#kolivan (vld)

[icoldcappuccino]

Llegué a la conclusión de que amo a Antok y a Kolivan y que necesito verlos siendo lindos y familiares, los adoro y la gente de Ao3 me ha alimentando con un montón de headcanons de ellos, y como no pienso matarme con el canon, acá La espada de Marmora vive (Ulaz, Thace, Antok, Regris) y Antok y Kolivan tienen un hijo que se llama Mako

Antok es un gigante que piensa que su hijo es muy pequeño, Kolivan intenta que entienda que Antok solo es muy grande en comparación

Lo tuvieron casi al final de la guerra así que nació sano y en época de paz(??)

Keith es un tío orgulloso y Lance conciente al niño cuando lo ve, y deja que juegue con sus propios hijos cuando no están ocupados en el espacio

(tengo más de estos, pero este es mi fav, eventualmente dibujare a Allura y a Romelle lo prometo)

[bluestarjay]

Look,,, I know, I KNOW that it's his hair,,, but imagine how FUNNY it would be if Krolia brought a cowrie shell necklace for Kolivan back from earth,,,

Krolia: Kolivan! I brought you something back from my stay on earth. I think it'll suit you well.

And it's a fucking cowrie shell necklace. The shit that vsco girls wore.

[reveseke]

Stupid mutt

— Voltron; Kolivan x male!werewolf!reader

Warnings; none, fluff & a small confession. Small mention of injury and written injury tending. Uh, indirect confession from reader lol?

A/N; I have no idea what I'm doing, but this was requested by @xweirdo101x , I'm sorry this took me so long to make lol.

R had always felt a sense of admiration towards his leader, Kolivan. It wasn't really secret as much as he wanted it to be, but to his knowledge the hard-ass wasn't aware of it... Yet.

He'd often catch himself staring at the specific Galran, not that anyone would actually blame him. Anyone would probably be falling to their knees for the man honestly, it was just how he outwardly presented himself that seemed to ward off any suitors; cold and aloof, always such a serious hard-ass!

But there was a certain charm in that, that drew R dangerously in, no it didn't keep R away from him. The werewolf always trying to strike up a conversation with the man. Tail wagging like no tomorrow as the man talked and talked about whatever that came to mind, not that Kolivan seemed to mind much but at times it felt like R was just being ignored. Which, he didn't really mind as he was on Kolivan's side nearly every time he could. At first he hadn't realized the small crush that he'd been brewing for his leader, but it became more noticable to the others. The way the werewolf would be at a beg and call for the galran, how he tried to impress him and subconsciously scent him from time to time even.

So it wasn't such a surprise having the werewolf fully transformed dashing back into the base of the enemy to retrieve Kolivan during the mission that had gone wrong and one of the bombs they had planned had prematurely exploded. He just couldn't bear the idea of having to lose someone he cared about and that ended with few stray gun wounds on his body from the energy blasters and an injured Kolivan on his back being dragged to the shuffle.

Not that he complained before or now afterwards about it. He took the scolding like a pouting child but it didn't matter, they were both safe and sound.

"What are you, stupid?" Kolivan scoffed at himself as he tended to the injured werewolf, his tone low and understandably angry as he applied pressure to the wound on the man's shoulder eliciting a small wince from him, "you broke the rules, you should have—" a growl interrupting the scolding that was just to begin as the human looked to him with a displeased expression, "— I should have left you there, I'm well aware of that but I just couldn't!"

"And why not? I could kick you off this team for the stunt you made. We do not need disobedient mutts running around and endangering our soldiers and the missions, [R/name]. All of us know the rules, you should know them as well." He spoke in a serious tone with a hearable edge of anger lacing his words, leaving a bitter feeling in R's chest as he scoffed. Kolivan stopped for a moment, "Did you just scoff at me?" Disbelief ridden over him as his brow furrowed with a slight surprise in his expression, "you are one rude of a mutt, you know that right?"

"You don't think the life of a soldier is valuable to go back to?" R questioned as he stared at the Galran who was tending to his injured shoulder, having been so insistent on it just so he could scold the human in peace it seemed! "Not if it endangers the mission." Falling silent as R huffed, he knew he had been in the wrong, but he just couldn't bear the idea of leaving Kolivan behind. It sounded so ridiculous and stupid to me!

A silence fell upon the two as R looked off to the right of himself, feeling Kolivan prodding his arm. Goddamn, did the man feel sore though! His muscles burned and his joints creaked uncomfortably grinding against each other as he sat, still feeling a bit out of breath from the transformation he'd undergone.

The silence was broken off as Kolivan asked him, "Why did you come back, anyways? Why reach and endanger your own life for me, is it just some kind of human sense to do or something?" Snorting lightly at that as he leaned back a little with a small hiss, a hand coming to rest on his shoulder nearly atop Kolivan's own, "oh, OH, you don't even know what the human self sacrifice sense is like!" "Actually, I'm pretty sure I know a thing or two about it—" "yeah, from the view of watching a half-galran teenager run around, that's completely different to my kind!" Shaking his head lightly with an amused huff as Kolivan dropped his hand from R's shoulder, "yeah, okay true. You're not as much if a wild card like Keith is."

"Thank you!" R smirked as he gave a small gesture with his hand, "Uh.. but to answer your question, I did it because life is valuable."

"Is that all? You ran and endangered your ass just because ""life is valuable"" as you say?" Kolivan tilted his head a little as he stared at R, the man giving an awkward huff as he looked away.

"I mean, you are valuable .. and, and it would be a pity to waste such a good leader." He fumbled with his words as he attempted to word his sentence, "and, because you're important... To m.. us." Giving a small smile at that as he corrected himself, glancing over at the galran who simply stared at him.

"[R/name]," taking the werewolf's jaw in his hand as he turned the man's face to look at him, "you are like a lost puppy. And I love that, it's adorable. But for the goddamn life of me, you make me lose my hair from the stress you cause even more than Keith dies. Never do that again, understood?"

"... You think I'm adorable?"

[fuerstinlya]

Royal greetings!

Another sketch/doodle of kolivan

I was trying some lipstick on and decorating a piece of paper with it. Later, I thought it would be a cool background pattern for a little midnight sketch!

confused Kolivan

Stay tuned, darlings!

-Fürstin Lya

[bugresources]

★ 100 x 100 roleplay icons, free to use, free to edit. likes & reblogs are always appreciated, link back if you have a credits page. broken link? let me know.

CHARACTER: Kolivan SERIES: Voltron: Legendary Defender (2016) COUNT: 108 DOWNLOAD: MEGA

[lapseinrecs]

The Best Medicine In Space

By bouquetofwhoopsiedaisies @bouquetofwhoopsiedaisies25

On Archive of Our Own

Status: Complete; Oneshot; 5,327 words

Summary:“Sorry,” Keith sighed, pushing his hair away from his sweaty forehead. “I woke up feeling sick this morning, and I thought I could power through it, but I guess it got worse.” The Blades exchanged confused looks. “Sick?” “Yeah. Sick, you know, ill. Unwell. The opposite of a healthy state.” Keith looked around at all of them, taking in their puzzled looks. “When there’s, like, a foreign virus or bacteria that gets into the body and attacks the immune system, and the body has to fight it off.” Confused and awed murmuring broke out among the Blades, who wondered aloud if this was true. “This has been known to happen to certain species of aliens.” Ulaz said slowly. “But Galra do not ‘get sick’.” “Well, humans do.” Keith said. “Guess I didn’t inherit a Galra immune system.” He broke off to cough a few times into the crook of his arm. (After Keith collapses in the middle of sparring, the Blades learn that humans can get sick and what that means. Taking care of their sick youngest member brings out some of the Blades' protective sides.)

My thoughts: Cute! Cute cute cute. Poor Keith is unwell, but there are snuggles and its cute. This is the first Keith centric thing I've recced I think lol.

[weirdlaughs-uwu]

La verdadera razón por la que Keith volvió

REGRETS

companion to this

Why is he missing that?? He should have never left.

[bicsbec]

Stay a Little Longer pt.1 (ao3 link)

Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe had loved many things throughout his life. He had loved singing, he had loved being of service to his kingdom, his King…oh, how he had loved his King. He liked to say that there were no secrets between him and King Alfor, but Coran’s affections never saw the light of day beyond his loyalty and guidance.

Coran had lost Alfor twice. The first time was on his wedding day, when he married the woman he’d been promised to. The second time was the last day he would ever see Alfor alive again. He listened with rapt attention the orders he was to execute: make sure Allura is safe, make sure the Castle of Lions is ready, make sure something, anything survived. Coran had followed through, heart heavy, dutifully shifting his devotion from his king to the King’s daughter.

Of all the people Coran had loved, Allura was the one closest to his heart. She grew to be like a daughter to him, and she saw him like a second father. Allura was his last piece of home and he, hers. She was his drive, his hope for a better universe, his light…

And then, she was gone.

“She—she saved everyone, everything,” Shiro said, his voice a mix of awe and pain. The rest of the Paladins remained in somber silence, quiet hiccups echoed softly in the Atlas bridge, and silent tears ran down their faces. Coran didn’t really believe them. Allura had been speaking through the comms just a few vargas ago. She couldn’t just be gone. It couldn’t be that simple.

When Coran had lost Alfor, the sky was coming down on them, people were dying, horrible, tortured screams were heard from the distance, their home was obliterated; everything felt properly hopeless, despondent.

The sounds of tragedy followed tragedy. It didn’t make sense that they had finally, truly saved the universe and the only thing Coran could feel was an abysmal nothing through his chest. He felt light in his disbelief, almost like he was removed from his own body. But the crushing reality slammed down on him when he took notice of Lance.

Lance had new marks on his cheeks, Altean marks. Coran felt his knees give out and slam on the floor. He stared at the Paladins’ boots as the quiet shock faded out, and the roaring pain his heart felt surged and rocked his core, his being. His Princess was gone. Just gone. No body, no grave.

It felt like the world had been yanked from under his feet, it felt like he would never have proper footing again. Like—a wail rang through the suffocating silence of the bridge. Coran felt a swarm of arms around him, the people that had become his family trying their best to hold him up, and he collapsed.

Damn my life. The thought had become an unintentional mantra. He saw her everywhere. Every corner he turned, he thought he saw the flap of her dress, a lock of her hair, the echo of her laugh. He saw her in the pinks of his suit, in the Altea she brought back, in the people they had once thought lost. Every time, his heart would traitorously lighten and quickly fall back down, renewing the ache in his chest.

He saw her in the Paladins. He saw her in Lance, in his kindness and patience; in Keith, in his noble heart and need to help others; in Shiro’s leadership and resolve; in Hunk’s understanding of others; in Pidge’s eagerness to see change through. Seeing them pained Coran. They were a living reminder of how she was, how she lived, but they weren’t her. They could never be.

His heart was tired. Tired of how Allura’s name would slip out when he talked with Romelle, tired of the guilt he felt for doing so, tired of the lump in his throat. Tired of his inescapable grief.

Damn my life.

It didn’t surprise him when he slowly fell behind on his duties, slowly stopped going to meetings, slowly caved in on himself. He couldn’t pretend to be fine, pretend he’d moved on. He accepted this as his new reality, resigned to the weight of his grief.

What did surprise him was the hand that pulled him out of his self-destructive void.

There was a knock at his door.

“Coran?” Romelle’s voice rang through. “There’s someone here to see you.”

“Emi can handle Curtis, Romelle,” he called back.

The door to his room slid open. Coran resisted the urge to grumble at the intrusion, but immediately straightened when he saw who was with Romelle.

“Keith.” It took Coran a tick to register that the Red Paladin was really there. “Hello.”

“Hey, Coran. Thank you, Romelle.” Keith stepped into the room, looking around, inspecting its state. “I’d rather avoid small talk, if you don’t mind.”

Coran nodded. “Please.” He gestured for Keith to sit at his desk. Keith pulled out the chair and sat, looking like he wasn’t sure where to start. He leaned forward on his elbows and took a breath.

“We’re—I’m worried. I’m sure the others are worried, too, but…it’s like they’re not there. Allura’s death fucked us over and we’re not even talking about it.”

Coran winced at his bluntness.

“Shiro’s drinking, no one’s heard from Hunk in months, Pidge hasn’t slept in who knows how long, and Lance—” Keith swallowed around the crack in his voice. “I’ve never seen them so broken.” He ran a hand over his face. “We’re not okay, Coran. And neither are you.”

“Why are you here, Keith?”

“We need to move forward.”

Coran grunted and stood. “That’s certainly rich coming from you.”

“Coran—”

“Were you not the one that refused to move forward when Shiro disappeared?”

“That was different,” Keith said in a level voice.

“Exactly how is it—”

“Allura isn’t coming back.”

The silence that stretched over them was taunt and uncomfortable.

“We need you,” Keith said gently. “The Empire fell, the universe is healing; she would want us to savor it, wouldn’t she?” Keith stood from his chair, seemingly uncertain of his next move. “I know what it’s like to lose someone close, someone that’s family. The first time, I was alone. I don’t remember my dad very well, but I remember how alone I felt after he died. And then—Shiro made things easier. Then I lost Shiro, too, and it felt like I couldn’t keep anyone close; family was something I wasn’t meant to have… But I found you guys and when I lost Shiro again it was easier. You made carrying that pain easier.”

Coran felt a rush of melancholy and pride, seeing how much Keith had grown and wishing Allura could see how far he's come. His heart broke all over again and, this time, Keith was there to catch him as he crumbled.

“I can’t do this without her—”

“You can, we’ve got you.” Keith held him tighter.

“I want the pain to stop, I need it to.”

“I know.”

Coran felt so small, like in his younger quintants when his Pop-Pop would soothe him after a bad scrape in the castle grounds. But this scrape felt too big and too bad, like it would never close up properly, like everything would just spill out and drain him. His heart was just about ready to give up.

But Keith didn’t let him. He stuck around for the next couple of movements, making sure Coran ate and got some fresh air at the very least. Having Keith around gave him a sense of normalcy he’d been needing, slowly beginning to balance himself out. Some quintants were harder than others, but those became increasingly scarcer.

Coran’s head cleared enough for him to notice how Keith was putting up a strong front for Coran’s benefit. The Red Paladin occasionally slipped, and Coran could see the paranoia that laid beneath the surface. Keith was particularly jumpy around the new Alteans that roamed about the castle, not being used to how crowded the grand halls now were.

One blessedly quiet afternoon, on the bridge, Keith was working from his Paladin seat as Coran tinkered away on the control panel, running the castle diagnostics. Coran sighed, relishing the idle familiarity, something in his chest feeling suspiciously close to serenity.

“Keith?”

“Yeah?” He sounded absorbed in the report he’d been reading.

“I don’t think I ever said thank you.”

He was met with a few beats of silence. Coran looked up from his spot on the floor and saw Keith covering his eyes with his hand. Keith shook his head ever so slightly and took a shaky breath.

“It’s really nothing, Coran.” His voice was more composed than he looked.

“It’s not nothing, my boy,” Coran said firmly. “Without you, I probably would still be locked in my room. I’d probably still be in bed, honestly. And Allura would’ve hated that. You were right, you know. She wants us to savor this, her accomplishments, the healing of the universe.”

“Right.”

“I don’t want to keep inconveniencing the Blade of Marmora by keeping you here in Altea.”

“Kolivan said it wasn’t a problem,” Keith said, scrubbing his face and looking over to Coran.

“I doubt he said that.”

Keith cleared his throat. “He said I could return to my regular duties the moment you return to coordinating the Galactic Coalition’s first meeting.”

Coran faltered at that. “How does he even know about that?”

“Curtis mentioned it a few movements ago during a call where I was checking up on Shiro,” Keith said. “Kolivan overheard but didn’t think much of it until I came over. Then he ordered me to stay. Not that I wouldn’t have stayed otherwise.”

Coran felt himself smile fondly at Keith’s words. He was such a sweet lad, sweeter than he led on. “Then I’ll get on that tomorrow,” Coran said with a shrug, returning to his comfortable tinkering.

“You really don’t have to,” Keith said quickly. “I like being back here again.”

“The Alteans make you jump like a Puigan Rabbit, Keith. I’ve enjoyed having you around again, but I can tell you’re itching to get back to your routine.”

“Coran—”

“I’ll be fine. I promise. And you can always visit.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“I can stay another movement if you’d like.”

“I would like that, but as you said, we need to move on,” Coran said, taking a steading breath. “The Team needs us, too. We need to be there for them like you were with me.”

Keith smiled; a soft, rare thing Coran hardly saw these days. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

He still missed Allura, but it wasn’t a crippling sensation anymore. On hard mornings, it was like feeling that empty hole in his chest again, but only in moments, not in prolonged days and nights. It was becoming bearable. Peace had snuck up on him, a pleasant surprise he hadn’t expected to see in a very long time.

* * *

The deca-phoebs had been gradually kinder to Team Voltron. They slowly became more themselves: Hunk’s passion for cooking was revived, starting a new project called Happy Lives; Shiro started seeing a therapist the VA provided; Lance was devoting his time to growing juniberries on Earth; Pidge was working with her brother on some AI software; and Keith was visiting Coran every movement he could, slowly becoming an important leader in the Blade.

Coran had transformed the Voltron Coalition into the Galactic Coalition. It was an interesting shift, going from uniting to face a common enemy to finding himself in the middle of diplomatic squabbles, all too similar to the ones he endured beside Alfor.

As he usually did, Coran wanted to do too many things at the same time. Emi, Commander Holt, and Senior Officer Colt refrained him from doing so. They set boundaries and established lines so Coran would stay focused on the fraction of the galaxy he could help. They helped Coran lay out a system that worked and remained functional: two representatives per planet, one planet representing its system. System representatives were put on a rotational schedule, eventually having each system would stop by the Coalition’s table to present their qualms. Emergency sessions could be called to attend a planet’s individual needs. Everything was meant to run as smoothly as possible.

Not only was Coran surprisingly satisfied with the schedule lay out—something he would always find himself fussing over until Allura would’ve had to pull him away so he could relax—but he found himself happy to share the weight of the work. Having been the Royal Family’s advisor usually had left him with a lot of work, work he had been entrusted to execute. He took pride in that trust. He’d never thought he’d see the quintant where he trusted others with his work, where he was able to loosen his grip on his duties and was willing to delegate.

Even with all the delegation he was comfortable doing, Coran found his quintants pleasantly busy. Keith’s visits were the highlight of his movement. He reminded Coran to take breaks, made him stop working and pulled him out of his office.

They would walk around the castle grounds and Coran would remember when he was a young boy, jumping around and exploring the unfinished parts of the castle. He would remember when Allura was a little girl and he told Keith of all the kinds of trouble she’d get into; running after the little critters she found around the grounds, hiding around the castle during the balls King Alfor would throw and scaring her parents in the process. He told Keith of how her mother would walk with her through the garden and Allura would jump at the sight of a spider but coo at the sight of a caterpillar. The stories poured out of him, movement after movement. The first time she brought Platt, Chulatt, Plachu, and Chuchule into his office and scared him half to death, the first time he saw her potential as a leader, the first time she led a meeting alongside her father.

Keith’s visits always left Coran looking back fondly at the past. He would still tear up at the thought of her, but his love had begun to overshadow his grief. He could laugh at the silly memories and smile at the gentler ones. His heart felt lighter—or less heavy.

Sometimes, Keith came with fellow Blades, sometimes he came with Kolivan—who always had business elsewhere in the castle—but Keith always tried to make time for Coran, even if it was just for lunch. It eventually became the case that the colors of the Blade uniforms were enough to brighten up Coran’s day.

On quintants when Emi took care of the Coalition’s squabbles, Coran would draft and tinker away in his office, keeping up maintenance and adding improvements to his Pop-Pop’s legacy. It was on one of these quintants that Coran spotted the blue and gray tarps of the Blade’s uniform and was already smiling before he looked up from his blueprints.

It was Kolivan, standing somewhat rigidly at the door, his expression as stoic as the first quintant they met.

“Hello, Kolivan,” Coran greeted. He noticed how no one else was walking through the door. “Where’s Keith?”

“He asked me to come and excuse him this phoeb,” Kolivan said with a short apologetic bow.

“Oh, he could’ve just sent a message,” Coran said a little confused. “No need for you to come all this way.”

“He also said that you required company,” Kolivan said, not a hint of tone in his voice. Coran couldn’t tell how Kolivan felt about that, but heat slowly creep up Coran’s face.

“Oh! Did he now? I never meant to impose on your schedule,” Coran said hurriedly. “Honestly, it’s f—”

Kolivan held up a hand.

“Keith wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t know I was lacking in things to do,” Kolivan said, his lips quirking upwards in a stiff smile. Coran had seen Kolivan smile before, knew he was capable of laughing and beaming proudly. So, while he didn’t know the man very well, he knew enough to tell he wasn’t very comfortable.

“I trust how Keith manages and uses his time. He wouldn’t visit if it wasn’t important, it’s not a chore for me to do, but a duty to fulfill. Please be at ease.”

Coran felt a flurry of emotion mixed between flustered and flattered. Important. Coran was important to Keith. His well-being was a priority in Keith’s long list of responsibilities and duties to oversee. That dear boy.

Coran cleared his throat and took a breath. “Well, if that’s how you see it, I won’t insist on the contrary.”

Kolivan nodded and took a step inside the office. He glanced around, much like Keith had that first visit a few deca-phoebs ago. “Keith didn’t give detailed instructions. What is it he usually does?”

“We talk,” Coran shrugged. “Check in on how the other is doing, catch up on current projects and the like, reminisce on past times.”

Kolivan’s ear twitched and Coran laughed.

“I don’t expect any of that from you,” Coran assured him. “We can just sit here in silence. I don’t mind the company while I work.”

“Did I interrupt something?”

“Nothing of political importance, if that’s what worries you,” Coran said with a smile. Kolivan’s shoulders seemed to untense. “Come sit. Sit, sit.” Coran gestured to the armchair in front of his desk. Kolivan moved dutifully across the room, taking a seat, and inspecting the objects on Coran’s desk.

Beside the memory files that were stacked to the side and digital filer that contained the Coalition’s current reports, Coran had a few objects he was, if only, a tad self-conscious of: five Altean toys. The more obvious one was Allura’s favorite when she was younger: a small Klanmüirl stuffed plush; the second rested as a disk-shaped platform, but contained various puzzles displayed by holograms (he’d carried it everywhere as a boy, which was evident in its worn edges); the third was a simple spinning top he kept around for when he got anxious and needed to fidget with something; the fourth was the miniature for his Monsters and Mana character, Dakin the Powerful Wizard; the last was a gift form Alfor, the Altean version of the Olkari Cube, the Secret Keeper.

Kolivan’s eyes lingered on the Secret Keeper with a spark of curiosity, eyes darting to the actual Olkari Cube Coran had been gifted in Olkarion, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he asked, “W-what were you working on?

Coran smiled, appreciating the effort. “Drones,” he said cheerily. “The idea came to me when I was talking to dear Number Five last movement. She had mentioned her drone Rover in passing and I remembered how helpful the fella had been. So I thought, I’m sure I can design some for the castle, have them run around, help officials with tasks and storing data.

“I’m drafting up a few models before I send them to Pidge. A few fire walls here and there in their programming and they should be more secure than the original Rover.”

“I forgot that was in your skill set,” Kolivan said honestly. “It’s easier to see you as a politician these quintants.”

“Well, they don’t call me the Coranic Mechanic for nothing! I was head engineer of this castle for quite some time. Even as I fulfilled my role as royal advisor,” Coran beamed proudly.

“I didn’t realize,” Kolivan said with a nod that was almost a small bow.

“And what are your current affairs?”

“Accompanying you,” he said simply.

“Right, yes,” Coran said, feeling a little silly for asking.

The silence that followed that visit was uncomfortable at first but slowly shifted into something more familiar. Kolivan was a calming presence in Coran’s office. His gaze loitered around different parts of the room, allowing Coran to focus on the last set of notes for his drone drafts.

After some time, Coran looked up from his digital filer to find Kolivan standing near the window, looking out over the castle grounds.

“Keith usually leaves around this time,” Coran said.

“Has my company been sufficient?”

“It has,” Coran said with a smile.

“Very well,” Kolivan bowed. “I’ll leave you to your duties. Good day.”

And with that, Kolivan took the calm with him, Coran soon becoming jittery by himself. He wondered what it was about Kolivan that soothed him as he’d worked. He reached for the spinning top as he stared at the spot Kolivan had been standing in. It had been so familiar…

A playful smile and bright eyes flashed in Coran’s head.

Somedays… somedays I wish you’d open that already.

Coran shook his head, shooing way the silly memory.

The reunion they had every deca-phoeb was getting closer. Coran had thought that maybe the Paladins needed each other’s support around this time of the deca-phoeb. So, he organized an annual reunion to get through the date. Almost naturally, they started celebrating Allura’s life instead of grieving her death. It became a quintant to look forward to.

Team Voltron together once more. The thought made him smile.

Pidge, Lance, and Shiro were the first to arrive, followed shortly by Hunk. Keith was the last to get there, apologizing for being held back by a mission.

They spent the afternoon catching up and swapping stories. Coran noticed near the end of dinner that Shiro hadn’t stopped smiling since he arrived. There was something in him that was giddy, even. As happy as the sight made Coran, it was curious and odd for Shiro to be like this. Keith seemed to notice it too, occasionally looking over at Coran as if to make sure they were both seeing the same thing.

“Is something on your mind, Shiro?” Coran finally spoke up.

“Hm?” Shiro looked up, still smiling. “Well, not really—I was gonna wait until after dinner, but…”

That got the rest of the table’s attention, all eyes now on Shiro. He sat up straighter, clearing his throat.

“Um, alright,” Shiro looked around, his eyes lingering on Keith. “You guys are my family and I wanted you to be the first to know. You all know that Curtis and I have been seeing each other for some time now and, well, we’re engaged.” Shiro gave half a shrug, looking down bashfully at the table. The news registered a beat later.

“Dude, that’s awesome!”

“Congratulations!”

“That’s great to hear!”

“That’s wonderful news!”

“Thank you, guys,” Shiro beamed. “I wanted to ask you something, too. I was wondering if you could be my groomsmen—groomspeople? I want you guys to be up there with me.” Shiro was looking at his team. At the people he’d fought alongside with and defended so many times. Then he looked up at Coran. “And I wanted to ask you if you’d do me the honor of walking down the aisle with me.”

Shiro was met with a chorus of excited ‘of course’s and ‘yes’s, but his eyes remained on Coran. Coran, who was currently at a loss for words, eyes tearing up. He stood from his chair and rushed to Shiro’s side of the table, hugging him tightly.

“Of course, I’d love to—I’d be honored, I—” his words were cut off by the force of Shiro hugging him back.

“Thank you,” he said, a hint of relief in his voice. Then he pulled away and looked around the table, “To all of you.”

After that, the conversation shifted to talk of wedding preparations and comments about ‘making sure Curtis is good enough for you,’ which Shiro dismissed with a chuckle and a shake of his head. Coran watched the scene unfold fondly and thought: Allura would’ve loved this.

Coran distantly realized that had been the least painful thought he’d had all day.

pt. 2 >

[xochitai]

Got rid of some awkward extra space and neatened up the bubbles. Probably could have done that when I first drew this, but it was my first multi-page comic and I was tired  ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯ 

[midnottart]

Some Voltron doodles of Shiro, Keith and Kolivan.

[weezmancer3]

Galran Keith hcs

I like to think that as Galran's genetics get diluted, the animal they correspond with just gets smaller. Like, since Keith is only half-galra, he has behaviors similar to a bobcat while Krolia and Kolivan have big cat traits.

Like, bobcats are awesome at climbing so Keith is always on top of things he shouldn't be on top of. Also, they don't roar, they scream/yowl, and hiss. AND, unlike big cats, bobcats can purr! Keith has definitely been on a mission with the blades where he gets frustrated and just...yowls. And it makes so much sense for him to hiss when Lance starts getting on his nerves.

His galran traits freak out the paladins/alteans a bit (save for Shiro, he's seen worse) but the blades think they're adorable. Bc, imagine you're Kolivan (completely galran/big cat traits) and there's this scrawny new kid who hisses when he gets pissed.

That's it for now, I love galran Keith. <333

[miraculousbumbble]

When the paladins got back to Earth, they weren't thinking about politics or how tough it would be to integrate the entire universe with Earth's database. And of course, somehow, Keith ended up being the one person to have to deal with the Gala resistance fighters and making sure they filed their damn paperwork.

"Yes, I know you've already moved Acxa into your clan Kolivan, but Earth doesn't see it that way. You have to fill out adoption papers, so they know she's your kid."

"No, Ezor I know you and Zethred are bonded. But Earth needs you to fill a marital status. Why? In case you get hurt in Earth territory. Yes, I know you can handle yourself, but the government needs to know who to contact."

"Krolia you have to officially notice Romelle as your kindling by Earth standards. Why? Because mom, I'm a member of the government and they need to know who is considered family and who isn't."

"No, Ezor and I don't consider each other family but because Acxa does, it goes into my paperwork as us being family."

"Zethrid, Ezor, you can't take random alien babies and claim them as your own without bringing them in for a checkup and filing the paperwork... Because Zethrid, Earth thinks were family!"

Keith specifically spends as little time as possible on Earth just so he doesn't have to update his paperwork. Galra customs and Earth paperwork don't mix well, and Keith is kind of sick of it.

[torveiglyart]

Continuation of the BlackPaladin! Lance AU. Keith is in for quite the surprise…

[galraluver]

*after Keith joins the BoM*

Regris: Welcome to Fairy Tail, please leave your sanity at the door

Kolivan: *facepalms*

Antok: *whispers to Kolivan* He used the wrong line again

[fuerstinlya]

What do you think Kolivan looked like as a teen?

Royal Greetings honey!

Oh my lord, Kolivan is one of my favorite characters, and I thought of this a lot!

(I'm sure gonna draw this someday 👀)

Accessoires/Details, I imagined him wearing (and headcanons) :

- maybe a freshly done tattoo

- his Hair (a little bit shorter) in a bun (little bit messy, with spikes and loose strands)

- his eyes being "normal" (with an iris)

- he sure liked to play card games

- him wearing sleeveless tops

- bandages around his wrists (maybe just for fashion, maybe because he was being reckless)

- him playing an instrument (+ listening to rock, maybe metal??)

- I have the headcanon he had like 12 sisters and was the only boy in his family (idk it's adorable!)

- him being considered as the boy you shouldn't hang out with (even tho he's nice) because of his actions (nothing bad, just minor pranks)

explanation:

people who are stern as adults were often really outgoing, funny children and had a wild childhood!

Thank you for your question, my love, stay tuned!

- Fürstin Lya

[graphx]

VLD Hiraeth AU: Blade of Marmora Keith (Part 2)

read it all here!

trigger warnings// suicidal ideologies, war, blood, injury etc. (general Blade of Marmora stuff)

“A name?”

Thace doesn’t look up from where he’s working, the glow of quintessence illuminating the rest of his lab with a warm glow that looks out of place compared to the harsh darkness of the violet metal. The data pad he’s holding gives a low hum, working overdrive analyzing a new substance from one of the more recent intelligence missions. Keith had watched them come back, battered and bruised without a single complaint. Their limping, staggered pace and hard breathing that could be heard through their masks were the only sign it had been a precarious operation at all.

He remembered reporting all of this to Thace, who had nodded in approval. “You’re getting better at recognizing their body language. It took you longer than the others to progress this quickly, although that might be due to your… differences.”

“Why can’t I just tell you what I am?” Keith had asked, fighting the urge to pick at his mask, uncomfortably secured around his face. It gave him a headache, the narrow goggles pressing too tight on his nose and the view screens slightly clouded by his own breath. It made the entire world around him look foggy, his vision slightly tinted blue.

“Kolivan has ordered that your identity remain a secret even to your fellow Blade members. Your race, whatever it is, must not be revealed for your own safety.”

“So that’s it? Kolivan doesn’t trust you?” Keith snarled in frustration, pulling his knees to his chest.

“Kolivan doesn’t trust anyone. It’s one of the reasons we all respect him so much. It’s not due to his strength, that other Galra value so highly, but his judgment, his decisiveness. He will do what needs to be done and we trust him to make the decisions that will ensure the Blade of Marmora’s survival. Trust is a hard thing to earn and he doesn’t give it to anyone who’s not worthy.”

“So he doesn’t trust the other Blades either? Any of them? They don’t…” Keith had always thought that the other Blades, at the very least, wouldn’t question Kolivan. Even if they settled their disagreements with steel, even if they drew blood with claws and teeth and blades they still listened to Kolivan... Right? There had to be some kind of reason they tolerated Keith here, despite their disdain of his half breed origins, and that was Kolivan. They wouldn’t hurt him if they listened to Kolivan, they had to. 

He thinks of Antok, tall and indifferent, impossible to read with a constant stiff posture that didn’t give away anything behind his mask. A mask he always wore, no matter who he was with. A choice he got that Keith didn’t. Sharp words and sharper sword, swiping and slashing and Keith dodges the best he can but the blows he lands sting, the blood dripping down his suit, red sticking to the fabric, between his fingers, between his teeth-

“The Blades are… different from what they once were.” Keith latches onto Thace’s words, noticing the smallest crease in his brow. He had seen the same look of remorse, maybe regret, when he observed the others returning, fighting over what scraps they had left in their supplies to treat their injuries. Maybe Kolivan wasn’t the only Blade member who was thrilled about the sudden lack of standards. 

 “The traditions of the Marmora must be upheld if we are to survive this new era of war. And, contrary to the ideals of the rest of the Galra, Kolivan knows that wars aren’t won with bloodshed. Victory doesn’t stop death and death doesn’t gain you a victory. Knowledge is the only thing that has power here. Don’t forget that.”

Keith looks down to his feet, gritting his jaw over the lecture he didn’t want.

“It would be wise not to question him,” Thace said casually, pausing to glance over his shoulder, “Unless you want to ask him yourself? You can’t beat him in a Trial.”

Keith turned to glare at him as Thace went back to work.

“I just want a name, is it that hard to give me a straight answer?”

“You know information is sacred here. It doesn’t come without a cost. Were you not listening to how important it is to uphold the Trials?”

“That doesn’t change the fact Kolivan still wants me to choose a name. That doesn’t mean you have to be so vague about everything. Spit it out, are you going to tell me a name I can use or not?”

Thace actually had the audacity to smirk, ears twitching in amusement. “The entire point of this organization is its secrecy. It is an integral part of who we are. To the universe we don’t exist. You can’t defeat something that doesn’t exist… Although,” The amused expression melted off his face, “You should remember that to be a Member of the Blades is to give up your identity. To be unknown to the universe, to leave no trace. You are an extension of the cause, nothing more, nothing less. Our mission requires that we give up everything that we were, change everything that we are to be what the mission needs. We must make this sacrifice for the greater good of not only the Galra, but the universe.”

“…It’s not fair…” Keith grits his teeth and he swears he hears his own jaws creak under the force. The ache keeps him grounded as he tries to think of anything else, but his mind keeps returning to the moment where the only person he had ever loved went back into fire for someone he never knew. His back turned to Keith with one last smile over his shoulder as he willingly walked back into the flames, a Galran knife glowing in his hand, flickering against the light. It was the last he ever saw of him as the smoke made his eyes water so much he couldn’t see, the screams for him to come back clawing their way out of his throat only for more ash to take the place of the words he knew wouldn’t be enough to convince him to come back, to not leave him, to stay-

He jerks at the touch on his shoulder, hand immediately flying to his sheath on his hip until he meets Thace’s eyes. The expression is harder to read, strange, but still close enough that Keith knows pity when he sees it. Even with glowing yellow eyes devoid of pupils he still recognizes the tightness of his brow with a small smile that makes Keith’s blood boil.

“You should distance yourself from that mindset if you want to survive here. The last thing I want is for you to hurt needlessly. Everything you were before doesn’t exist. You can’t hurt someone who doesn’t exist. Please,” his grip tightens around Keith’s shoulders and he wonders how many others have repeated the same phrase like it gives them some sick sense of security. “Accept this. You will learn eventually. Struggling will only hurt yourself- that benefits no one.”

Keith knows this is the reality of his life now and nothing is going to change it. Maybe he was always meant to be here in a place where bloodshed was second nature. Maybe violence did run in his veins, given to him by someone he had never known. Maybe it would be easier to forget dark eyes and deep laughs and rough, calloused hands in his hair tucking him in after falling asleep watching the stars. But it’s all he has left other than the scar on a face that looks too much like his father’s. 

But Keith has never been one to take the easy way out and he’s not going to start now.

He can’t read the expression Thace makes as Keith slaps his hand away, and he doesn’t try. Thace’s footsteps don’t try to follow him as he storms off down the halls, high and sharp above his head like guillotine blades that could fall at any moment. He doesn’t hear anything but the blood rushing in his ears, his vision only becoming more blurry as he continues to stomp down the hall like a child. He doesn’t care, a storm of fire brewing in his gut with so much fury that he doesn’t know what to do with-

Keith is jared from his thoughts, colliding with a taller figure he didn’t even see, much less hear. He recognizes Ulaz a second later, the half breed Galra steadying him with a firm hand on his shoulder. Ulaz isn’t like Thace; he doesn’t try to pick him apart, analyze every expression he makes to figure out the root of the problem. He simply takes nods for Keith to follow him, and he does. It’s not like he has anything better to do and all the other Blades know he’ll pick a fight he can’t win if he is left alone with his thoughts for too long with nothing to do.

“Did Thace tell you to come get me?” Keith asks with his eyes still rooted to the floor. It strains his neck to look up to meet Ulaz’s eyes.

“No,” He responded simply. “Thace informed me he had completed his research and that it required my expertise. You will assist me since Thace has dismissed you.”

Keith followed him silently to his lab, cleaner than Thace’s but no less polished. Ulaz disregarded the information before leading Keith to the training area, a square pit that didn’t hurt as much as the metal when you fell on it. But not by much. Everything hurt the same after being thrown across the room by someone three times your size, but strangely enough, that had never bothered him too much.

What Keith found strange was their movements, the way they fought was unlike anything he had ever seen before. It still unnerved him to see Ulaz’s stance, but Keith mirrored it with his own without question. He was grateful for the excuse to finally hit something. It was still odd to him how most Blade members towered above him and yet they didn’t make a single sound wherever they went. No echo of footsteps on metal, like they weren’t even there, just ghosts haunting the base at the edge of the universe.

He had thought Ulaz looked a bit like a ghost before, not that he would admit it out loud. The white fur, angular features and golden eyes would be off putting for any human child that saw him. Any other seven year old would have been frightened, but Keith had stood his ground. Maybe that was why he had decided to train him.

Ulaz had never gone easy on him, and today was no different. No matter how many times he dodged, pivoted, skidded to the side, the blows all landed. Enough to bruise him, but not much else. The rhythm was the perfect way to quell the lava under his skin, bubbling the surface with every movement. This was what he excelled at, the bend of the knees indicating Ulaz was about to kick, the brush of his feet against the floor as he distributed his weight for another blow. The exhilaration in Keith’s blood was enough to make him forget about Thace’s warning, however temporary.

In the end Keith hadn’t even managed to land a single blow, but he still buzzed in excitement all the same, still shifting his weight from foot to foot as Ulaz handed him a pouch of water. They could have been that way for hours and the only indication of time passing would be the adrenaline fading from his system. Ulaz had always been the one to end their sessions. It was a little victory that Keith had never yielded before and Ulaz was always the one to draw his limits. It probably didn’t mean much to Ulaz who had seen hundreds of young fools with potential, but it was a sign Keith wouldn’t quit when others did and he was proud of it.

The only sound between them was Keith’s exhausted breathing as Ulaz continued his work.

“Kolivan says I need a name,” Keith says into the silence. The only indication that Ulaz had heard him was the shift in his white fur. “He says the one I have now…had… is too odd, and it gives away too much about where I’m from.”

“I have heard of similar situations for other members. Why do you ask this?”

“...I don’t know much about… All this stuff. Sure, you and Thace have been teaching me to recognize patterns in battle, preparations and protocols for missions and training but not much else. I don’t know anything about the Galra other than how they think, how they fight, how they kill. I don’t… know what name Kolivan would accept.”

Keith didn’t like admitting that much. Thace had always told him to be wary of what information he gave away, especially regarding his own weaknesses. Still, it wasn’t like he was going to get an answer otherwise. Ulaz would probably react like Thace had and there weren’t many other members he could ask. Yeah, it was probably a lost cause, but Keith was frustrated enough that even half-assed answers didn’t piss him off as much anymore.

“You are aware your name does not have to be of Galran origin? My own is not.” Keith turned to face him, curious, but Ulaz was still intently focused on his work.

“Galran half breeds have been victims of purebloods for generations. Our history is one of honor on the battlefield where blood is spilled and lives are lost. Blood is precious to Galrans. The idea that a being would disgrace their heritage by soiling their bloodline with other weaker species has always been insulting to purebloods. It always will be.”

Keith’s eyes widened in surprise, not that it mattered since Ulaz couldn’t see behind his mask, but something else must have given away his shock at the answer. Ulaz turned to face him now, expression still as stone.

“There are some Galrans, even here in the Blade of Marmora, who will always hate us because of what we are. What they do not understand is that we possess a strength that they do not. Galrans have been the same for generations, set in their ways, their ideals, their bloodlust but half breeds have the capability to change. While the universe moves on around us they will still be stuck in their hunger for violence, they cannot move past it; it is a fact they cannot escape.”

Keith… didn’t know how to react to this. It was the most someone had willingly given him without a duel of some kind, or a Trial to justify the knowledge he had gained. But Ulaz had just willingly explained his own story, his own history that he shared with Keith, and asked nothing in return. Maybe they were different compared to the other Blades. Keith still didn’t know how to feel about that either.

“I implore you to seek your own identity, to become something else entirely, something neither Galran nor any other kind of being. But know it will be a difficult path, to change while everything around you stays the same, to walk the line between what you are and what others feel you should be… It is a struggle only those of mixed blood will ever know. Do not change simply to adapt or you will lose yourself. Never apologize for something you are not, someone you can not and will not change. That is the only advice I can give you.”

“…Thank you.” Keith said, almost smiling as Ulaz tilted his head in confusion.

“…Thank…you?” The pronunciation was off, probably due to the fact most of the translators didn’t pick up languages from dead planets. Only then did he realize how odd it was to hear Ulaz speaking English.

“Yes,” Keith repeated. “Thank you for teaching me. It’s a phrase used from… Where I was before here. It shows appreciation or gratitude.”

Ulaz nodded and turned away once again, the room filled with the click of his claws on the hologram. Somehow it seemed less hollow than before, the echoes not quite reaching as far as they once did. The silence wasn’t so loud and Keith found that for the first time in a while that wasn’t as bad as it seemed.

Hiraeth!Keith oneshot (1)

read it all here!

trigger warnings// suicidal ideologies, war, blood, injury etc. (general Blade of Marmora stuff)

“GIVE IT BACK!”

Kolivan effortlessly dodged once again, Keith’s new sword that felt wrong in his hands barely grazing the long braid he wore that hung behind him. He adjusted his grip with a twist of his wrist but Kolivan simply backhanded him away, his strike not even grazing him.

“Emotions are a luxury we can’t afford,” Kolivan warned as he unbalanced Keith with a simple kick to the back of his knees. “You are attached to this blade; it is all you have left of your world. But that planet is gone, nothing but dust and rubble lost to the empty expanse of space. You must accept that if you are to survive here.”

His bones ached and throbbed but he still got to his feet, charging again like it was second nature. Kolivan punched him and he couldn’t tell where, the impact feeling all too similar to the rest of his body which he was sure was becoming a giant bruise.

With every hit he learned to roll with the impact better, getting up faster and faster, not allowing Kolivan a second to breathe. He punched while he deflected Kolivan’s weapon and missed. He kicked before he striked, learning and adapting based on what he saw Kolivan do. Not that it mattered. Keith hadn’t even managed to land one hit.

Keith had been told all his life by his father that he could do anything if he just set his mind to it. His dad had never lied before but Keith was starting to doubt it all the same. He wanted more than anything in the world, no the universe, to beat Kolivan, to get his knife, the only thing he had left, back and he would spill as much blood as he needed to get it back-

He had convinced himself that the reason he was failing was because this knife wasn’t his, it was similar but wrong, it fit into his hand wrong, it set against his belt wrong, it was too heavy and too light and at the same time, and it was all wrong. Kolivan could be beaten, he could escape, he could go back to a home that wasn’t there if he could just win but that was wrong too.

Keith could listen to his dad’s raspy voice again if he could hit harder. He could watch the sky bleed from twilight to dusk again on the porch if he could just move faster. He could feel wind in his hair and the ground rushing past him on his dad’s bike if he could just win.

A daze had taken over him, a delusional obsession deep in his gut that he believed with every fiber of his being that if he just did enough he could go home. He didn’t want to remember the fleets blocking out the sky, his father’s panicked voice, the tremors shaking the ground, the running, the smoke, the fire illuminating the blue glow of two crescents beneath cheeks as blood mixed with ash and his knife gleamed a little duller.

He had run away from it all, taken to a ship he didn’t recognize, pressed against people he didn’t know, drowning on dry land trying to breathe above the crowd towering over him-

And then Kolivan was there, a firm presence at his side that was wrong. It shouldn’t have been claws against his shoulder, it should have been his dad’s calloused hands. It shouldn’t be a pale multicolored face with a scar that ran down the side, it should have been his father’s with a nick above his eyebrow. He wanted to run, to feel sand under his feet, and run away as fast and far as he could because everything was wrong and nothing was going to change that. 

More than anything he was angry. More than that he was exhausted and he couldn’t run from that anymore as he sank to his knees, gasping for breath. It was a tiny rebellion, to show emotion when Kolivan had just told him not to. He glared up at him with all the fury his soul could produce, only for the taller Galran to kneel beside him.

“What do you want, Keith?” Kolivan asked indifferently, observing him with golden eyes.

“...I want my knife… back… it’s not… yours!” Keith heaved, scrambling to his knees.

“If you defeat me your weapon will be returned to you. But you must first learn how to defeat me. Knowledge is greater than power.” Kolivan stated so nonchalantly like it was simple. “You are powerful, you have survived through many endeavors, but you still cannot win. But you still must do what needs to be done.”

Keith’s gaze followed Kolivan’s blade as he dropped it, the sound echoing as soon as it hit the floor. He stared up in disbelief but he only waited. Keith watched the Blade lose its glow, no longer in Kolivan’s grasp. The insignia in the crossguard grew dark as he looked on impassively, waiting for the action Keith would take.

“You should have killed me by now,” Kolivan said calmly, like he knew Keith wouldn’t move. It snapped him from his shock, lunging for the hilt and crossing it with his own to rest barely an inch from Kolivan’s neck. Humiliation burned under his skin that he had to bend over to reach his height, but he still didn’t move, eyes not leaving Keith’s.

“You are granting me mercy. That was your first mistake,” Kolivan’s form blurred right in front of him and he didn’t even get the chance to nick him as Kolivan swept his legs out from under him. His stance mirrored the one Keith had taken not seconds ago, both swords hovering over his neck. Keith glared down at the swords, meeting Kolivan’s stare without flinching. It wasn’t like he had anything to lose.

“You are not powerful enough to grant mercy. You must permanently deal with your enemies to ensure they don’t hurt you or anyone else. Power is the ability to choose. The Blade of Marmora doesn’t have that option.” Kolivan lowered his sword. “Neither do you.”

Keith was quiet, no longer meeting his eyes. He only heard Kolivan sheath his own blade before setting down Keith’s own.

“Each blade is unique to every member. It is tied to your life force and bloodline. You should make your own in the forgery. Use the Luxite provided there sparingly, it is hard to gather these days.”

Before exiting Kolivan stopped, turning back to him. “Choose a new name. Your previous title has very obvious origins. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that your species is now very coveted by Alteans and Galrans which are currently the most powerful species in the galaxy. If you are to help the Blade of Marmora avenge your planet you must become one of us. Embrace your new duty to the universe… A purpose is a very important thing here. Don’t lose sight of your own.”

It took Keith a while to realize he had even left. The words and empty warnings floated through the empty space of his mind as he laid, motionless, on the floor. What did he want? What purpose did he even have here? What was even the point of getting off this shiny, cold floor?

Keith could have pondered those questions for the rest of his life. He could give up, right here, and never move again. The others probably wouldn’t even notice, if they even cared enough to. Who could blame him? A kid, alone, literally thrown into an unknown universe. The only planet he had ever known was destroyed before his eyes by a war he couldn’t even hope to understand. What could one helpless kid abandoned by the cosmos itself hope to do?

It was at that moment Keith decided he didn’t need hope. His dad had died helping people, and Keith would die doing the same thing. He wanted to avenge his planet, his dad, his home, his memories, even if he had to give up all of them to do it. Remembering would only tether him to the moment he lost it all. He didn’t have time for that. 

He forced himself to move, to crawl, to spite the world itself. The Blade of Marmora wanted to use him? Keith would use them right back to fuel the supernova of rage building in his chest. He would shed all the blood he needed to, enough to drown the stars themselves. He would destroy, maim, shatter and crush anything that got in his way. He would burn the sun itself even if it would only leave him with ashes.

It was enough. It had to be. It wasn’t like he had anything else.