’t get along with other children, but she tries to wear beautiful dresses and looks after her magnificent hair. She doesn’t say it out loud, but she clearly feels the need to be accepted not just as a child, but also as a young woman.

And she feels upset when she can’t get in contact with peers.

And here your parents won’t help you.

Yes, mother can say a hundred times that you’re beautiful, but this is not the same as the approval of your friends and the attention of the boys. And Pidge had problems with this, because she pushed peers away and couldn’t even get respect from them for her intellect and knowledge, which, with different behavior, could earn the approval of the teacher and admiration from other children. Because social skills in society are like traffic rules in a stream of cars. You can be a brilliant driver, but you will still be cursed by others if you turn without turning on the turn signal, or if you don’t miss a pedestrian.

But to solve a problem, you need to know about its existence. You need to understand that it’s here, and you need to solve it. And since her beloved relatives assured that everything was fine, Pidge didn’t realize what was wrong until she faced the real consequences of her actions. And this is exactly what the Heroine’s Journey tells. Moreover, the Journey of the Dark Heroine, because Pidge is the real Dark Youth, traveling in a group of the main characters of the series. 

It’s actually not so difficult to distinguish Dark Youth from Light Youth. You just need to look at what’s the main motive for a person to start a journey. Allura traveled for the desire to become the winner of evil, Lance – for the recognition of loved ones, Pidge… for her selfishness. Yes, because her love for relatives is very selfish, and we can clearly see how she treats the love of her relatives in a consumer way when she easily abandons her mother to regain her “property” – her father and brother.

Look at this poor woman. How she got older, how her hair grew – having lost her children and husband, she even stopped monitoring her appearance. But what does Pidge think about in S7 when they prepare to return to Earth? About how she’ll be punished. She doesn’t think about WHAT her mother experienced during all this time. Sorry, but for some reason I’m not too lazy to call my family at the age of 30 and say that everything is fine. And Pidge isn’t a toddler or even 10 years old to behave in this way.

But if Pidge is Dark Youth, then who is our Light Youth and where is our Animus? And here we get a very interesting point: the fact is that the series forms a whole bunch of heroes, where one character has two Dark Youths at once, and the other has two Light ones.

And these ligaments look like this: Lotor-Allura-Pidge and Allura-Pidge-Lance. Funny huh? A sort of love quadrangle.

In the case of Allura and her Dark Youths, the question arises of contrasting the common good and personal desires. Lotor and Pidge are two opposing sides of personality development that pull Allura like a rope in a competition.

Lotor is not just the Dark Youth of Allura. He’s an allusion to her ideal, to which she aspired. Lotor is not a teenager with personality problems, no, he’s a mature – even old – man. He’s a great diplomat and speaker, he’s polite and ready to compromise with everyone, but he never trusts anyone, because he’s constantly stabbed in the back. He’s ready to sacrifice all desires and affections for the fulfillment of the plan for the salvation of the universe, which he once set for himself. He’s confident in himself, he knows what he’s doing, he calculates everything in advance, but at the same time he improvises very well. An ideal politician and strategist with the most noble intentions. And he’s not a friend of the Alteans, not a commander or a king, but the Holy Savior Lotor. An example to follow, who took the cross upon himself – to atone for the sins of his father – and carried it, pushing aside everything personal for the sake of the greater good. He doesn’t allow himself to be angry at people or become attached to them, because all this can ruin his important mission.

So perfect and lifeless…

This is what Allura’s dream of becoming a ray of light for the universe could turn into. Nothing for yourself – everything for others. A lifeless holy idol who has long forgotten about love and personal wishes. The Alteans with their cult of sacrifice will fully approve it.

And Pidge really turns out to be his complete antipode.

Lotor is old, she’s almost a child. Lotor is polite and eloquent, she’s straightforward and often rude. Lotor doesn’t trust anyone, she completely believes her loved ones. Lotor acts for the common good, Pidge – exclusively for personal purposes. Lotor turned his back on his family, because he considered their actions immoral, Pidge fully and completely supports her family, no matter what happens. They can only be united by confidence in what they’re doing is right, but this is not much in which they agree.

An ancient man who wants to save the universe and a little girl demanding to return her dad.

And this pulls Allura in different directions – the dream of serving others and her own desires. None of it can be put on a pedestal, as the path of Allura is the path to a balance between these two aspirations. In the end, it was for a reason that Lotor reached out to her – the lifeless Saint figure really wanted to feel alive again, to love and trust someone. The savior wanted someone to save him.

Pidge’s parallels appear a little different. They say that all families are equally happy, but each suffers in its own way. And how much Lotor and Pidge differ in the role of Dark Youth, so much in the role of Bright Youth are Lance and Allura alike.

The Red Paladin, which should be Blue, and the Blue Paladin, which should become Red. As brother and sister, they go hand in hand in their insecurity, albeit regarding various aspects of life.

And you know, it's funny when you think that the Blue Lion is the right leg and the Green Lion is the left arm. Indeed, opposites.

I've already written about Lance and Pidge. Here I will say that the question of Lance and Pidge's relationship is a question of selfishness. Lance and Pidge both wanted public acceptance. But if Pidge, in pursuit of her family, abandons the idea of ​​establishing contact with others and achieves her goals through conflict and breaking the rules, then Lance, on the contrary, goes out of his way to achieve what he wants, almost pursuing people in attempts to get attention from them.

Funny contrast: Pidge completely neglects her appearance at the start of her journey, while Lance is the only one on the show who takes the time to look after his appearance even in the middle of a war. Beauty is one of the most affordable ways to gain recognition. And if Pidge refuses even it, then Lance clings to attractiveness with his legs and arms, considering it a measure of a person's level of happiness.

Lance is a very compassionate selfless person, but in pursuit of status, he went against his own nature - he began to consider loved ones from a consumer point of view. And crossing with Pidge on this subject should have made him stop, take a look at himself and what he was doing. Take a look and think about it at last.

On the other hand, Lance is also a subject of interest. This is a childlike innocent affection that Katie developed towards the end of the story. Lance may not be the most attractive man, but he's an open and cheerful person who gave Pidge exactly what she lacked in school - sincere friendship and acceptance with all her flaws. Katie is still quite small in this regard, this is not some kind of serious romantic love, but this is a strong feeling, which over time, over the years, can turn into something more mature.

Having fun with friends is what Katie has dreamed of since school.

He is Pidge's Animus. A person with similar problems, but with the opposite approach to solving them.

It’s interesting that at the beginning of the journey it was Lance who didn’t notice until the last moment that Katie was a girl.

Everything is a little more complicated with Allura: Allura doesn’t appeal primarily to Pidge’s egoism, but to social skills. Yes, the idea of sacrifice is close to Allura as an Altean, and it is opposed to the egoism of the Green Paladin. But the main thing is different: Allura is polite, educated, diplomatic and, in the end, accepted and loved by society as an amazingly beautiful woman. And this is what Pidge would like for herself, without even realizing this need. On the other hand, Allura’s professional skills are forgotten by S8, those around her begin to perceive her only as a pretty alien girl, against the backdrop of the triumph of Pidge, whose ingenious mind is recognized in the professional circle of scientists.

And if Allura in the changed S8 turns into a damsel in distress for a noble knight who will worship her like the Virgin Mary, then Pidge becomes that very caricatured strong and independent woman, only instead of 40 cats she has robots. It’s caricatured, because it’s the image of a woman who declares that she doesn’t need anyone, and then, in longing for human warmth, she turns herself on to a pet in order to sublimate her psychological needs. In the case of Pidge, she builds herself a metal brother. And in ten years she’ll also build a metal lover, why not.

The truth is that a person is happy only when they realize themselves both professionally and personally. There’s a huge number of people who put their lives on the altar of some important mission, but later not so much of them could call themselves happy. On the other hand, there are a lot of women who abandoned their ambitions for the sake of marriage, and then regret it until their death.

So what is it – Pidge’s Heroine Journey? Let’s look at it in stages.

Stage 1 – Separation from the feminine.

Pidge is a teenager of 14 years old. She has problems with her peers, she can’t find a common ground with them, and therefore clings to her family – her cozy mini-world, comfort zone. But here a tragedy occurs: father and brother disappear on an expedition. Pidge finds out that something is unclear in this case, but the father’s authorities refuse to explain the situation, and she decides to find the answers in a not too legal way – secretly, despite all the prohibitions.

Feminine figure and beautifully decorated room…

…all this was left in the past.

This is very symbolic: Pidge leaves her mother alone to experience the tragedy and cuts off her hair – a symbol of her femininity.

Katie is not at all happy to lose her beautiful curls

Stage 2 – Identification with the masculine and gathering of allies

Pidge studies at the Garrison in the company of Hunk and Lance, hiding under the guise of a homely boy. At first she repels them, but since they’re a team, she has to communicate with them. But instead of making friends and learning to communicate, Pidge spends all her efforts looking for information about the family. Meanwhile, she begins to have confidence in Hunk and Lance, finds common interests with them, and gradually these two in her eyes pass from the category of strangers into the category of the ones whom she can even tell her secret.

And when Pidge once again can’t keep her mouth shut…

…it’s Lance who protects her.

Stage 3 – Road of trials, meeting ogres and dragons

Shiro's return and the beginning of their journey. Pidge grabs any lead to find her father and brother, and is even ready to give up everything and everyone for the ghostly opportunity to save the family. On the other hand, one way or another, she begins to become attached to the people around her. True, this attachment is selfish. Pidge worries about the safety of her friends, but she isn't interested in what they grieve and worry about. Her fixation on the family is in stark contrast to the fact that the main leadership backbone of the team - Allura, Shiro, Keith and Koran - are orphans who have no loved ones except for each other and a common cause.

Keith with his desire to save Shiro is certainly disingenuous, but he described Pidge's problem correctly...

Stage 4 – Finding the boon of success

Pidge finds her brother and saves his father. But at what cost? The height of selfishness is to send a person to certain death, without even trying to give him a chance for being rescued. And personally for Pidge, this person is only to blame for the fact that he's not included in the circle of her loved ones - the circle of those whom she considers her "property". But she still gets her way, she saves her family, without any remorse. And then she has fun with friends who have already become family members for her - part of that very micro-world.

And it was during this period that Pidge appeared in the game as the most closed character, fenced off by armor from other people.

And the mess in her room as an indicator that Pidge wasn’t going to invite guests at her place…

Stage 5 – Awakening to feelings of spiritual aridity; death

Homecoming. As people say, be careful of what you wish for. Pidge constantly tried to leave friends and other people behind, in the pursuit of saving the family; as a result, when she returns home, she’s grounded. Now, her circle of loved ones is forcibly composed only of her parents and brother. Moreover, the most annoying thing happens: Lance invites Allura on a date. Lance complained to Hunk for several weeks about being unworthy of Allura, while Hunk listened sympathetically. And there was no one who could interrupt the flow of this whining, because this someone was sitting at home. As a result, Hunk persuades Lance to go out and invite Allura on a date, and she unexpectedly agrees.

And after so many days of isolation, Pidge is free only to find out that Lance is going on a date with Allura. Pidge liked Lance, she even tried to compliment him, although unsuccessfully – and now he sailed away to a beautiful princess, and Pidge could only watch this process.

A scene called “She tried”.

She even helps to arrange this date: to get Allura the dress for which she gives the game – the subject of their common interest with Lance. But that’s where her altruism ends: she doesn’t stand it and decides to follow them, because until the last she hopes that Allura will refuse Lance, but this doesn’t happen.

Yes, Pidge is respected as a scientist, but how much does it mean if the person dear to her, whose attention she values, is now fully devoted to his new girlfriend? You can say as much as you like that they’re a team of paladins, but we know very well that couples are always a little apart, as they feel like spending time together.

And Katie knew perfectly well that now Lance is unlikely to find time to play with her.

Stage 6 – Initiation and Descent to the Goddess

Here’s a difficult moment. The fact is that this moment takes place in S8, in an episode that was originally intended for S7. And I can’t help but wonder if it should have taken place in the earlier version of the script, because according to the logic of the travel, Pidge should have it. This conversation takes place in a dead forest, where Pidge and Allura are left alone at some point, and Pidge, who saw how Allura saved the tree, asks if she can help Olkarion. After this, Katie has to admit that yes – she followed them, and naturally the question of Lance’s feelings will be raised.

Allura is Pidge’s Light Youth. She agreed to a date with Lance out of feeling guilty and out of gratitude for his concern. Her consent is pure sacrifice, altruism. And she admits it while talking to Pidge. That yes, she doesn’t have feelings for him, but he loves her. Remember the first episodes, where Pidge confidently says that a princess in her place would do the same. But now she sees that Allura, on the contrary, is ready to sacrifice the personal for the sake of someone else’s good. And this makes her think, because Lance chose Allura.

Throughout the series, Pidge was not very friendly with the princess. When Allura found out that Pidge was by no means a boy, she was the first to welcome Pidge as a girl, because having only men in her social circle wasn’t very comfortable for a girl. But then Pidge kept in mind only the search for a family and simply didn’t understand that she was offered girlish friendship. But now, in this situation, Katie was the only one to whom Allura entrusted her “female” secret, and the Green Paladin saw her tragedy and in some ways even managed to share it. Pidge saw in her not a rival, but a person who had lost absolutely everything and was ready to sacrifice the little that was left of her.

You know, at the first meeting with the Olkari, Pidge says that she’s very far from nature, she’s closer to technology and robots, to which she doesn’t need to adapt. This can be considered a metaphor for how she pushes living people away from her, how she turns away from a simple human desire to realize herself socially. 

And it is very symbolic that the bottom point of the journey occurs precisely in the middle of the dead Olkarion.

Stage 7 – Urgent yearning to reconnect with the feminine

After talking with Allura, Pidge begins to look at the situation in a new light. She’s still upset that Lance is now devoting all his time to his new girlfriend, but now sees him not as an “escaped property”. Now for her he’s a really unhappy guy deserving of support, not ridicule. She generally begins to reconsider her position towards people, although this is a very slow process.

When they leave to celebrate Clear Day, she leaves her family — which she saved with such zeal — for the sake of helping Lance get a present for Allura. For the sake of the opportunity to stay with a loved one and find a gift for his girlfriend. And she sincerely seeks to please Allura, because she really imbued with sympathy for her. And when Lance tells her how useless he feels, Katie tries to support him, inspire, and somehow help him solve the problem of relations with another girl. And for a spoiled egoist, this is a very serious step towards change.

By the way, did you notice that in Clear Day episode there’s not a single scene of the interaction between Pidge and Lance, although Katie knows from somewhere that Allura asked for a present? It was cut out while editing S8.

What kind of torment would you go for friends?

Unfortunately, I can only assume what the next steps should look like, too much has been cut.

We know that Allura will decide to announce to the paladins that she’s going to save Lotor, and perhaps Pidge will be the second after Lance to support her in this. Maybe she will even play a role in ensuring that the conversation between Allura and Lance takes place.

She will be next to Lance after the return of the prodigal prince and will morally support him. Perhaps they will even play the game as they dreamed in their podcasts. They’re still children who are just entering adulthood, and after everything they have experienced, they must find a place for joy.

In addition, Pidge has guilt before Lotor, and after her selfish behavior it’ll be important that she realize this and apologize. In general, this will be a lesson for her: a lesson in acknowledging her wrong, and a lesson in humility. The beginning of a long journey of working on oneself, which will allow Pidge to finally realize herself not only professionally, but also personally. It’ll allow her to stop repelling the world, accept it, and learn to swim with everyone in a single stream of the river called “life”.

After all, green is the color of life. As well as blue.

[dragonofyang]

Hi! Does Lotor also go through heroine's journey, or hero's, or is he just Allura's shadow/animus?

Hello!! The short answer to your question is no, Lotor does not undergo either a Hero’s or Heroine’s Journey, but he is Allura’s Animus and Shadow Figure. (He’s also a Shadow Figure to Keith as Keith undergoes a less conventional Hero’s Journey.)

However, as with all things pertaining to Lotor, it’s a bit reductive to call him “just” that. And frankly, I love rambling about Heroine’s Journeys and all its nuts and bolts, so you’re getting the long answer, too. :D

The Animus figure is the masculine counterpart to the Anima, and in a patriarchal society, male-coded urges and desires are discouraged in girls, but rewarded nonetheless (i.e. “don’t romp in the mud” and “be a lady” versus “being one of the boys”). As a result, a lot of girls are socialized to have a very unhealthy relationship with their self-worth because they’ll be punished for displaying the same desires as their male counterparts. You see a similar thing with men in adages like “boys don’t cry” and “don’t be a pussy”. So in a Heroine’s Journey, the Animus is a character who externally represents the Heroine’s masculine energy, and rather than demanding the Heroine engage in the same patriarchal structure that punishes her for being emotional, the Animus will foster that emotional side and treat it with the same respect that the logical side receives from the patriarchal society, only the Animus does so without punishing the Heroine for being a complex and nuanced individual.

So yes, Lotor is the Animus to Allura’s Anima, and he is absolutely necessary to her development as a Heroine, because he provides her the freedom to cultivate her own desires without imposing his structure upon her.

Lotor is also her Shadow, by the same measure. The Shadow figure in a Heroine’s Journey is a character who represents something or somethings that the Heroine is afraid of, disgusted by, or otherwise has negative feelings towards. In Allura’s case, she’s reeling from the grief of losing her entire planet, her people, her father, and the Galra are easy to paint as a mindless horde with the face of Zarkon. However, Lotor is not just his father. He’s his father’s son, yes, but Lotor is also the son of an Altean: Honerva. He’s cunning, efficient, ruthless in battle, and until he opts to parlay with Team Voltron, he’s an enemy. Not just any enemy, either. He’s the Emperor Pro Tem of the Galra Empire. To Allura, Lotor represents everything she feared and hated, and suddenly she has to reassess her entire worldview because here is this man who does not fit in the neat little box she has assigned the Galra, because he himself is not all Galra. So if this man who is not all Galra and does not fit in the mental image she has of Galra (which… really… that’s just Zarkon), but he is Galra all the same, then what does that mean for her worldview? Lotor puts Allura in the position of questioning the righteousness of her quest (bestowed by her father, Alfor), by virtue and circumstance of his birth. Here is the son of her nemesis, offering her intel to further her cause and eventually forming a true alliance with her, so if he himself is not the mindless drone of Zarkon, then she must reexamine what she thinks she knows to accommodate the data she has.

So Lotor is devil and angel, he’s the character that Allura thinks she should fear the most, but he’s also the character that guides her to greater self-acceptance than she ever could have achieved if she wasn’t confronted with her own internalized bias against the Galra. He is the sword to her neck and the hand helping her up, she forges her inner fire across the battlefield from him, and he stokes that same fire into a creative force when they stand side by side under the banner of their late fathers.

By the same vein, Lotor is Keith’s Shadow, though he forces Keith to confront his mistakes, rather than a bias he holds. Keith’s Journey is about leadership and bringing outsiders into the fold. Lotor wasn’t meant to be left in the Rift, and he’s a character who has been pushed to the fringes of the Empire, as well as an outcast for his heritage. He’s the perfect character for this aspect of Keith’s arc. Lotor is a literary foil to Keith, since their life experiences are almost exact opposites, but two facts join them together: they are leaders and they are half-Galra. So Keith has to come into his leadership role in Black Lion, but he must learn to temper his impulsiveness, and that includes owning up to leaving Lotor in the rift, just like how he had to give up on chasing Lotor on Thayserix and come back for his team when they got lost. Lotor pushes Keith away from impulsive decisions, albeit indirectly (like when he tries to destroy the shielding in the Battle of Naxzella), and frankly there are places where their roles could have been reversed if they made different choices. If Keith hadn’t learned to rely on and communicate with the team, then they could have turned on him the way Acxa, Ezor, and Zethrid turned on Lotor. Conversely, if Lotor had been honest from the start about his motivations to Allura and told her about the colony, it’s possible she would have been even more motivated to help him save the survivors of Altea.

All in all, Lotor is a complex character in a complex role, so while he isn’t inherently a Hero or Heroine, without him, Keith and Allura’s arcs would be less powerful. He reflects their fears and mistakes, but he also highlights their virtues, and through them his own become apparent.

Thanks for asking!!

[omegawizardposting]

With Lotor’s arc at its conclusion, here are my final thoughts:

I still feel, personally, that the overall narrative would have been better served by his survival than it was by his death.

Lotor is shown to be manipulative and willing to sacrifice others to get what he wants early on, but the two examples we’re given prior to S6E4, Throk and Narti, were a bloodthirsty Galra whose life was ultimately spared, and one of Lotor’s own generals who was being controlled by Haggar. His betrayal of them was warranted.

You can, of course, argue that Narti was innocent, but her death showcases Lotor’s willingness to sacrifice the few to save the many--a decision real-world leaders must sometimes make themselves, especially during wartime. In this way, we are shown that Lotor is a true leader, who understands the necessity of sacrifice.

That said, Lotor sacrifices when necessary, not without good cause. Even during his scouting of Team Voltron, while attempting to determine their worth as allies, he does not harm the Puigians; he gives his generals an explicit command to kill no one. Thus, at the same time we are shown his skill in manipulation, we are shown his commitment to non-violence whenever possible.

Knowing both of these things about him, I stand by my previous stance regarding his treatment of the Altaens at the colony. He founded the Altaen colony out of a genuine desire to preserve their (and his) culture, and while he is an extremely driven individual, I feel that he would do whatever he could to find an alternative to harvesting them for their quintessence. He has gone out of his way to preserve life before, when ending it would have been more efficient.

Given the Altaens’ loyalty to Lotor, it is entirely possible that they would have volunteered themselves for his projects. Working together, they more than likely could have come up with a solution that preserved as many Altaen lives as possible, and those who did perish would have done so willingly, with full knowledge of what they were giving their lives for.

This could still have led to a confrontation between Lotor and Team Voltron, but one that could have eventually been worked through. I feel that this would have better showcased the differences in their morals, as well as exploring the darker side of warfare, in which sacrifices must be made, without stripping Lotor of any chance at redemption.

As a final note regarding Lotor’s characterization, his abrupt descent into madness goes entirely against his character. At this point, he has not entered the quintessence field and become corrupted by it. All Allura says is that he is more like Zarkon than she ever could have imagined, and suddenly he can’t be reasoned with. He goes from diplomacy to murder in an instant, when he had never been shown to be so unstable.

Additionally, his desire to rule, as his father once did, is equally abrupt. I believe by the time he starts ranting about universal domination, he has already been in the quintessence field at least once during his battle with the Lions, so it’s possible this was the quintessence talking. His exposure must have been quite mild, however, so I can’t say one way or another if this is bad characterization or the quintessence’s corrupting agent at play.

Here’s an unpopular opinion, but Canon!Lotor had a good point: he sacrificed a few hundred Altaens in order to save billions of lives all across the universe. While “Cool Motive, Still Murder” does apply, it doesn’t necessarily mean that his reasoning was flawed. A leader must be willing to make tough calls. Sometimes those calls cost a few people their lives, but save many more.

Does that make him a hero? No, absolutely not. At the end of the day, murder is murder, and even if it is committed in pursuit of a better world, you cannot wash that blood off of your hands. It does make sense, though, and is, frankly, a more realistic approach to ending the Galra Empire than Team Voltron’s insistence on saving every life.

I still think that this course of action, no matter how sensible, does not suit the character Lotor was shown to be.

I could go on and on about Lotor’s characterization and how his final few episodes fly in the face of every single bit of it, but I’d be here all day. Suffice it to say, I do not agree with how his story ended, and genuinely believe that he should have been a redeemable character. As a redeemable character, he was compelling; as a villain, he was not.

Now it’s time for me to dive into the final two seasons, neither of which I have seen more than maybe a single episode of! Wish me luck!

[justheretobreakthings]

Kings Over Aces - Chapter 5

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Word Count: 4,442 (Total Word Count: 19,551) Read on AO3

Story Summary:

The Voltron Coalition has an alliance in the works with the resource-rich planet of Yuipra, and it’s the paladins’ job to keep on the king’s good side while the deal is made. That shouldn’t shouldn’t be too great a challenge; after all, they’ve courted plenty of planets before for the sake of alliances.

Unfortunately, things are made much more complicated when the king takes a special interest in Keith.

Chapter content warning for non-consensual touching and attempted rape.

For the first few moments after Olren straightened up from the ground, told the guards holding Keith to “prepare” him, and turned to sweep out of the garden, the guards hauling Keith to his feet to follow, he was numb. His head was spinning with too many thoughts, too much terror, to properly grasp onto any single thread, and the world around him seemed distant, unreal. The only thing coming more into focus was the sounds in his earpiece, the voices of his teammates that sounded almost as horrified as he felt. They all ran together in his ear, and he couldn’t distinguish one speaker from the other.

“Keith, Keith it’s okay, it’s going to be okay - ”

“Shiro, get in Red with me, it’s faster!”

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy - ”

“We’re on our way, just hold on!”

As he was led out of the garden and into the courtyard, Keith stumbled over his feet, nearly falling to the ground in his daze if weren’t for the guards on either side of him yanking him back upright and the one behind him giving him a rough shove and grunting, “Move.”

Somehow, that seemed to bring him back into focus, into full awareness of what was happening, what was about to happen. And he couldn’t let it. He just couldn’t. His team had been giving him reassurances, it seemed like they were on their way, but they’d have to make the trip down here and get into the palace and through the guards… by the time they reached him, he might be - Olren might already have -

He couldn’t wait for them. He had to get out of there now.

He let out a sudden yell, swinging his legs forward and bringing the heels back with all the strength he had in him. And either the blow was strong enough or he had sufficiently managed to take the guards by surprise, because their holds loosened. Not enough to drop him yet, but enough for him to yank his arms out of their grasp as he propelled himself off the guard behind him and leaped forward, sprawling across the stonework of the courtyard.

Panting, he scrambled to his feet, diving out of the way just in time before one of the guards snatched his ankle and running toward the opposite entryway. Olren had already gone in ahead of them, so it was a risk going back into the palace, but it was certainly better than going back into the guards’ hands, and he knew the way back to the main entry. If he was just fast enough, if he could just dodge anyone who tried to make a grab for him, he could make it.

On leaden legs he flew into the oncoming corridor, the clanking of the guards’ armor close behind him, shouting something, probably ordering him to stop, but it was drowned out both by the pounding of adrenaline, and Coran and Allura in his ear frantically assuring him that the others were on their way.

Keith kept his pace up until the next corner, where he was brought to a sudden and unceremonious halt when a quarterstaff came swinging into his gut. With a choked grunt, he doubled over, eyes watering at the form of yet another guard standing before him. This one must have been patrolling the halls, must have heard the commotion. Keith tried to lurch around him, but the guard was fast, already delivering another blow, this time into his chest, sending Keith stumbling backward and right into the metal armor of the guards who’d been pursuing him.

“Keith, are you all right?!” Allura cried.

He tried to think of a way to reassure her that he was - sure, he could feel some fantastic bruises blossoming across his throbbing torso, but that was nowhere near as bad as what the king had in store - but he didn’t have time to, what with the guards lifting him off his feet from under his arms, roughly turning him back around. He struggled in their hold, legs flailing, but the guards were better at bracing themselves for it this time after his last near escape.

“Let go of me!” Keith shouted, fruitlessly trying to pull away. “Let me go!”

“You’re only making things difficult for yourself, paladin,” one of the guards said. “First disrespecting our king, now insisting on fighting us…”

Coran let out a sound of indignation. “He deserves to be disrespected, you quiznakking son of a - ”

Keith jerked in the guards’ hold again, and one of them responded by shoving Keith against the nearest wall with a grunt. Keith growled, trying and failing to pull himself away from the wall, and aimed to bite at the gloved hand holding his shoulder in place.

A guard took a fistful of his hair and slammed his head sideways into the wall, and Keith let out a cry as his ear hit brick and his earpiece suddenly blared a high-pitched whine, like microphone feedback right up against his eardrum. Another slam, and with a pop, the earpiece went dead, the panic-stricken voices of the Alteans suddenly replaced with a terrifying silence.

His vision swam as he was pulled away from the wall, and he could feel the warm sensation of blood starting to trickle down from where his head had been hit. The guards tightened their grip as they started moving him down the hall again, lifting him between two of them so that his toes barely grazed the floor. Keith continued to struggle, but now more as a show than an actual effort to break free; it didn’t look as though it would do him any good to keep trying, but he had to keep up the pretense, had to still seem like he was fighting back.

Even if that fire was burnt out, smothered by the silence in his head where the voices of his teammates were supposed to be and by the indignity of everything he’d been through that evening and that still was yet to come.

The throbbing from his head injury made it difficult to concentrate on the world around him as he was dragged through corridors and stairwells, and the end came abruptly when they reached the polished door of the king’s bedchamber. Yet another guard stood at attention outside it, and the guard behind Keith muttered something to him as they entered. The former nodded and started down the hall and out of Keith’s view as he was carted toward the bed.

The bed itself was fairly large, the equivalent of a king-sized mattress back on Earth - fittingly, considering its occupant here - with a high canopy and wrought metal frame that spiraled into intricate patterns where the headboard would typically be. The duvet on top was textured like silk, Keith discovered as two of the guards slammed him onto the bed on his back, holding his arms in place even as he kicked out and arched his back. His head, after one of the guards slammed it back into the metal frame with a grunted order to stop kicking, sank easily into the plump, soft pillow.

Under any other circumstances, this bed would have been the coziest thing Keith had ever slept on. Now, the idea of feeling even the slightest hint of comfort in this plushiness was a sickening thought.

Only moments after he’d been pressed onto the bed, the guard who’d been outside the door returned, something dangling between his hands. He passed the object to one of the other guards, and Keith got a glimpse of it - a set of manacles, gold like so much else in this godforsaken palace, with thick cuffs and a short but sturdy length of chain between them - before it was being snapped onto his wrist. The guard threaded the chain through one of the iron spirals on the headboard, grabbed Keith’s free arm in a bone-crushing grasp when the latter attempted to throw a punch, and locked the other cuff into place.

Keith pulled away, tried to tug at the chain, but there was no give in it at all. “You needn’t bother,” one of the guards said. “Those things never break.”

Never…

A sinking feeling flooded the pit of his stomach. The guards had used these manacles before. They needed no further instruction when Olren told them to prepare him. The king had spoken of how this was necessary for a “true” alliance, had taken for granted that it was coming.

He had done this before. He had been prepared, tonight, for the possibility of doing it again. For all Keith knew, he was the latest in a line of victims that could have started back when Olren first took the throne.

Could they have known this, going in? Could they have found out what Olren was truly like, talked with other planets and organizations that Yuipra was allied with and realized how “alliances” were made here? If they had done that, if they hadn’t just gone on the blind faith that Yuipra was still the same upstanding planet that it was thousands of years ago, they could have done something. They could have stopped this.

Now, it was too late.

Despite the obvious inefficacy of the action, Keith kept yanking at the cuffs, pulling himself as far forward as he could go, no doubt leaving a mess of bruises on his wrists as he did. Maybe, he reasoned, if he just dislocated the thumb, tore some of the skin, he’d be able to get one of them off. After that, he could perhaps use the chain as a weapon, fight the guards off before making a break for it.

He had made no progress, though, by the time the guards held down his ankles and pulled his shoes from his feet. They were the flimsy dress shoes Coran had given him to go with his outfit rather than his trusty boots, so they slipped off with ease. He didn’t think too much of it, until the cold hands of one of the guards moved higher, trailing along his legs and under the hem of the tunic, grabbing his waistband.

Immediately he let out a cry, flailing in the guards’ grasps as hard as he could. He managed to free one leg, and with his heel caught one of them in the chin. It was a victory, if a small one, but it didn’t last long, as two of the guards grabbed the offending leg with both hands. “We told you,” one growled. “To stop kicking.”

There was a snap, and Keith had to bite his lip to keep them from getting the satisfaction of hearing him keen in pain as they dropped his now-broken ankle back onto the bed. Their hands moved back up once more, but were interrupted again, this time by the opening of a door off to the side.

“You are dismissed,” Olren’s voice said. “I can take it from here.”

As one the guards released their hold on him and moved away, beating a retreat out the way they came, and Keith turned to see the king approaching. Apparently the reason he’d gone ahead was to give himself time to remove his many gaudy accessories. This was Keith’s first time seeing him without his crown, or the jewels he wore around his neck and wrists. The layers of robes and capes were gone too, replaced by a simple dressing gown. In contrast to his usual appearance, he seemed positively gaunt now, the eerie elongation of his limbs more starkly pronounced.

His sinister smile, though, was just the same as ever as he swept toward the bed and grinned down at Keith. “Hello, paladin Keith,” he said. “I trust you’ve made yourself comfortable?”

“You’re a fucking monster,” Keith snarled in reply.

Olren just scoffed as he sat down on the bed. “I’d have to disagree with you there. All this evening, I have been nothing but good to you. I’ve been honest and open, I’ve lavished you in affection and offered you the wealth of my kingdom. You, on the other hand, have been duplicitous, manipulative, and above all, cowardly. Which one of us is the monster, Keith?”

With an exasperated-sounding sigh, he rolled further onto the bed, and pressed his hands onto Keith chest as he straddled him, one knee outside either hip, and leaned in toward his face. “You’re lucky, you know, that I’m so good at taming monsters.”

Keith growled wordlessly and lurched again, trying to arch himself up and kick out with his good leg, but Olren simply laughed. “Now, now, don’t get ahead of me, Keith. Though your enthusiasm is admirable, I prefer to work up to the action. Admire the toy before I play with it.” His hands trailed up, fingers coming to rest at Keith’s collar. Keith froze, and for a moment, he was certain that Olren had spotted the tiny microphone mounted against the stitched pattern. But instead, Olren reached for the button at the side, over the shoulder, and began unzipping the garment. Keith wasn’t sure which was worse.

Once the top was fully unzipped, Olren yanked at the material, tearing the sleek fabric along the seams of the sleeves and tossing it aside, leaving Keith’s chest bare. It rose and fell along with Keith’s trembling breaths, and he shuddered as a cold finger trailed up the breastbone. “Beautiful,” Olren said. “Strapping. All that hard work as a paladin, it keeps you fit, doesn’t it.”

“Fuck you,” Keith snapped.

“You can,” Olren said. “Soon. First, if you don’t mind…” His fingers brushed across Keith’s chest. “It’s like untrodden snow, isn’t it? So tempting, to leave a mark.”

Keith closed his eyes and held back a whimper as Olren leaned down, pressing his lips to his sternum. The king trailed slimy kisses up his torso, each one feeling like acid on his skin, until he reached the collarbone. At the sharp sting there, Keith gasped and opened his eyes, moving his gaze down in horror. “Did you - did you just bite me?!” he cried.

Olren smiled up at him, and Keith could see red dotted on the tips of a few of his pointed teeth. “I did say earlier that you were delectable. And now I know for certain. Just couldn’t resist.”

He trailed further upward, leaving the spoor of his lips in a path climbing up Keith’s neck a toward his jaw, before digging his hands into the latter’s hair and lifting his head toward him so their eyes were barely an inch apart. “You are irresistible, Keith,” he whispered. “But ever the tease. It’s almost tragic, the way you try to refuse me.” He brushed a finger over Keith’s lips. “In the end, though, I must admit, it only makes you that much more alluring.”

After one more of his sickening smiles, he pulled Keith in, inhaling him into another of those abhorrent kisses. Keith’s face and throat burned as that dreaded tongue snaked its way in again, and when trying to pull back proved useless, he decided if Olren could bite, so could he. He snapped his teeth down onto the tongue as hard as he could.

Olren reeled back with a satisfying yelp, dropping Keith back onto the pillow to bring his hands to his mouth, and when he lowered them, blank-faced, Keith was rewarded by a glimpse of dark green blood smeared across his top finger. He only had a tick to enjoy that moment of triumph, though, as before he even had time to see it coming, Olren delivered a sharp backhand slap to his face, snapping his head to the side and leaving his jaw throbbing.

“Even now,” Olren said, his voice low and cold. “You still insist on putting up a fight.” Slowly, he lifted his hand to wrap the icy fingers around Keith’s throat, and as he brought his face forward, he squeezed, not enough to cut off Keith’s airflow entirely, but enough to prove that he could. “Why do you do this to me, Keith?” he asked as he moved his knee so that it was digging into Keith’s gut. “Why are you so determined to treat me with such contempt? I am taking only what I deserve.” The hand that wasn’t gripping Keith by the neck took his shoulder, and the nails dug into his skin before Olren slowly moved the hand downward, tearing a trail of claw marks in its wake. “To so many, this time with me is an honor, a gift. But you see it as a punishment. Well, it cannot be said of me that I am an unreasonable man. So for your sake - ” He dropped Keith’s neck and moved both hands to the latter’s hips. “ - I’ll get this over with.”

In a single swift motion he flipped Keith over onto his stomach, and his wrists strained against their cuffs as the chain links twisted as far as they could, his arms taut and contorted above his head. Keith couldn’t hold back a yelp in response to the jostling of his injured torso, which, to his fury, elicited another light laugh from Olren. He squirmed as he felt hot breath against the back of his neck, the king’s fingers moving his hair out of the way with delicate motions.

“I know this is your first time,” Olren whispered. “So I’ll be careful about breaking you in. Make it gradual.” He nibbled at Keith’s earlobe, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to still make Keith retch as the king moved down to kiss his neck.

“Please,” Keith said, and he hated that he was begging, hated that Olren got the pleasure of hearing him break, but nothing else had been working, not the insults or the struggling, and this was the only option that remained, the only chance he had left of getting out of this, however slim that chance may be. “Please, don’t do this…”

“Paladin Keith, you’re crying,” Olren said softly, and he was right. Keith hadn’t even noticed that it had started, but as he blinked against the sting in his eyes, he felt the sticky trails of tear tracks down his cheeks. Olren reached a finger around to Keith’s face and wiped a tear away, then licked the fingertip. “You know - ” He tugged Keith’s head back by the hair, wrenching it around so it was partially facing him. “Your eyes are even prettier this way. It’s remarkable.”

“Please,” Keith repeated, his voice cracking on the word. “You can’t - you know this is wrong. You can’t do - ”

Olren tutted. “Don’t aim to tell me what I cannot do, Keith. Many have tried. They’ve all been wrong.” His hand slithered down Keith’s back, stopping to grasp his waistband, and Keith choked out a sob as he started pulling his pants downward. “Come now, no need to fret. It’s always better when we’re both enjoying ourselves.”

Keith’s only response was another hitched cry, and Olren sighed as he finished removing the pants and tossed them to the floor. “Very well,” he said. “In that case, I do better without the interruption.” He shoved Keith’s head forward, muffling his cries into the pillow even as his whole body shook with distress. Keith could hardly breathe, positioned as he was, and he had to fight hard for air as he heard Olren start removing his own dressing gown and his sobs only sped up.

“Now,” Olren said into his ear, voice low and dark and dangerous. “Time to get star- ”

A abrupt slam cut him off, followed by a bizarrely familiar blast, and suddenly Olren’s chilling grip on him went slack as the king collapsed, his half-naked body draped over Keith’s. Keith froze, at first unwilling to believe it, and Olren didn’t move. Keith managed to twist his head just enough to get a glimpse at the figure on top of him, and saw that the king’s eyes were closed, his body limp, deadweight.

Keith lay flat a moment longer, breath coming in raspy, hiccoughing gasps, before the weight on him was lifted and he was able to turn himself around fully and see what had managed to stop his nightmare in its tracks.

The door to the room had been thrown wide open, and Lance stood in the entryway, his blaster in his hands. Even from this distance Keith could see the way the bayard was trembling in his grip, and the unusual pallor in his face. Beside the bed, Shiro had Olren in his arms, none-too-gently moving him to deposit onto the floor.

Keith’s eyes locked onto Olren’s half-dressed form, and he felt his heartbeat in his throat as he asked, “Is - is he - ?”

“He’s not dead,” Lance said. “I’ve got it set to stun. Regicide probably isn’t a good look for Voltron. But believe me, it was a tough call…” He gulped, his eyes flicking to Keith before pointedly returning to Olren, and Keith suddenly felt all too aware of the position he was currently in, his nakedness, which both Lance and Shiro were carefully avoiding looking at. The humiliation of it all made him want to shrivel up into nothingness.

“There’s still time to change our minds on that one,” Shiro grunted. He moved toward the head of the bed, taking care to keep his eyes off of Keith and instead focused on the manacles as he pulled out a lockpick and got to work.

Keith swallowed, breathing through his nose as he tried to get his heart rate back down to normal, but that didn’t seem to be happening anytime soon, so he put his focus into keeping still long enough for Shiro to unlock the cuffs. Lance approached slowly, and he delicately moved the duvet from where it was tucked into the foot of the bed and draped it over Keith as far as it could go. With Keith still stretched out on the bed, the blanket only reached his navel, but that was still enough to hide the most sensitive areas, so it was a marked improvement. “Thanks,” Keith rasped.

“Shit, Mullet, don’t thank us,” said Lance. “You wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place if we hadn’t - if we - ” He gulped. “Are you, um - did he - did he…?”

The tears started flowing again, unbidden, and Keith sniffed before answering in a choked voice, “No. Almost, but - but no.”

“Okay,” said Lance. “That’s - that’s good. I mean, it’s not - it isn’t good, it’s - it’s better than - than if it - I mean the whole thing is - Christ.” He wiped a hand over his face with a sigh. “God, Keith, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I - ”

“Don’t,” Keith said softly. “Not now.”

Lance turned away, and above Keith’s head he heard a click before Shiro muttered, “Got it,” and tossed the handcuffs away. Gratefully Keith brought his arms down, wincing at the stiffness left from the strain. Shiro moved around into Keith’s line of sight, his jaw stiff and eyes looking as tired as Keith had ever seen them. “Keith?” he said. “It’s - it’s good to see you. I, uh - ” He took a deep breath. “Let’s, um, just focus on getting you back to the Castle. Everything else - you’ve had enough for one day.”

“Yeah,” Keith said.

“Shiro,” Lance said, turning back to them. “Coran wants to know if there’s any big injuries besides the ones they saw already.” He tapped at his helmet. “Hang on, Coran, I’m asking.”

“Keith?” Shiro said. “Coran and Allura - they were keeping an eye out, to make sure we knew where to go and what to expect.” Keith nodded silently. “They, uh, they said you had a broken ankle, a head injury, possibly broken ribs…”

“I don’t think they’re broken,” Keith said. “And, um, the head injury - it hurts, but it’s not too bad.”

“Was there anything else?”

“No. No, those were the main ones.”

Shiro nodded. “Coran, there are some cuts and bruises to be accounted for, but no other major injuries.” He took a deep breath and scanned his eyes over Keith’s form. “If it’s just the one leg injured, hopefully we can walk you back if you use me as a bit of a crutch.”

“The guards - ” Keith choked out. “They’ll be - they’re gonna be mad…”

“Hunk and Pidge are taking care of them,” Shiro said.

“Would hate to be one of those guards right about now,” Lance muttered. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen Pidge that angry. It was kinda terrifying. I mean, not as terrifying as, uh - ” He gestured vaguely around the room with a wave of his hand. “But still.”

“Know what you mean,” Shiro said. “Keith? Can I go ahead and help you up?”

“Um,” Keith said, glancing uncertainly down at his body, still naked aside from the duvet.

“Here,” Lance grunted, and he tossed Olren’s dressing gown up for Shiro to catch. “Keith’s is all ripped.”

Keith gulped at the prospect of having Olren’s clothes on him, and Shiro’s brows furrowed apologetically. “We can just wrap you up in the duvet,” Shiro said. “If that would be better.”

“No,” Keith said. “No, that would - it’s more likely to slip. This is fine.”

“Okay,” Shiro said, “If you’re sure.” He reached out to help Keith into a sitting position, and assisted as Keith maneuvered his stiff limbs through the sleeves. They fell far past his fingertips once they were fully on, but Keith didn’t mind it. If anything, it just made it easier to shrink into the fabric, to hide away.

Carefully Shiro hoisted Keith off of the bed, setting him onto the floor on his good leg and wrapping Keith’s opposite arm across his shoulder so he could lean against Shiro as he half-carried him toward the door. “Lance, come on,” Shiro said. “Stay out ahead of us, Keith’s in no condition to fight.”

“Yeah, I’m coming,” Lance said. He hurried toward the door, but when he was steps away, he stopped and turned around. “Actually, one more thing.”

“Lance?” said Shiro.

“I’ll be quick.” Lance jogged back over toward Olren’s unconscious body, jaw set in determination. Once he was standing over him, he lifted his leg, then slammed his foot down as hard as he could on the king’s groin, grinding his heel down for good measure. He gave a second kick as a courtesy before rejoining the others, leading the way out the door, nodding toward Keith as he went. “Doesn’t make things right,” Lance called over his shoulder. “But it’s a start.”

“Yeah,” Keith said quietly as he and Shiro followed behind him. “Yeah, it’s a start.”

[dreams-of-kalopsia]

Fictober Prompt 25

"I could really eat something."

Voltron fanfiction (Plance)

No warnings apply.

Read it on AO3.

____

Part 1 (Pidge): Timing

Timing is everything.

And Pidge can’t seem to get it right.

See, time makes sense to her; it’s universal, predictable, and measurable. When she plots spatial coordinates against a temporal point, she can pin down the exact place of anything in the universe.

Timing, though… It’s too relative, too susceptible to the influence of circumstances that can change at any time. It adds unpredictability and all kinds of confounding factors to the logical flow of space-time. That’s equivalent to inputting a value of 0.5 in Pidge’s mind, which operates in binaries of 0s and 1s; it leads to a parsing error that leaves her at a loss on what to do.

But timing is everything. It’s what got the current Team Voltron together and what makes them work so well as one unit. It’s what makes Shiro great at motivating and cheering people up. What makes Keith their best spy. What makes Hunk a master chef. What makes Lance a sharpshooter.

It’s what slapped Pidge in the face when she realized that she’d liked Lance for some time already—after overhearing him rant about his feelings for Allura.

Timing is everything, but she learns it too late, and she doesn’t know how to proceed with that fact.

“You have to talk to him,” Shiro advises as they get ready to sleep in Green’s bunk room. "At least for your peace of mind.”

Okay. But maybe in the future. Far, far, far ahead in space-time.

“It’s Lance.” Keith shrugs when he teleports with Kosmo to check up on her and Shiro. “Just walk up to him and tell him straight up.”

No thanks, recklessness incarnate.

“Love between two Paladins! Ah, how romantic!” cries Coran while they restock their supplies in some obscure planet. “Listen, Number Five. Eye contact is key. Stare at him and secrete your pheromones on full blast. Do you Earthlings have any mating calls? Any rituals?”

Holy quiznak, Coran. No.

“Look, the only way you’ll get to Lance is by using his own weapon against him,” insists Hunk on another one of their stopovers, expression serious and large hands clasping her shoulders in support. “Hit him with some really cheesy pick-up line. Something like, ‘Lance, you’re more than a snack; you’re a full meal.’”

Never.

Four pieces of advice—one reasonable and three quite ridiculous—stay tucked at the back of her mind throughout their long journey home. Shiro’s right; she should tell Lance. That, and find the best timing for it. They’re still fighting a war, after all.

Pidge doesn’t tell him after their encounter with Bob; she’s too pissed and done with that interdimensional being to think about mellower stuff.

She doesn’t tell him when they fight off that space orca-lamprey thing that messed with their minds, deciding to wait until all the issues brought up during their delirium are addressed.

She doesn’t tell him when they reunite with everyone on Earth because Sendak has the planet conquered. Besides, how can she tell him right before setting off to take out the Zaiforge cannons, when Allura comes up to talk to him first?

Now Earth is safe, and Pidge is working herself to the bone prepping the Atlas to leave Earth, and Lance is still in the dark.

Has she missed her chance again? Well, she knows he likes Allura. This must be her sign—

“You there, Pidge?” Lance’s voice rings out in the empty engine control room, startling her out of her thoughts.

“Over here,” she calls back. In all honesty, she’d rather not see him before she’s come up with an action—or inaction—plan. But she’s already replied, and his footsteps already echo in the spacious room. Nothing to do but wait for him to reach her at the center of the computer maze.

Funny how someone with limited patience such as Pidge is always waiting and biding her time when it comes to Lance.

“I knew it.”

She glances at him over the computer she’s reconfiguring. He has a brow raised and a hand on his waist in classic nagging Lance fashion. “Knew what?”

“You forgot the time, didn’t you?”

“Did I miss something?” Impossible; every scheduled briefing or meeting has its own alarm in her phone.

“You missed lunch, Pidge. And dinner.”

She blinks, fingers pausing over the keyboard. Her eyes find the time at the corner of the screen. “Oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh.’ Now let’s get you some food before you faint and we flip the Atlas over trying to find you.”

“That’s unnecessary,” she huffs but saves her work anyway. “Matt can just—”

“Of course it’s necessary,” he rebuts as they head out of the control room. “Never underestimate your ability to fall asleep in the weirdest places. Even Matt’s scanner won’t detect you.”

“Jerk.”

He laughs. The sound bounces off the walls of the room and her mind, nudging her friends’ words to the forefront of her thought processes.

“Talk to him.”

“Just tell him straight up.”

Pidge’s hands begin to sweat. Her heart picks up its pace. The words form in her mouth, but even if she contracts her lungs to pump them out, they just don’t want to be said.

She can’t tell him.

No, she can’t tell him. But she can drop a hint, right? Make him wonder, at least?

Timing is everything. To get a shot at someone who’s a master of it, she has to set the conditions up just right.

“Use his own weapon against him.”

Pidge sighs. She can’t believe she’s doing this.

“I could really eat something.” Curse you, Hunk.

“Sure could,” Lance quips, raising his hands to cradle his nape. “Anything you want in particular?”

She stops walking, and he follows suit, allowing her to look him in the eyes. “A snack,” she answers.

“A snack?” he repeats with a disapproving frown. “Pidge, you know snacks aren’t good for you.”

The window of opportunity opens. Pidge still can’t believe she’s resorting to this. She goes for the shot nonetheless.

A quick step back, followed by a crossing of arms.

“Pidge?”

A sweeping gaze of appraisal, scanning him from head to toe. An exaggeratedly slow bite at the corner of her lip sometime halfway.

A decisive nod—of approval or agreement, she’ll leave up to him.

Her eyes dart back to his. “A full meal, then.”

Lance’s eyes widen, jaw drops, arms fall limply to his sides. Judging by the way blood visibly rushes up to darken his entire face, she’ll say she’s hit her mark.

“Eye contact is key!”

With a lingering look as a finishing touch, she turns away and resumes walking towards the mess hall.

There. A hint. That’s all she’ll give until she’s ready to tell him. Or he starts dating Allura and she’s forced to give up. Or she gets over all of this. Whichever comes first.

Just this once, though, Pidge gladly subjects herself to uncertainty. Because as long as Lance doesn’t know for sure, she won’t be rejected for sure, either.

[lanceville]

bold of any of you to think i’ll ever let the fandom acknowledge what s8 has done. THIS is how the last season went:

the first episode starts with their discharge from the hospital. on his way out, shiro notices a familiar figure in one of the hospital rooms, sitting on the bed with his head that’s wrapped in a dozen bandages facing the window, face unseen. however, shiro thinks it’s just his imagination and tries not to dwell a lot on it and swallows his hope. he needs to stay strong for the universe, for “him”, just for a little longer.

lance asks allura out in the first episode, and she accepts. the klance sunset scene still happens the way it did. but when they go out on the actual date, she tells him that she doesn’t think a romantic relationship between them will work out, that she does care about him and cherish him, but only as a dear friend, and not in the same way he cares about her. she rejects him softly and gently, tells him that he’s a great guy and that many would be lucky to have him. it’s just that she can’t see her and his future together playing out well, and that maintaining their relationship as friends would be much better for both of them. she also tells him that he deserves someone who’d love him and cherish him the same way he would for them, a person with a heart full of kindness and love like lance’s. tells him that that person already exists, and that lance knows who they are without her specifying anybody. she thanks him for always being a good friend to her, and hugs him tight. lance accepts her rejection with no hard feelings, yes, he’s a little heartbroken, be he somehow feels relieved. relieved that he has realized that he doesn’t need to be in a romantic relationship to have others care about him and value him strongly and love him for who he is. relieved to still have allura as a friend, and relieved that she was honest with him, and that he didn’t force her to do anything she didn’t want to. he just wants her to be happy. they spend the rest of the night hanging out, and lance is content.

the next day when keith sees lance, he asks him how the date went. lance smiles bittersweetly and tells him that it didn’t work out. he still feels heartbroken a little, but not at all as bad as he thought he’d be, and will feel better in a couple days. keith’s eyes become gentle, and he puts his hand on lance’s shoulder to show his support and smiles softly. he tells him that he will find happiness one day, and that he will be there for him all the way if he needs any support. that he is there for him now in case he needs some comfort. lance smiles and tells him that some sort of distraction right now would be great, so they go racing down the mountain on hoverbikes. lance feels much better afterwards.

lance still provides allura with emotional support like always, and she’s so grateful for that.

shiro gets a new prosthetic arm (this time a normal one) and it glows like the old one, though it also leaves a trail of sparkles when he swings it. romelle suggested that, and, well, shiro kinda likes it if he’s honest with himself. it also has the sky symbol of the black lion on the bicep which keith insisted on adding, since shiro will always be the rightful leader of voltron and the best of them. lance seconds that and tells shiro that he’ll always be his role model and his hero. and yes, shiro is still part of team voltron and goes on missions with them, along with krolia. he also dyes his hair black. when he looks himself in the mirror and sighs “god this looks so much better on me” allura glares at him and asks him if he has a problem with white hair. she glares daggers at him for the next five solid minutes he fumbles to find words. keith saves his ass and tells her that black happens to be shiro’s favorite hair color and that he has nothing against her white hair. allura doesn’t look convinced though.

the small, intimate, private talk between lance and keith still happens, though lance is worried about what lies ahead in the final battle, and if all of them will make it out, and even when he feels that he’s grown a lot since their journey started, he worries that he still might not have what it takes to ensure everybody’s safety. keith reassures him that it will all work out fine because they have lance on the team, and tells him that they’ll always have each other’s back and protect each other, and that he’d never let anything harm anyone on the team. lance laughs softly and points out how keith has changed a lot since the beginning too, and they spend time reminiscing about the past and how far they’ve come. they clasp hands, but it lingers longer than necessary as neither of them attempts to let go that quickly.

there has been also another thing on lance’s mind... but he doesn’t tell keith that because it revolves around keith himself.

before they all go to space again, the team takes allura, romelle, and coran to an amusement park. the alteans have the time of their lives. allura breaks the high striker strongman game. she looks so proud of herself, and everybody’s impressed, but not really surprised.

i have no idea what the plot was or who they fought or what happened outside of character interactions this season because i didn’t watch the past two, but during one of their battles, lance uses his altean broadsword. he conjures it to strike someone aiming for shiro’s back, and keith stops mid-battle to just. gape. he would’ve had his ass handed to him again if lance didn’t turn his bayard into a riffle again and accurately shot whoever was aiming for keith. lance smirks and teases him: “cat got your tongue, keith? never seen a handsome sharpshooter who’s also a swordsman in your life?” and he winks. keith’s flustered for just a second before he smiles softly and tells him while they resume fighting: “yes, lance. you’re the first handsome sharpshooter swordsman i’ve seen.” allura is heard giggling somewhere from behind them while chopping off some dicks with her battle ax bayard and krolia shouts “good one, son” while judo-flipping some guy and breaking his neck. lance just stays silent, and when keith looks over to him, his face is hidden, and lance just mumbles “let’s just get this over with.” keith and lance fight with their swords back to back.

lance unlocks his own voltron bayard upgrade, which is a cannon on each of voltron’s shoulders - one shoots magma, while the other shoots a freeze ray.

when they go to haggar/honerva to stop her from whatever she’s doing, they meet lotor trying to do the same. everyone is shocked to see him back, especially allura. hunk places his hand on her shoulder. lotor tries to ignore them, to not look at them, and focuses on defeating haggar. they’re fighting somewhere near a neutron star like the one keith and krolia orbited on a space whale. the imbalance in the threads of space-time lets them see some of the horrid memories lotor went through because of zarkon. and since haggar is trying to open a portal to jump to other realities or whatever, they got to see how other realities are like, where zarkon and his family are not zombies thirsting after quintessence - where they’re a normal family. this, however, is hard for lotor to see. he’s about to charge at haggar in anger and frustration when allura grabs his arm and tells him not to, that he wouldn’t be able to defeat her alone. long story short, allura finds a way to defeat her, though a sacrifice on her part must be made, since she holds all the magic.

so, in order for allura to let haggar and lotor die in peace and return to the realm of the dead, she sacrifices her altean alchemy knowledge and her marks of the chosen. she won’t be able to use magic anymore, and all her knowledge of altean alchemy would disappear, along with the lions’ connection to her life force. so she gives that up, and while doing that, she rises to the sky and shines like an actual angel, light that appears both plain white and vividly colorful emitting from every inch of her. the lions are heard roaring, letting go of their connection to her. the light then starts to morph into the shape of a white lion above her. her eyes glow a bright, beautiful turquoise, and when she looks down at haggar and lotor, the white lion charges at them with its fangs fully exposed, but instead of attacking them, it passes right through them, and they’re flooded with light surrounding them from all sides. before their souls disappear into sparkles, lotor and allura lock eyes, and they smile gently, and both honerva and lotor thank her. before the light fades out, alfor appears semi-transparently, and tells allura that he’s the proudest father in the universe. with that, the universe is saved.

they go back to earth to rest for a couple days after all of this. with her magic gone, the pink in allura’s eyes disappears, and they become just turquoise (that’s like, to physically showcase that she lost her magic). romelle, hunk, and lance assure her that she’s still as beautiful as ever. since the connection between the lions and her life force is gone, so is her bond to blue. she goes to her to tell her how grateful and honored she feels that she’s got to pilot her, and that she’ll never forget that experience. blue keeps purring softly at allura. lance is with her, keeping a respectful distance for some private chat between her and blue, glad to see that both of his beautiful girls are safe, happy, and doing fine.

the night they return from space, after he and allura return back from where blue was and have dinner with everyone, with lance sitting next to keith like always, lance goes to see shiro before bed. lance tells shiro that he’s always liked keith, and that he wants to start something with him, but he’s afraid that it’s still too soon and that he’s rushing things, especially that he got over allura just awhile ago and should probably wait a while longer before he starts confessing romantic feelings to anybody again. he knows that keith cares about him, because it shows, but he’s... afraid that it might not be in the same way he does. shiro breathes out a soft laugh and places a hand on lance’s shoulder, saying: “keith reciprocating your feelings is the last thing you should worry about. you’ll be surprised when you find out.” lance just stares at him confusedly, and shiro continues “if you need time to put your feelings into words, then take however long you need. keith will be waiting for you. he’s always been.”

lance spends the next two days staying close to keith, hanging out with him and stuff, contemplating whether things between them might work out after all or not. they clean their lions together, prank slav and coran, race on their hoverbikes, teach allura and romelle about pokemon and how to play it (romelle especially is hooked), make sure shiro is getting enough rest and is relaxing and not falling asleep in the gym, play with lance’s niece and nephew, and watch the sunset together (lance still doesn’t know how this part is considered “hanging out” but he’s not complaining). lance never misses the soft smiles and tender glances keith keeps sending his way, so he makes up his mind,

on the third day, lance tells keith that he wants to talk to him about something. they climb the black lion and sit on his head (this has become their usual private spot), and lance begins talking...

“i’ve always wanted to explore the skies and to become a pilot. i loved looking at the stars and dreaming of discovering the secrets they hold as much as i loved the ocean and- and you know how much i love swimming, haha.... anyway, when i got into the garrison, i was extremely joyful and excited. there, i met you.... the little bratty lonewolf mullethead who never talked to anyone and kept breaking the rules and- yes it’s true, keith, don’t deny that, you were such a brat when you were a kid i swear- but- but as much as you annoyed me and got on my nerves, i loved seeing you fly. you made it seem so natural, so smooth, so easy, so liberating. you were... really amazing... and you were my goal. you made me want to become better and better, and do my best to be as good as you are. i admired you so, so much. i won’t deny that i didn’t have any feelings of jealousy though.... haha..... i was...... pretty jealous of you too.... like you were close to shiro, my number one hero, and you’re a natural prodigy who barely put in any effort in training and yet bested everyone, even the instructors, and you were really popular, man, like even i- *awkward cough* anyway, i tried my best to reach you on the top, because if i reached the place where the best pilot is and then surpassed him, i’d be considered the best, and then i’d be recognized and acknowledged, and gain what i’ve always wanted before: attention and glory. but you never noticed me, and that really saddened me and got on my nerves.... made it seem like you were a stuck up belittling me and thinking that i’m not worthy of your attention, so.... so i created this rivalry with you... deluded myself that i hated you.... tried to grab your attention in the pettiest ways because you would never look at me otherwise........ but when we got trapped together in space and were forced into a team together, i learned more about you, and even though you look like an intimidating mulletted emo from the outside, especially with that intense frown of yours that never left your face and that made me think you’re always plotting someone’s murder, you’re just a stupid dork with a soft heart from the inside... and..... and i grew to like your soft mullet, your murderous frown, your rough voice that can grow exceptionally soft at times, your eyes that harbor numerous galaxies inside of them, your impulsive tendencies - even though they make you seem suicidal sometimes which is not acceptable at all, you idiot - your cute smile, your fighting style....... i grew to like you, keith. deep down i knew it, but for some reason, i didn’t wanna admit it. allura... allura was my ideal. she’s a perfect goddess who everybody is captivated by, and it was only natural that young, stupid, flirtatious, immature me would try to score with her..... but i grew to genuinely care about her too.... though it was... more platonic than romantic at first. i started caring about her as a friend more than anything... and i was about to give up on liking her romantically in favor of being friends especially that... that you and i grew closer after shiro disappeared, and i thought- i thought there might be... some chance for me to accept my feelings for you and to voice them when i’m ready, but you left for the blades, and any hope i had for anything between us shattered... heh... i know it might sound silly coming from me of all people at that point of time but - but i took your abandonment of the team pretty hard.... you have become the closest person to me, and i used to spend most of my time with you... so when you left... i felt so lonely, especially that the rest of the team have each other and know their place... i used to be your right hand man after shiro disappeared, and you always listened to what i had to say... gave me the acknowledgement and validation that i was in need of.... treated me as an equal.... and listened to my worries and reassured me... so when you were gone, i lost all of that... clone shiro didn’t need a right hand man in the first place, and nobody seemed to need me around.... so i started doubting my place on the team and my self-worth again, and i thought maybe... maybe if i found love, i wouldn’t feel like that anymore... so i turned to the only other person i’ve had feelings for - allura, and i... tried projecting my feelings for you onto her, but somewhere along the line, those feelings became genuine, and i truly liked her, and i thought, maybe this would work out after all, and when i came to you, you encouraged me too, which... which made me think that maybe it’s time to move on from you now but.... when allura rejected me, i was heartbroken, but not as much as i thought i would be? i felt some kind of... relief. i felt complete. that i’m my own person, and that i should be proud of that... and i finally realized that i don’t need a romantic relationship to feel validated... allura still cares about me and i care about her too, and that didn’t change and won’t change, whether we were in a relationship or not. romance isn’t the solution to everything, and i shouldn’t pursue it thinking that it is. i’m really glad that it ended like that between allura and i. this way we can comfortably be friends without any awkwardness or discomfort or mixed feelings, and it’s not just allura who accepts me for who i am. i have a lot of people who i cherish and cherish me back - shiro, romelle, coran, hunk, pidge, my family, and most importantly.... you, keith. you were actually the one who provided me with the most emotional support that i badly needed to realize my worth and place in the universe. you are always there for me when i need to talk and you always comfort me.... i feel most comfortable around you. talking to you is easy and comes naturally to me, and you always make me feel better when i’m feeling down. this is why- this is why i want to always be with you, keith. you make me feel happy, and i want to make you feel happy too. i really, really, really like you, kei- whoa! dude?!?!!?”

when lance turns his head away from the sunset to look at keith after the longass heartfelt speach he gave, he sees that keith’s face is smudged with tears... no wonder keith stayed silent without a word for this long because the boy looks barely able to breathe, let alone speak. lance is taken aback, and tries to ask keith if he maybe said too much or something wrong when keith jumps on him and stuffs his face into lance’s neck, holding him really tight. lance relaxes into the hug and holds keith just as tight. keith mumbles through the tears: “i really like you too, lance. i always have”

the next day, the go on a date to the beach, except that everyone else tags along, and they only spend like 30 minutes of walking alone together on the beach shore, fingers intertwined and swinging between them, before they hear everybody shouting and race back to see that coran thought that the watermelon was a beach ball and threw it to allura and romelle who wanted to play beach volleyball, and when allura tried to spike it, the watermelon burst open and fell all over her face. they thought hunk was crying because he was scared allura got hurt, but it turns out he’s just tearing up with his face in the sand because he’s laughing too hard. when he looks up with his face covered in sand and tears, he says: “me? scared that allura would get hurt by a watermelon???? this is the funniest thing i’ve ever heard since we knew zarkon had a son!” and then he dissolves into half-laughing-half-crying in the sand like a dying ostrich.

the garrison along with the rest of the planets in the galaxy prepare a prodigious festival to celebrate the defenders of the universe’s victory. when shiro is about to pass a corner to go to his room to get ready, he bumps into a tall man with slightly wavy chestnut hair, bangs falling to his eyes, one of which is lightless, rectangular glasses framing them, right side of his face paler than the rest of his tan skin due to a scar extending from his neck to the corner of his eyebrow. he forgets how to breathe, and so does the other person. me manages to let out a chocked “adam...?” before his vision goes blurry and his eyes well with tears. they hug, forgetting everything else for now that they’ve finally found each other after so long, and go to talk in shiro’s room. when shiro tells adam that he thought he was dead, still dumbfounded that he’s alive, adam deadpans: “talk for yourself. if you think i’ll ever forgive you for making me believe you were dead for good and have me grieve over your stupid soul for years without even thinking of sending me a text message once to reassure me you’re not and then coming back with the title of “defender of the universe” after you’ve adopted like five kids besides keith and transferring your soul into body that was your clone’s is just straight out unacceptable, takashi, hope you’re ready to pay for all of the compensations.” and shiro is horrified and feels really guilty for not taking adam’s feelings into consideration, so he tries to make it up to adam and take responsibility: “i’m ready to pay all the compensations and more if it means that you won’t be mad at me anymore.” adam looks at him and says: “well, the first thing you have to pay for is a house. if you want to move in together again then at least buy a better house this time than that ugly apartment, takashi.” shiro looks up at adam and stares. adam’s face softens and he continues: “i was mad at you because i loved you, and i’m still mad at you because i still love you. you make me worry too much about you, takashi. if you promise you’d take better care of yourself, i’d consider participating in paying the expenses of the wedding we planned before instead of throwing all of them in your face. so, what do you say?” shiro is still staring at him. he snaps out of it a few moments later, and his eyes go tender and teary: “trust me, i have experienced enough things to last me ten lifetimes. i want to do nothing for the rest of my life besides drinking orange juice on the beach sand with you.”

“are you really solo-planning out the rest of my life for me, takashi?”

“you still have the option to accept it or reject it”

“you idiot. you know that i’ll accept it”

shiro and adam have their wedding that they’ve always deserved and it’s a huuuge one! when adam throws the flowers, they fall into lance’s hands. a second later, another bouquet falls into keith’s, and when they both look up, they see shiro and adam winking at them, and adam says: “takashi and i both bought flower bouquets for each other. convenient, huh? now you both get to have one to gift the other after the wedding.”

as for their future, they rebuild altea all together as their final mission as voltron. allura becomes the queen of the new altea, with coran and romelle as her advisors (romelle is only an advisor in title though, she mostly spends her time gossiping with allura). hunk is a galactic diplomat, and he visits shay constantly, and sometimes works alongside allura, or for her. he also still works in the garrison as engineer, but only when he’s needed. pidge builds a robot factory, and works as a technician and inventor in the garrison. despite what shiro said, adam and shiro still work in the garrison as instructors, but only part-time. they love flying way too much to abandon their jobs, honestly. keith stays in the blade with his mom along with lotor’s generals, and the blade of marmora becomes a humanitarian and direct relief organization. lance becomes one of the best instructors of the garrison and a renowned pilot. he’s sometimes asked to do other, very unrelated jobs, like modeling for a fashion magazine, or helping out hunk with his diplomatic work, or teaching kids how to milk cows. he’s also become part of the blade of marmora with keith and helps him out occasionally. keith and lance take vacations from time to time and go to different planets on dates.

they’re all happy and safe. and that’s a constant in every reality.

[littlewhitetie]

“Keith.” Allura’s voice is hushed over the comms. “He’s getting worse.” 

In the background, harsh, strained coughing reverberates through the chambers of the Blue Lion. Keith’s knuckles bleach white as he tightens his grip on Black’s controls. 

“He doesn’t want you to know,” Allura says, “but I thought you should.” 

Why doesn’t he want me to know? he wants to ask. Why doesn’t he want to travel with me anymore? 

It’s not because of the Black Lion. Keith could read it in the way Shiro wouldn’t look at him directly, in the space he kept between them. Shiro didn’t want to be here because of him, and it hurt. 

He wants to ask why, ask what he did wrong, but he can’t. He literally, physically, can’t. 

“How are you doing?” Allura asks. “Are you alright?” 

 He nods, though he doesn’t know what else she expects him to do when he can’t speak. 

“I’ll try again when we reach our next stop,” she vows. “But that druid’s curse is more complex than anything I’ve seen before.” 

A thud from behind startles her. 

“I’ll go check on him,” she says with false calm, then leaps out of her seat.

She doesn’t disconnect the comm line, nor does she shut the door to the cockpit behind her, and soon, Keith can hear faint voices in the background. 

“Shiro, are you— what happened? What is this?” 

Shiro’s response is too quiet for Keith to make out the words.

“Please don’t lie to me,” she says.

Shiro says something, cut off by hacking coughs. Allura murmurs something in a soothing tone. He says something else, and she replies, “…Alright. I won’t.”

Keith can’t parse most of Shiro’s words, but he can pick out, “—Keith?”

“I won’t tell him. I promise.” 

Keith clenches his jaw. What won’t you tell me? 

“Go lie down. I’ll clean up,” she says. “…It’s fine, Shiro, honestly. I’ll handle it. Just rest.”

It’s several doboshes before Allura returns to the cockpit. Her face is pale, drawn. Quietly, she asks, “Did you hear all of that?”

Keith shakes his head. 

“Well… good,” she says, though her averted gaze and pursed lips say otherwise. She’s easy to read when she wants to be, and she’s telling him loud and clear there’s something he’s missing. 

He tilts his head in question, but she shakes her head. 

“I’m sorry.” 

With a growl, he cuts the transmission with more force than necessary. He tucks his knees into his chest and squeezes his eyes shut.

It’s been three weeks since he faced off against that druid—three long, frustrating weeks—and the aphasia hasn’t shown any improvement. 

He never realized just how much he relied on words until now. Beyond the obvious difficulties that arise in leading the team, without being able to partake in conversations with the other paladins or even type commands, he has nothing to occupy his time as they travel back to Earth. He doesn’t have anyone to keep him company: his mom isn’t with them anymore, his wolf has decided he likes riding with Pidge, and Shiro left him for Allura. 

There’s nothing for Keith to do but stew in his own aggravation and worry. Worry about the state of the universe, worry about not being able to form Voltron, worry about Shiro. Shiro’s sick, and now it’s confirmed he’s hiding something. Something Allura won’t tell Keith about. 

Keith lets himself be angry. Because being angry is better than being afraid.

A ping from his personal device signals an incoming message: a photo from Allura. No, not Allura—there’s a green paw obscuring part of the photo, and the blue light falls around shadows with ears. The photo is from the mice.

Past the magnified paw is a waste bin, set against the blue of the Lion’s floor. It contains crumpled crimson flower petals, streaked with blood. 

Keith frowns. They haven’t set foot on a planet in weeks, and that planet didn’t even have flowering vegetation. The petals in the bin are fresh. Where did they come from? And why is there blood on them? 

He can’t figure it out, so he opens the comm line to Hunk, Pidge, and Lance, and sends them the photo—maybe one of them can help figure out what this is.

“What the heck?” Lance asks. 

Hunk makes a disgusted face. “Eugh, is that—is that blood?” 

Pidge goes pale, a hand pressed to her mouth. She knows something. “This—this photo was taken inside the Blue Lion,” she utters. “…Shiro’s in the Blue Lion.”

Keith nods. 

“Shiro must have Hanahaki,” she says, quietly. 

“What’s that?” Lance asks.

“It’s a disease,” she says, “caused by a parasite that causes flowers to grow in a person’s lungs.”

“Oh, ew,” Hunk says.

“It’s bad,” she says. “No one knows exactly how it works from a pathophysiological point of view, but the disease only manifests in people who’re experiencing strong feelings of unrequited romantic love. The parasite kind of... feeds off of those feelings.”

“That sounds like a fairytale,” Lance says.

“Maybe, yeah, but it’s legit. My mom worked with some researchers studying it. It’s real, and it’s…” Pidge’s eyes flit away from the screen. “…It’s fatal.”

Cold nausea floods Keith’s core. She’s wrong. She has to be wrong. 

“And you think Shiro has this?” Hunk asks.

“It looks like it,” Pidge says. “The hallmark symptom of Hanahaki is coughing up flowers. Shiro’s had that really bad cough for a while, and there isn’t anywhere else those petals could’ve come from.” 

Hunk swallows. “So Shiro’s in love and it’s… killing him?” 

“There has to be a cure,” Lance says, desperately. 

Pidge’s eyes glisten. “The only people who’ve ever gotten better are the ones whose feelings ended up being returned. Otherwise…” 

A grave silence falls over them. 

How did he get it? Keith wants to ask. Who is he sick for? How could they possibly not love him back? 

But nobody asks any further questions. They just sit there, not saying a word. 

Keith drives his fingernails into the meat of his palms and wills his lip not to tremble. They’ll figure something out. They will. They have to. He digs his nails deeper, deeper.

Sensing his distress, his wolf poofs into the Black Lion’s cockpit next to him. At the base of the seat, he nuzzles Keith’s leg, offering comfort. Keith drops to his knees and clings to him with his eyes squeezed shut, burying his face in long, thick fur. 

They fly in sombre silence until they reach the next star system, setting down on an ochre swirled planet with a dry, dusty surface. Occasional gusts of wind blow swirls of particles in the air. Readings show it’s safe to breathe here, though oxygen levels are on the low side. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for Shiro to go outside here,” Pidge says. 

“Agreed,” Allura says. “He’s resting anyway. Keith, I’ll look at that curse again. Why don’t you come over to the Blue Lion?”

Immediately, the wolf teleports him into the Blue Lion’s cockpit. Allura jumps in her seat at the sudden intrusion, but relaxes quickly. 

“Okay. The rest of us’ll be back in a few vargas,” Lance says. “Take a look around, stretch our legs; give the Lions a little time to recharge.”

The wolf vanishes to join them, leaving Allura and Keith alone in the cockpit. She surveys him, taking in his pinched brow and drawn shoulders. “Keith, what’s wrong?” 

Keith pulls out his personal device and shows her the picture sent by the mice.

“Do you know what this is?” she asks in a hushed voice.

Keith nods.

“It’s bad, then,” she surmises.

Tears gather at the corners of his eyes. He can’t look at her directly. He taps his throat and slides down to the floor of the cockpit. 

“Of course,” Allura says, kneeling over him. “Let’s get started.” 

Keith closes his eyes. Her magic is warm and cool at the same time. Carefully, it pulls, explores. It’s strange, but not unpleasant, and he finds himself drifting off.

Eventually, the magic tapers out. “Alright,” she says.

He snaps his eyes open and sits up, facing her. She’s drained.

“That’s as much as I can do for now,” she says. “I’m starting to get a clearer picture of what’s been done to you, but it will take some time for me to figure out how to undo it. I don’t know how long. I’m sorry.” 

He places a hand on her arm, thanking her. 

“Go ahead and catch up with the others,” she says. “I can stay here with Shiro.”

Keith shakes his head, pointing at himself, and then the floor. I’ll stay. He gestures at her and nods toward the Lion’s mouth: you go ahead. 

She presses her lips together. “If you’re sure. If you need anything, call, and we’ll come right back.” 

He nods and heads down to where Shiro is resting. He picks up the pace when he hears coughing. It’s persistent and doesn’t let up until a door slams shut, cutting it off abruptly. 

When Keith reaches the belly of the Lion, Shiro isn’t in bed. The lights of the tiny bathroom are on, the door sealed shut. Keith knocks on the door. No answer. He knocks again, more desperate this time. 

“I’m—I’m okay,” Shiro gasps, voice barely audible through thick steel. “I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.”

No, Keith wants to say. I will always worry about you. But all he can do is wait until the toilet flushes, the water runs, and the door opens from the inside.

Shiro staggers out as he wipes the back of his mouth with his wrist. Keith moves to steady him, but Shiro recoils. “Keith? What are you doing here?” 

Keith deflates. Don’t look too excited to see me, now. He points to the cot. Shiro makes his way there on his own, refusing Keith’s proffered arm. 

As soon as Shiro drops to a seat, Keith takes out his personal device and shoves it in his face, showing him the picture the mice took of the petals. 

Shiro blanches, then grits his teeth. “So much for keeping a secret.”

Keith takes a seat beside him. He half expects Shiro to move away when he scoots closer, but he stays where he is.

“I’m guessing you know what this is, then,” Shiro says. “What it means.”

Keith nods. 

“So you understand why I stopped travelling with you.” 

Keith shakes his head.

“I’m sorry for leaving,” Shiro says. “But I didn’t want you to find out it was Hanahaki. I didn’t want you to blame yourself.” 

Keith points at himself, brows furrowed in confusion. 

“It’s not your fault. You can’t help the way you feel, or don’t feel, about me.”

Keith points to the photo, then to himself again, disbelief plain on his face. 

Shiro gives him a small smile. “Yeah. You. Of course it’s you. I know you only see me as a brother, but I still…” 

Keith shakes his head and surges forward to kiss him.

Instead of meeting his lips, Shiro pushes him away. “Keith, what are you doing?” 

Keith levels him with a flat stare—what does it look like I’m doing?—and leans in again, slower this time. 

“Keith, no,” Shiro says, holding him back with a firm grip. “I appreciate you trying, I really do, but that’s not how this disease works. You can’t just fake it.” 

Keith shakes his head. He pats his chest. It’s real. There’s nothing fake about it.

“You can’t just force yourself to fall in love with someone,” Shiro says. “Even if you wanted to.” 

Keith shakes his head more vigorously and grabs Shiro’s hand with both of his, placing it over his heart.

“I know,” Shiro says. “What we have… It should be enough, shouldn’t it.”

Keith shakes his head again, desperate. That’s not what I meant. He thumps Shiro’s hand against his chest. Listen to me.

“I’m sorry, Keith,” Shiro whispers. 

No. No, don’t be sorry. Tears gather in his lashes. He squeezes Shiro’s hand too tightly, beating it against his chest again. Listen to me!

“Hey,” Shiro says, bringing his forehead to rest against Keith’s. “It’s alright. You’ll be okay.” 

A sob escapes Keith’s throat as the tears spill over and down his cheeks. No, no, no. He can’t— he can’t—

Shiro starts coughing again. He pushes Keith away and reaches for the bucket. As he coughs and coughs, clusters of red petals tumble from his lips and into the bin.

It takes far too long for the fit to subside. Finally, Shiro sets the bin down and slumps over, heaving for breath. 

Keith keeps him from falling over and carefully guides him to lie on his side. 

“Sorry,” he rasps, eyelids fluttering. “...Think I need to rest more, but we can talk later, okay?”

Keith gives a light snort.

“Right,” Shiro says, his lips just barely quirking up. “You know what I mean.” 

But you don’t know what I mean.

Cautiously, Keith reaches forward to touch Shiro’s face. He cups his cheek and smooths the pad of his thumb over Shiro’s cheekbone. The gesture is tender, intimate. 

Shiro’s lips part, eyes going wide for a moment. “Keith?” he whispers. 

Keith’s gaze is soft as he strokes Shiro’s cheek. He stays like that until Shiro’s eyes fall shut. 

After he’s asleep, Keith lies down and tucks himself against Shiro’s body. He presses his ear to Shiro’s chest. His breath rattles, too shallow. 

There’s not enough room in Shiro’s lungs, and it’s all Keith’s fault. 

You’re my brother. He should have explained better what he’d meant: you’re the family I’ve always wanted. You’re everything to me. But he’d stayed quiet, left room for misinterpretation, and now, Shiro’s suffering for it. Dying because of it.  

Tears spill sideways down his face. He buries his face in Shiro’s shirt and cries until he falls asleep.

...

Keith’s training has made him a light sleeper, and he wakes as soon as Shiro stirs. 

“Keith? You’re… still here?”

Keith nods. Of course I am. His fingertips skim over the curve of Shiro’s cheekbone before skittering to his jaw, angling his face to look into his eyes and holding his gaze.

Shiro starts coughing. Keith helps him to sit up and holds the waste bin for him. He winces as too many red petals work their way past his lips. There’s no room in his lungs for air at all.

He lets Shiro slump against him when he’s done, staying like that until he catches his breath again. When Shiro pulls back, Keith picks up Shiro’s helmet and tips his head toward the Lion’s mouth.

“You want us to go outside?”

Keith nods.

“Alright.”

Keith places Shiro’s helmet over his head and helps him to his feet, guiding him toward the exit. 

“Where are we going?” Shiro asks once they step out onto the ramp.

Keith points to the Black Lion, a short distance away.

“Oh,” Shiro says. “…Okay.”

He gestures at the Black Lion, taps his wrist, then back toward the Blue Lion. Just for a bit. Then you can come back, if you want to. 

Shiro tilts his head, not understanding what Keith is trying to say. Keith tries again, but Shiro just says, “I’ll follow your lead.” 

Keith walks with Shiro toward the other Lion. Grit kicks up from the planet’s surface and stings Keith’s exposed, helmet-less face, irritating his throat when he inhales too deeply.

Shiro is winded after a few paces and falters moments after they set foot on solid ground. Keith catches him, steadying him as he coughs up petals that get trapped behind his visor.

Keith considers turning back, but this important. Worth the risk. He slips Shiro’s arm over his shoulder and bears his weight as they make their way to the other Lion, one step at a time.

When they finally reach the Lion’s jaws and enter the cockpit, Shiro all but collapses, too drained for grace. Keith brings them to sit on the floor and takes Shiro’s helmet off. He brushes the petals that escape from Shiro’s shoulders and chest.

After Shiro’s breathing has evened out a bit, Keith gestures around them, then brings his fingertips to his temples and closes his eyes. He peeks his eyes open to see if Shiro caught that.

Shiro’s brow furrows as he tries to decipher what Keith is trying to say. “You want me… to focus. On the Lion.”

Keith rolls his wrist, gesturing for him to keep going. He waves at everything around them, then points to his eyes, closing them again with intention. 

“You want me to see through the Lion’s eyes,” Shiro guesses. “Go into its consciousness.”

Keith nods.

“I can’t do that anymore,” Shiro says. “My connection was severed.”

Keith grabs his hand and squeezes tight, nodding resolutely.

“But I—I can try. For you.” 

Keith smiles and laces their fingers together.

Desperately, he wills the Black Lion to connect with Shiro. Please. Please. He needs this. They need this.

It takes a few tries—reaching, grasping, pleading—but eventually, Shiro’s presence flickers into the shared mind space. It’s faint, but it’s there. He can do this.

Keith can’t remember how to use words, but he can project his emotions. So he tears his heart open and lets his feelings bleed through the bond.

He focuses on the way, even after all these years, his heart leaps into his throat when he looks at Shiro; the way it leaps higher still when Shiro’s lips pull up into a smile. How his breath catches when his name rolls off Shiro’s tongue. How his nervous system is set ablaze with each glancing touch. 

He digs deeper and draws out the raw, ugly emotions he’d tried to hide and hide from. The jealousy he’d felt back at the Garrison whenever he saw Shiro with Adam, the way he’d cried himself to sleep when he’d found out they were engaged. The horrible spark of joy that had sprung forth when Adam broke it off. The shameful pleasure he’d indulged in so many nights when he’d close his eyes and think of Shiro. The constant, painful longing that never went away, only grew stronger with time. He wants, still wants. Wants to kiss, touch, taste, fuck. Wants all of him, in every way. 

He pours everything he has into the Lion’s space and lets loose the vast, all encompassing love that consumes and overwhelms him. It’s more than I would die for you; it’s I will die if I’m without you. It’s terrifying. It’s immeasurable. Shiro is his world, his universe, everything. 

He strips himself bare, bleeds himself dry. When there’s nothing left to reveal, Keith opens his eyes.

Tears trickle down Shiro’s cheeks. “Keith,” he whispers, releasing a shuddering breath. “I… You…”

Keith nods. He brings both hands to cradle Shiro’s face, runs his thumb over Shiro’s lower lip. Shiro’s white lashes flutter closed.

Keith leans forward. His lips and teeth and tongue won’t give him syllables, but they can give him this. 

When their mouths meet, the kiss is slow, insistent, tender, desperate. It's everything Keith has, everything he can give. It’s all the I love you’s that went unsaid; all the things he wants to say. 

The tones that greet Keith’s tongue are sickly sweet with an iron finish, but he doesn’t shy away. He kisses him and kisses him until Shiro pulls back, gasping for breath.

Shiro starts coughing. Panic ices over Keith’s veins. It—it wasn’t enough? But—

Crimson petals and blood spatter the floor of the Black Lion. More and more come, progressing from petals to entire flowers. Shiro coughs and coughs, his lips turning blue from lack of oxygen.

Keith’s heart lodges in his throat. There’s nothing he can do but watch flower after flower tumble past Shiro’s lips. Flowers, and then— something else, thin and branched and coated in crimson. 

Roots. 

They’re horrifying. But they’re out. 

Shiro collapses in Keith’s arms. He’s unconscious, but he’s breathing better, deeper. The rise and fall of his chest is steady; there’s no rattle. 

Keith rests Shiro’s head in his lap, running his fingers through his hair. He doesn’t move until Shiro wakes.

Eventually, Shiro makes a quiet noise in his throat. “Keith.” His voice is shot, a ragged whisper. 

Keith places a hand over his chest and tilts his head, a question in his eyes.

The corners of Shiro’s lips curve up as he tangles his fingers in Keith’s hair and drags him down for a chaste kiss. “Yeah,” Shiro says, smiling against his lips. “I’m alright. I’m gonna be fine.” 

…

The following weeks are quiet in the Black Lion, but the silence is bearable with Shiro at Keith’s side.

And eventually, Allura begins to unravel the druid’s curse.

Keith’s library of words is a mess, the contents of his lexicon all mixed up and scattered, and putting them back together is a dizzying struggle. His hand falters over letters; his tongue stutters over syllables. There are too many consonants, too many shapes to each vowel, too many ways they fit together. 

But one string of letters comes easy, soft and smooth. An anchor in his sea of word fragments, safe and familiar. His mouth moves just right as he breathes, “Shiro.”