#shiro is just a sweat boy

[sockdooe]

MORE VOLTRON CATS UPON YEE

[girlboypersonthingy]

omg i love your blog sm!! it’s been a while since ive been in the fandom and i didn’t think anyone wrote for vld anymore, ahhhh but i love the way you write!! you’re so so talented!! how do you think a love triangle sitch with keith and lance would play out? i love the both but UGHHHH THE DRAMA I LOVE IT😩😩

Oh my god thank you so much! I’m so flattered asfdafh 🥰🥹 I know the fandom is dead to most but not to all. I’m still here and voltron will always live on in my heart ❤️‍🔥 BRO THIS PROMPT??? PLZ ITS SO GOOD AAHHH ENJOY!

❤️Love Triangle💙

Okay first of all, these two would try to win you over IN COMPLETELY OPPOSITE WAYS.

Lance is, of course, over the top and very romantic and kind of cliche but so considerate and thoughtful and sweet.

Keith will be more nonchalant and mysterious, trying to use his skills and talents to impress you. He’s the type to slowly win you over by being very genuine and honest.

It started when Lance threw a pick up line your way and not only was the line terrible…but you actually laughed at it. It brought some pink to your cheeks as well. They both noticed that.

Lance was very smug about the fact that he made you giggle and blush.

Keith was a little annoyed at first, thinking Lance was just being his usual obnoxious self. So Keith just kept trying to make moves on you in his own way.

One day, Lance walked into the training room to see you and Keith sitting beside each other on the floor, breathing heavily as if you’d just decided to take a break. He couldn’t really hear what Keith was saying but you looked very focused, very into the conversation and you two were sitting just a little bit too close for his liking.

Lance didn’t like the eyes you were making at the red paladin

But Keith sure did. He was so excited to be sitting so close to you.

Then it’s like the spider man meme of them pointing at each other like 😧👉🏻 👈🏻😮

“Wait! You like (Y/N)? No no no, you can’t! I like (Y/N)!”

“Well I liked them first!”

“No! No! Dibs!”

“Really? Dibs?” *eye roll*

For the next week, they’re both acting like goofballs around you.

It’s kind of hilarious and very entertaining for you because…you notice that they start adopting each other’s ways of flirting and dropping hints. They do a little swap.

It’s like they think the other person has a better chance with you so they try to switch it up and copy each other. Lance thinks Keith’s ‘mysterious bad boy’ persona is something you’re into. Keith thinks you find happiness in all the silly, goofy things Lance does. So they both try to switch it up in hopes of making you fall for them. Does that make sense?

Imagine Keith trying to use a pick up line on you and failing miserably. He’s probably sweating through his shirt and his mouth is dry bc he’s so close to you, he can smell your shampoo. He’d end up stuttering and then getting really pissed at himself for looking dumb in front of you. May go back to his room and pout if he felt things didn’t go well.

Now imagine Lance trying to be all soft spoken and mysterious, trying to act cool. Lance trying not to talk too much is the equivalent of him holding his breath. It’s only a matter of time before he breaks character and says some dumb, cheesy shit that has you rolling your eyes. He awkwardly shuffles away to his room and also pouts bc he feels like he’s just loud and annoying.

The boys got into a yelling match about it once. The pot just boiled over and all you could do was watch.

That was their very shitty, joint confession of their feelings for you- them screaming about who likes you more, who liked you first, who you’re more compatible with, ect ect blah blah blah

All right in front of you

And all the while, the whole team is so confused

Cue Allura and Hunk stepping in between them because both their faces are turning red from anger and jealousy.

Everyone just looks at Shiro like 👀

Shiro, the dad of the group: 🙄😤 “fine…”

Shiro sits them both down for a long chat and by the end of it, the boys have come to terms with the fact that they both like you and not only is it your choice who you’d want to be with, but there’s a lot of other things to be worried about rn. They shouldn’t, and they won’t, pressure you.

Buuttttt…they do keep up some of the same things they like to do with you.

Keith still trains with you often (and he really enjoys helping you with your stance/posture bc he gets to be touchy✨)

Lance still invites you into his room to play video games (and he always seems out of breath when you sit so close to him, your arm touching his)

They try their best to control their temper around you and they try not to be around when you’re with the other person. They don’t need to see you being all close and personal with someone who isn’t them. :,(

The boys just continue to be their normal selves with you. They figure you should get to know them, the real them, before you make any decisions.

Yes, they both like you.

Yes. They’re both very competitive and very jealous.

But they respect each other and they respect you.

And we are in the middle of an intergalactic war right now, this is not a real priority.

They’ll give you some time and a pace to think about it.

Now comment on this post and tell me who you’d choose 😈 I love them both so so much but Lance is my soulmate for sure

[mosscreeper-ao3]

Flufftober Day 6: Mistaken identity-Keith & Shiro (Broganes)

Content warnings: illness, hurt/comfort

Summary: Shiro takes care of a sick Keith

Keith woke from an uneasy sleep, chilled and drenched in sweat from the fever. He’d fallen asleep in someone’s lap, and they were running the hand over his shoulder in comfort. Just like…

“Dad?” He sounded weak. Shiro brushed the raven hair out of the boy’s face. “No, buddy, just me,” he said. Keith curled in on himself. “Sorry.” “Don’t be,” Shiro corrected. “You haven’t eaten in a while, want me to make you some miso soup?” Keith nodded. Shiro’s never tasted quite the same as his dad’s, but it was still good. It had been such a long time since his legal guardian cared enough to comfort him when he was sick. Shiro had even canceled his classes for the day to look after him. Shiro came back from the kitchen with an oversized mug and pushed it into Keith’s hands before putting on Lilo and Stitch for them to watch.

[i23kazu]

— MUTUALS , YOU REMIND ME OF ! ( PART ONE )

@starglitterz you remind me of sleeping under the night sky :') the air is warm with the hum of cicadas.

@chichikoi you remind me of a love letter, with gojo doodles all over. hehehheheheehe.

@kazumist you remind me of walking into a gachapon store! :') there's excitement and also kind of a suspense because you really really want that neko keychain.

@kazucafe you remind me of a bunch of pretty wildflowers! yk, the ones that kazuha picked up for you on his walk.

@dawndelion-winery insanity /j . the thrill of willing a valorant game. and all the 'GG's that come after hehe.

@mccnstruck a sunny, cold day!! one of my ultimate favourite weathers :3 truly a W. sunny enough, but cold enough to not sweat, so everything is comfortable!

@faesther ou its you. you remind me of a shield. always, always a shield. as well as a dove! and xiao.

@haliyamori you. you remind me of a brand new watercolour set. hehe.

@oveloof hmmmmmm... dan heng. also chinese paper 2s HELPP but frfr you remind me of the happy feeling i get when i have enough space to download a game

@vennnnn-diagram HMMMM... lightning, and i'll always associate you with royal purple;;; and mcdonalds bc mcdonald joachim

@heiayen SUNFLOWERS. need i say more? and also hilarious japanese english dubs. ily dont kill me /lh

@tiredsleep kaeya. always and forever kaeya – more recently, gojo :') <3

@intothegenshinworld shiro!!! when i think of you, i think of the character shiro from voltron hehe. lovely to be around. also just. such a sweet person

@versadies YOU. i think of emoji reactions. particularly the fire and bangbang emojis.

@xiaoriae AUNI !!! you remind me of clouds! soft, pretty clouds that seem to watch and follow in your footsteps. hehe

@zhongrin MEIRINNNN. remind me of zhongli. always HAHAHHAA but also tea. you remind me of a cup of pu'er. something to share with your husband? ;)

@rintosei the freminet pfp HELP... that funni freminet pfp with the red cross over it. i hope u get him soon hehe. lovable diver boy with social anxiety. ok but fr, you remind me of bubblegum ice cream TuT

@ryuryuryuyurboat YOU. tulips. always. and a dorayaki. hehe. love u 2 bits kisses u mwah

@moonltwltz BABY !!!!! you remind me of soft pink bows... but with a black fishnet on top of them for your alt/grunge side of you hehe. love youuuuuuu with all my heart

@kyouko-writes hi dear!!! you remind me of lollipops ;)) something sweet and familiar.

@dustofthedailylife HI DUST !! you remind me of one of my favourite teachers previously. a sweet soul & kind human and just ??? so approachable ??? n e ways love u have a gr8 day

@mikacynth HAI MIKA you remind me of xiao and kaeya!!! and also a seashell. very pretty but i dont see you often (halp i think we r just missing each other on dash...) hope ur doing well!!

yayayyay part one is done! its something i've wanted to do for a while now;;;; hope yall like it HAHAHHA AND if you dont think thats you, tell me how you see yourself ;)

[the-kittens-of-vol-tron]

The most recent post you reblogged about Keith knowing Spanish would be so cool to see in writing if you are willing 💛

Ofc <3

Post found here! All credits go to @vldsideblog

A/N

I didn't write Spanish since I don't feel confident in my own Spanish skills to translate things properly. If anyone who knows Spanish better is interested in helping me translate I will edit this work/add more to it!

-----

Keith froze, ignoring how fast his heart was beating. How badly his lungs demanded air. He must have misheard Lance. There was no way he just said what he thought he said.

Lance stopped walking, turning slightly to look at where Keith was glued to. They were leaving the training deck, all of them at the point of exhaustion. "You good, Mullet?"

Keith met his eyes, finally allowing himself to take a strained breath. "What did you say?" He wheezed out.

Lance blinked at himself before sending him a mischievous smile. Repeating the words with confidence. The words fell off his tongue with ease. He walked out of the room, that smile still on his face.

Keith ran his hands through his sweat-damped hair. He wouldn't call himself fluent in Spanish. He could hold something that resembled a conversation when needed. He knew enough. Enough to get by. Enough to have basic conversations. Enough to understand what Lance said to him.

---

"Shiro." Keith entered the older man's room. Not even bother to knock.

Shiro's upper torse was propped up on his pillows as he read a book Pidge managed to translate into English. "Oh, sure you can come in Keith." Shiro's voice was neutral as he flipped to the next page. His energy was relaxed, winding down for the night.

Keith ignored Shiro's response and locked the door as soon as it closed. "Lance called me pretty."

Shiro's face remained staring at the pages, but his eyes were no longer reading the words. "...okay." His head tilted up some. "Just randomly?"

Keith nodded, his eyes looking everywhere but Shiro. "I don't think he wanted me to hear it."

"What makes you say that?" Shiro had resumed reading. Keith felt a sense of comfort over the informal side of Shiro. When he lived with Shiro and Adam, Shiro would always read before bed. Even if you were talking with him, he would remain reading. Listening but reading, as long as the topic wasn't serious.

"He said it in Spanish."

Shiro paused, his face scrunched up a bit in thought. He remained like that for half a minute before he leaned over and grabbed a small piece of paper from his desk. Marking his place in the book before sitting up. The topic was silently deemed serious, and Shiro patted the spot next to him on the bed.

Keith took the invitation and sat down next to him, waiting for Shiro's response.

"You're sure he called you pretty?"

Keith nodded his eyes on the floor by his shoes. "I had him repeat it just to make sure."

"And he said it in Spanish?"

Keith nodded again.

Shiro chuckled slightly, "so he assuming you don't know Spanish?"

"I guess so."

Shiro asked him a couple more questions. How he said it, the smile he wore on his face, anything to help determine if this was just a one-time thing or if the Blue Paladin was actually flirting with him.

Keith exited Shiro's room an hour later. They had determined an off-handed comment isn't enough to try and guess Lance's intentions. But Keith was going to keep listening for more.

---

He didn't have to wait long. The next day, as he and Lance headed back from the pool he caught the other boy staring at him. "What are you looking at?" Keith's hands instantly went up to touch his own face. Assuming something was on his face.

Lance rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he looked at something else. He mumbled something in Spanish under his breath. His voice held a snarky tone. But it was void of any true malice or mockery.

Keith rolled his eyes, trying to keep his breathing and composure under control. The words replayed in his mind the entire walk to his room. Your hair looks soft.

---

These comments became a daily occurrence. Always said as a "negative" thing or Lance trying to "poke the bear" as Hunk called it. Maybe if Keith had no understanding of Spanish he would be upset. His mind would be cycling over what Lance would be saying. He would be driving himself up a wall, unable to figure it out.

But Keith knew, growing up in Texas gave him the basics. Plus, Adam would use Spanish around the house, especially when he was talking to himself out loud through a problem or project. So Lance's "subtle" flirting wasn't having the effect he thought it was.

Keith had memorized every sentence. Every compliment, every word, he tattooed them onto his brain. Lance's voice was a constant echo in his mind.

You're so pretty.

Your hair looks soft.

What I wouldn't give to kiss you.

You have my heart.

You actually make a mullet look good.

I want you to be mine.

He never seemed to run out of compliments. It made sense why he stared at him more now. It wasn't because of the rivalry. It was never because of that.

Keith sighed, the only frustrating thing about this was neither of them seemed willing to make a move. Lance seemed content with keeping his advances and flirtatious remarks quiet. Reserved for himself. But if Keith ever responded or made an indication that he understood, how would Lance react? Would he be mad? Embarrassed?

Keith was already embarrassed. He missed his chance to clear the air the first couple of compliments. But that was weeks ago. If Keith said anything now- He shook his head. There was nothing he could do about it now.

Dinner went well, they were stopped on a planet for the alliance. Lance still made his comments, keeping up the façade of "rivalry" but Keith believed everyone could see through it.

"You all are welcome to join us and watch the sunset! It sets once every six months and it is truly spectacular." Their host said, their voice heightened with excitement. The paladins began to make their way to the viewing area, Keith and Lance sitting next to each other.

It was a spectacular sight, three suns began to set at once. These colors mix together. Sending a purplish haze over the planet. Keith was in awe over the sight, he nearly missed the words Lance mumbled next to him. Almost as pretty as you.

He took a deep breath, every fiber of his being begging him to react. Say something, do something. He was always content waiting but right now? He couldn't. He glanced at Lance who quickly pretended he was watching the sunset the entire time. Keith forced his voice out, Lance was never going to confess himself. Keith had to break the ice. "You're the pretty one." He was hardly above a whisper. Maybe he was scared. Maybe he didn't want to ruin the energy around them. Maybe he wanted the words to just be between them.

Lance looked at him, his eyes filled with anxiety and worry. He released an uncomfortable laugh as his brain slowly slid the pieces together. "You feeling okay there, Mullet?" He swallowed hard, sweat beading around his hairline.

Keith smiled, more to himself than the boy next to him having a crisis. "I thought you liked my mullet?"

Lance continued to stare at him, unmoving. Keith was concerned he stopped breathing for a moment before Lance laughed. His laughter echoed off the space around them, unaware of everyone's eyes on him. "You've been understanding me this entire time?!" He leaned forward some, placing his hands on Keith's shoulders.

"Yeah," Keith could feel his skin burn. Lance's hands felt cool against him, a perfect contrast to what he was feeling.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Lance cocked his head to the side in a puzzling manner.

Keith shrugged, "I didn't know what to say."

Lance groaned in frustration. "So you have just been letting me flirt with you for weeks? And didn't think to say anything?"

Keith nodded, his throat tightening a bit.

"Why?"

"I was...shy?"

Lance chuckled, a sound Keith was in love with. "You're kind of stupid, you know that?"

Keith scoffed, "I'm not stupid."

Lance smiled, "you're not. I apologize." His eyes fell to Keith's lips before shifting back up to his eyes. "I meant everything I said."

"I hoped you did. Since you were unaware I could understand you."

Lance chuckled again, "I shouldn't have assumed." The suns finally went down, casting night over them. Leaving the two of them in their own world, each of them leaning a bit closer.

-----

They def kissed lololol

I hope you liked it <33333

[rustycopper4use]

It’s Always Been You  Pt 6

(Kyoya x Male Reader)

Chapter six

-The Grade School Host Is The Naughty Type!-

 A young boy wanders the Ouran academy’s many hallways, he wasn’t the usual highschool student shown by his dark green elementary uniform.

He finally heads to a door, and anxiously opens the door. He gets greeted by a rush of rose petals, he stumbled and fell backwards.

“Welcome to the Ouran Host club!” 

 The host club is adorned in Arabian style clothing.

 “Oh it’s just a kid.” Hikaru spoked.

“Not only that, it’s just a boy.” Kaoru adds on.

 “What’s wrong little boy? Did you come into my palace in search of something?” He spoke, reeking of confidence, the jewelry scattered about his body, shining.

 The boy stands back up, looks at the blonde.

 “Uh.. are you the king of this place?” The boy asked. 

 Tamaki’s eyes briefly widened.

 “Well are you?” The boy repeated.

 “Come closer lost one,” Tamaki said, as the boy walked towards him.

  “What was it you just called me, little boy?” 

 “The king.” The boy responded.

 Tamaki sighs dramatically.

“Ah, the king! Yes I am the king of the Ouran Host Club!” He celebrates, twirling around starry eyed.

 “I’m an elementary fifth year, Shiro Takaoji!” The boy states, causing Tamaki to stop.

 “I want the host club king to take me on as an apprentice!” He spoke, pointed at a shocked Tamaki.

The host club is now officially opened, filled with guests.

 “Oh my Tamaki, you have an apprentice?” A girl questioned.

 “Yes, he’s still in elementary school, but I like the fire in his eyes.”  Tamaki calmly spoke.

 “But are you sure it’s really okay for a young boy to become a host?” A girl worries.

 “Why wouldn’t it be? Love has nothing to do with age. Take us for an instance, whenever I look at you, my heart starts pounding,” He leaned closer to the guests face.

 “Suddenly, I feel no different than a love-sick little boy.”

 “Oh, Tamaki..” the girl dreamily sighed.

 The boy is right next to the two and glaring intently.

“Don’t you think it’s weird he’s making a kid observe him close up like that?” Haruhi question.

 “It’s not the weirdest thing Tamaki has done.” Y/n shrugged.

 “There is a theory that people are considered more beautiful the closer they’re viewed. Tamaki seems to live by that theory.” Kyoya spoked, writing in his notebook.

 “Well, let’s leave them alone.”

A cry runs across the room.

 “A carp!” One of Tamaki's guests shirks. 

 “Oh, don’t listen to him, he’s just a kid. You know how kids are, they can’t help but be honest.” Tamaki anxiously spoke.

 “Honest!” The girl yells even more hurt at Tamaki’s idiocy.

 “But that’s just his opinion! I wouldn’t say you looked like a carp, and even if you were you’d be the most beautiful carp of them all.” Tamaki spoke, digging his grave deeper.

 “So I am a carp!” The girl cried.

“That’s not what I meant..” Tamaki sweats.

 The girl runs off crying, calling Tamaki an idiot.

The boy rolls his eyes at the girl and sits down.

 “Man what a crybaby.”

Hikaru walks over to the irritated blonde.

 “So how’s it going boss? That’s an adorable little apprentice you got there.” He teased.

 “Hikaru.. Do you wish you had a younger brother like Shiro.” Kaoru quietly mumbles.

 Hikaru embraced his twin.

 “Don’t be silly. I could search the globe and I’d never find a better brother than you, Kaoru.” 

“Hikaru..”

The girls squealed, at the display.

 “It’s forbidden brotherly love!”

Shiro backs up in disgust.

 “They’re homos! And they’re brothers! That makes this totally insectuous!” As he backs up

 “You mean incestuous” Tamaki corrects.

 Honey pulls the boy to the side and jumps on his back.

 “Hey Shiro-chan! Wanna have a piece of cake with me? We got all kinds!” 

 Shiro pushes honey off, and turns to look at him.

 “Hey back off! What grade are you even in anyways? And why are you wearing a highschool uniform?” Shiro spoked.

 Mori walks to Honey, towering over Shiro. 

“Something wrong Mitsukuni?” He quietly spoked.

 “That’s not fair! A little kid like you isn’t supposed to have a cooler older friend like him!” Shiro yells, and ends up bumping into Y/n and Haruhi, who is holding a tray of teacups.

“Are you alright? I know it’s kinda hard getting used to all the weird stuff that goes around here, it took me a while to adjust to the craziness, so don’t freak out, I’m sure you’ll get used to it.” Haruhi kindly smiled.

 But the boy only stared intensely at the two.

 Y/n furrows his brows and tilts his head.

 “Something wrong?” Y/n looked at the boy.

 “Are you a crossdresser?” He rudely asked.

 “Excuse me?” Y/n, baffled at the boy's manners.

 The twins and Tamaki rush in trying to conceal Haruhi’s secret.

 “Okay that’s enough, I think Shiro should take care of the tea for us! Don’t you?” Tamaki nervously spoke.

 Hikaru begins to pat Haruhi’s head. 

 “Wow Haruhi you’re looking extra manly today.”

 Kaoru also begins patting Haruhi’s head.

 “Now do what the boss says and let Shiro take care of that tea set, it’s part of his training. You're too macho for tea sets.”  

 Haruhi signs and hands the tray towards the boy. 

 “Now be pretty careful with it, it’s quite heavy.” As the tray gets handed to Shiro, he immediately drops it, shattering every single cup.

 “It’s not my fault I dropped it. It’s yours because you’re the one to make me take it in the first place.” Shiro spoke with the utmost entitlement .

 “Say what?” Haruhi mumbled.

“Haruhi, that’s another one hundred thousand yen.” Kyoya appears, writing in his notebook.

 “Huh?!” Haruhi yells.

“Hey you should make the crossdresser do your stupid chores! I’m not here to carry tea sets! I'm here to learn how to make women happy!” Shiro complained.

 “I am not going to let you disrespect Haruhi. Put this brat in isolation!” Tamaki commands.

 “You got it boss!” The twins pull a switch, and a metal cage falls and traps the boy inside.

“What’s going on here! Why’d you put me in a cage all of a sudden?” Shiro screams.

 “Yeah and where did it come from? This is supposed to be a music room, right?” Haruhi nervously sweats

 “What can I say, he had it coming.” Y/n joked.

 Shiro hangs onto the bars.

“This is no way to treat your loyal apprentice! Now let me outta this cage!”  He fussed, shaking the bars.

 Tamaki calmly sips on tea. 

“Not until you’ve learned your lesson. I made You my apprentice because I thought you were serious about becoming a host, but I guess I was wrong.” Tamaki sighed, glancing at the boy.

 “I am serious! Totally serious!” The boy yells

Tamaki sips on his tea, ignoring the kid's pleas.

 “I want you to teach me how to make women happy!” He falls on his knees. 

 “I’m gonna run out of time… Please won’t you teach me? You’re a host because you like girls. You like bringing a smile to a girl's face. That’s why you do it right? Please won’t you teach me to be like you? You're a genius at it. You’re the king!” Shiro pleads.

 Tamaki’s eyes widened at the compliment.

 “Well you may be a brat but I admire your desire to become a host, so I’ll teach you!” He exclaimed, now standing up.

 “You know Shiro, you and I are so much alike.” Tamaki hugs himself.

“Your poor kid.” Haruhi muttered.

 “You might want to aim higher, Shiro.” Y/n snickers.

“Then you’ll help me become the kind of man that can make any woman happy?” Shiro looked at Tamaki hopefully.

 “Of course, making women happy is the purpose of being a host. If this is what you really want, Shiro, then you’ll have to figure out how to use the material you already have.” Tamaki explained.

 “What does that mean?” Shiro asked.

“You see, here at the Ouran Host Club our policy is to use our individual personality traits to meet the needs of the guest.” Kyoya looks at the boy.

 “For example there is Tamaki, who is the princely type. There’s the silent type. The Boy-Lolita type. The Little-Devil. The Space Cadet. And the cool type.” Kyoya lists, as everyone groups together in front of Shiro.

 “It’s all about variety. And now our group is complete with the addition of Haruhi, the natural.”

 “The natural?” Haruhi points to herself.

“It would seem right now we have a perfect blend of characteristics. So it’s going to be difficult to find a new type for Shiro.” Kyoya continues.

“If you go by age, he should be the boy Lolita type.” Hikaru states.

 “But Honey-senpai already got that covered.” Kaoru joins

Honey bursts into tears, and hugs usa-chan. 

 “Is he gonna replace me?”

A motor goes off, and gears grind against each other, revealing Renge on the platform.

 “Oh come on, is that all you’ve got?” Renge's voice echoes across the room.

 “What’s up with this place? It’s supposed to be a music room!” Haruhi complained.

Renge sighs at the group.

 “Sorry to interrupt, gentleman but what’s with the lackluster character analysis? I must say I’m quite disappointed, I thought I taught you better.” 

 “Alright then Miss manger, how would you work Shiro into our collection of characters? He can’t be the boy Lolita because Honey has already got that covered.” Tamaki holds up a crying honey, similar to how you would hold a cat.

 “You just don’t get it do you? Now listen up! There are plenty of girls out there who have a thing for younger boys or boys with baby faces. These would be called Shota fans. Now Shota can be a fairly broad category. So it’s important to know that the genre can be broken down into many smaller sub-categories. For example, Shota fans, with an interest in Lolita boys, would favor a boy like Haninozuka-senpai, but this boy is different if I had to pick a character for him…” 

 Renge thinks for a moment before pointing at Shiro.

 “Yes! He’s the Naughty Boy Type without a doubt!” She confirmed.

 “The Naughty Type?” Shiro questions as the cage surrounding him lifts up.

Training drills begin, with Renge blowing a whistle for every drill, and Shiro's patience grows thinner by the minute, he’s now covered in fake sharpie scars and bandages.

 And before his torture to go any farther, he finally had enough.

 “Agh! I’ve had enough of you people! This is so stupid, none of this is gonna make her happy.” Shiro gritted his teeth and ran out the club's doors.

“Wait Shiro, we haven't taught you how to apply the techniques you’ve learned yet!” Tamaki yells.

 Renge’s motor turns on as she takes back down.

 “I swear, younger boys are good for nothing, I went through all of the trouble of training him and he calls it quits!” She complains before disappearing.

“I can’t believe he just ditched us just because he didn’t like the lesson. What a selfish little brat!” He complains.

 “There aren’t many people who would like that sort of lesson. But never mind that, did you hear what he just said?” Haruhi states.

‘I’m gonna run out of time. Please won’t you teach me?’

 “What do you think it means by that… maybe it’s a girl?” Haruhi spoke, thinking out loud.

A few hours pass and the host club is now in an elementary-Middle school building.

 “How did we let them talk us into this?” Haruhi questioned. Now wearing a middle school uniform and a long brown wig.

 “It’ll be okay Haru-chan, it was so easy to sneak in, and wearing this uniform makes me really look like I’m in elementary school.” Honey whispered. He was now wearing the same uniform as Chiro.

 “Yeah you do.. I can understand why they wanted you to wear an elementary school uniform, I mean we are sneaking into an elementary school and you totally fit in senpai. What I don’t understand is why they made me dress up in a middle school uniform.”

“Why did we even bother with disguises, we stick out like a sore thumb.” Haruhi complained, as Tamaki peered through a door.

 “Oh there’s a reason, a damn good reason.”

 Honey pulls Haruhi by the hand.

“This way Haru-chan!”

 “Isn’t she just the cutest!” The twins swoon.

 Tamaki sighs dreamily.

“Oh look at her in that mini skirt!” Tamaki slightly blushes.

“Haruhi looks like a wittle doll.” 

“So basically you just wanted to see her dress up like that?” Kyoya states.

 Y/n laughs, as Tamaki sweats.

As Haruhi and Honey open a classroom, the rest of the club follows.

 “So the kid's empty classroom is it?” Tamaki spoke while looking around. 

 “This sure takes me back.” The twins state.

 “I wonder if the doodles are still on my desk.” Hikaru looks at the top of the desks.

“Doubtful, the school changes out the desks every year.” Kyoya spoke.

 Haruhi is irritated by the group.

“Let’s check out the cafeteria after this.”

“I want to see the old gym.” 

“Hey, if you guys are just gonna barge in here like that then why’d we wear these stupid disguises.” Haruhi half whispered.

“Don’t worry about it, no one is going to catch us.” Hikaru looks towards Haruhi.

 Footsteps echoed throughout the hall, getting closer each step.

Haruhi gasps and the rest of the club crouches between the desks.

 “If the teacher find us-“ 

“We’re gonna have a hard time explaining why we snuck in.” The twins spoke.

Haruhi puts her finger to her lips and shushes.

“Shut up you guys! Just keep your lips zipped.” She makes a zipping gesture.

  The twins, and Tamaki blushed.

Haruhi discretely looks out the door.

 “It’s alright, he’s gone but if you guys we came here to get the scoop on Shiro.” She reminded the group, now standing.

 “So what do you think we should do now?”

Kyoya stared at a framed photo hung on the wall.

 “Well here is something interesting.”

 All the hosts look over to kyoya.

Y/n walked towards him.

“What did you find?” 

Kyoya points towards the photo, in it was Shiro and a girl playing piano.

 “Oh hey that’s Shiro.” Y/n looked.

“So he’s in the classical music club.” Kyoya states with a knowing smile.

 “He looks like he’s enjoying himself. Never thought I could see him this happy.” Y/n softly smiled.

The club's hosts make their way to the music room.

“There he is! There’s Shiro-chan!” Honey spoked excitedly.

 Shiro was sitting in a window sill, looking out the window.

A young girl walks up to Shiro holding a music sheet.

 “Excuse me… Takaoji? I’m sorry, but have you been practicing tye new piece Teacher gave us?” She stammered, hugging the sheet to her chest.

 “The new piece? Not really.” Shiro answered, looking at the girl. 

 “If you want I can show it to you. Do you want to come play it with me?” She hopefully asked.

 “No thanks, you go ahead. After all there’s only one grand piano. You should use it Kamishiro.”

Hina smiled.

“Thank you, I will then!” She closes her eyes.

 “And if you want to join me, just let me know.” She giggles slightly, and sits down at the piano, and begins playing.

 Shiro closes his eyes and listens to Hina’s playing.

A little girl walks out the music room.

“Pardon me mademoiselle.” Tamaki politely spoke. And the girl turns to look at him, as he offers a white rose.

 “I’ve never seen a rose more lovely than you my dear.. here.” Tamaki hands the rose to the girl.

 “I was wondering if you could tell me anything about the lady playing piano there?” 

“That’s Hina Kamishiro, but you better now fall in love with her.” The girl states.

 “Why?” Tamaki asked.

 “Didn’t you know? Hina has to move soon. Her dad just got a new job in Germany. They will move there by the end of the week.” 

Shiro rushed out of the room noticing the club.

 “What'd you think you’re doing?! I want you idiots to leave!” He yelled.

Tamaki looks at him before picking him up and throwing him over his shoulder. And walks away with the host following.

 Shiro screams and hits Tamaki, trying to leave his grasp.

 “It’s time to go gentlemen!” He announced.

 “First we put him in a cage and now we are kidnapping him. I think we hit a new low.” Y/n causally spoke, following the club.

Shiro gets placed back in the host club, as Tamaki scolds the boy, he pulls back a curtain revealing a piano.

 “Wait a minute… since when did we have a piano?” Haruhi muttered.

 “It’s a music room, why wouldn’t there be a piano?” Y/n smirked.

 The rest of the club chimes in agreement.

The host room is quickly decorated, with a piano in the middle of the room, and when Hina arrived, she’s greeted by the hosts dressed in all white suits, and Tamaki pulls an empty chair for the piano

 “If you please, princess.” Tamaki spoke.

Shiro, and Hina play the piano, finally finding his own way to her heart.

“It’s really incredible how Tamaki puts his entire heart into helping people.” Y/n calmly whispered only for Kyoya to hear, watching the two play piano.

 Kyoya looks at Y/n who is mesmerized by piano.

He smiled 

“It truly is.”

[itsuki-minamy]

"K - RETURN OF KINGS" (Novel)

CHAPTER 5: CONNECTIONS

* List of Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

XX slowled raise her head.

It was a family room. There was a table, a dresser, and a TV. The aluminum sheet next to her was open, and soft sunlight streamed in from the porch.

It was the house of XX.

After blinking several times, XX looked around. Neither mother nor father. Did they go shopping or work? Even when she called out to them, the only response was silence, which only increased XX's loneliness.

At that moment, a voice shouted.

She looked to the side. Before she knew it, a cat was sitting on the sunny porch.

What was that cat called? Of course, yes.

"Tamagoro!"

A hoarse voice came from nearby.

XX turned to the direction of the voice in surprise, and then.

She got goosebumps all over her body.

There was a small altar in front of her.

It shouldn't have happened until now.

The altar looked like it hadn't been maintained in a long time. The flowers in the vase had dried up and not even the ashes were left in the incense holder. The dark and gloomy door closed tightly, but slowly, it was about to open.

She didn't want to see.

She shouldn't look.

Although she knew that, her body did not move. The door would open by itself. XX remained rigid, imprinting that movement on her dry eyeballs.

Two portraits of the deceased were enshrined on the altar.

One showed a white-haired boy smiling kindly.

One showed a grumpy, dark-haired boy.

Her heart began to pound.

Help.

XX just wanted that. She needed help. At that time, she just wanted to escape from that place.

XX twisted her neck with all her strength and turned to the side. To ask for help from the only existence that was not her, Tamagoro lying on the porch. Then she turned her eyes.

Tamagoro was not there.

A parrot with green feathers was perched.

XX widened her eyes, the parrot opened its mouth and clearly called out her name.

"Ameno Miyabi."

And Neko jumped.

She opened her eyes as wide as she could. Her body was wet with a cold sweat. She held tight to her heart that was beating like a bell from the top of her nightwear.

Neko tried to forget the dream, but she couldn't.

That name, that scene. She was stuck in her head and wouldn't let go. The dream seemed to merge with reality and spread right next to the bed. It took tremendous courage to confirm it.

When she looked to the side, Shiro was sleeping peacefully.

A relief that made her want to cry spread through Neko.

With that feeling, Neko buried her face in Shiro's chest. She could hear Shiro's sleepy voice.

"Neko...? What's wrong...?"

Neko didn't respond to that sleepy voice, instead she just shook her head. She was afraid to even tell him that she had a scary dream. As soon as she uttered it, it would come true that she couldn't help but feel like she was being attacked.

Unable to sleep or close her eyes, Neko clung to Shiro, trembling until morning.

++++++++++

Seeing the "Jungle" Clansman jump out of the alley on the right, Andy Domyoji smiled and grabbed the hilt of his saber.

"Domyoji, ready!"

The lock was released by voice recognition and the saber was drawn at the same time he began to run. Noticing the approaching white blade, the green masked clansman flinched. However, as expected of a mid-range, he immediately turned his PDA towards them and displayed an interception stance.

Domyoji's smile turned fierce, and a voice of fighting spirit spilled from his throat.

"Oyaaaaaaaaaa!"

Leaping to dodge the electrical discharge emitted from the PDA, he quickly approached the shaken clansman and struck him on the side of the head with the hilt of his saber.

After tying up the unconscious clansman, Domyoji let out a triumphant cry over the radio.

"Ok, one step up."

But what he returned was a warning.

"Domyoji! Behind you!"

"Huh? Gah!"

A group of green masks that seem to be friends were emerging from the alley. With murderous intent clearly visible through their masks, they pointed their weapons at Domyoji.

"Grrrroooaaahh!"

Furthermore, they were all knocked down at once by the giant that broke through.

Rikio Kamamoto, the leader of "Homura". With a massive body of over 100 kilograms and a red aura, he looks like an advancing heavy tank. After being run over by Kamamoto, the green masks flew through the air and rolled on the ground before being captured by the "Homura" clansmen who had been waiting for them.

"Ok, we caught the shit!"

"Give me the rope!"

Raising an animated voice, they skillfully placed the power suppression tools on the green masks. Taking a deep breath, Domyoji looked around.

The number of green masks in the report was six. They all seemed to have been caught.

Domyoji put down his saber and saluted Kamamoto.

"Thanks for your help!"

Kamamoto turned around and gave a thumbs up with a pleasant smile.

"Oh! You are welcome!"

Domyoji laughed and thought, "What the hell are these good guys?"

He had never collaborated with one of the "Homura" clansmen, but when he put together a united front like that, he got along well with Domyoji. Well, Domyoji is in the free-spirited category of "Scepter 4", so it's only natural that he would have a strong affinity with "Homura".

Then, Benzai and Kamo rushed up from behind.

"Domyoji, you stand out too much on your own!"

Domyoji waved his hand to the side of his face.

"Yes, the red guys were blocking the front. They're resourceful, so if you play with the green ones and spread them around, they'll take care of the rest."

"Not bad tactically, but relying too much on other clans..."

Domyoji chuckled slightly at Benzai, who was still scolding him.

"Benzai is not feeling well."

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"No, don't worry about it, we are talking about this."

Domyoji thought that Benzai, along with Akiyama, is a "Scepter 4" duo type. At best he is honest, at worst he is stubborn. This joint front is also following the rules, but they can't seem to move well because they lack flexibility.

"Akiyama, turn the transport vehicle around. Oh, we've secured them all."

Kamo, who finished contacting the escort team, joined the conversation.

"His illegal networks follow secondary routes that we often overlook. We were able to control this matter on the first try. Even if you thank him, you will be punished."

"Kamo is right. He is realistic."

"So what are you talking about...?"

Kamo had a questioning expression on his face and Benzai accepted the words, albeit bitterly.

"It is true that our security shifts have improved significantly."

"If you try it, it'll work surprisingly well. I'm thankful I had more hands. Thanks to that, I can take a shower."

"Well, that is..."

Benzai smiled wryly at Domyoji, who crossed his arms and nodded.

At that moment, a transport vehicle turned the corner of the street.

Akiyama's subordinates are driving.

And sitting in the passenger seat is Saruhiko Fushimi.

"Oh...", Domyoji thought and pretended not to see it. Just imagining how Fushimi, who originally belonged to "Homura", thinks about the current situation, makes him cringe. Domyoji tried to leave the place to avoid getting involved as much as possible.

And, he threw a juice at him, and Domyoji reflexively received it. The one who gave it to him was the "Homura" member, Kamamoto. He smiled and lifted his own juice.

"Good job. That's a gift."

"Oh, thanks."

As he said thank you, Domyoji couldn't help but worry about the passenger seat of the transport vehicle. As he tried not to look in that direction, Kamamoto and Akiyama got out of the car and started a meeting.

"Can I get in that car?"

"Oh, please."

The "Homura" members began to load the restrained "Jungle" clansmen in the back seat. He thought he heard the click of his tongue, but Domyoji drank the juice and pretended not to hear it.

++++++++++

It was Usagi who asked him to clean Kokujoji's belongings.

He is an old rabbit that Shiro knows well. He doesn't know exactly what kind of chain of command "Tokijikuin" has, but from the fact that he served Kokujoji until the last moment, he was probably the "King's" closest vassal.

At first, Shiro was confused by his offer.

He certainly was an ally of Kokujoji. But that was nearly 70 years ago, and he hadn't even heard his voice since he fled into the sky. If Kokujoji's memory is accepted, there must be someone more suitable than him.

"There was no such person before you."

The answer weighed heavily on Shiro's back.

Has the lieutenant lived his entire life without making family, friends, or close friends?

After a moment, Shiro nodded.

The old rabbit didn't say anything, just bowed deeply.

It was a well-appointed room.

Tatami mats and shoji screens, Japanese sliding doors and chests of drawers, hanging scrolls and Japanese swords in the alcove. It's been a long time since people lived here, but not a single piece of dust has fallen on the tatami mats. This is probably proof of how much the owner of this room has been revered.

"This is the first time I've come to the lieutenant's room."

There was no longer anyone to respond to the fallen words.

Still, Shiro could feel his presence in the room. It was as if he could imagine how Kokujoji had lived in that place.

"You've been here alone..."

The room was too plain for a man of power who had led that country out of the quagmire of defeat. Perhaps Kokujoji wasn't allowed the luxury of private time. Control others, discipline yourself and continue to support a nation. To accomplish such a feat, he must have given up the worldly happiness of him as a human being.

But among them, there is only one. There was something that showed Kokujoji's humanity.

A photograph leaning against a Japanese chest of drawers.

There are three people in the image. Daikaku Kokujoji and Adolf K. Weismann straightened up. And...

"Lieutenant. My sister prepared something amazing like this."

The papers in Shiro's hands were as old as the photographs. The last person in the photo made it. Claudia Weismann, co-investigator of the "Dresden Slate" and his older sister.

"Many years after we parted ways, it was exhumed from a bunker next to the lab. Kusanagi-san found it when it was donated to the library in a box and left there for a long time without knowing what it was. Look, that Library Officer Red General Staff."

Stroking the surface of the document, Shiro narrowed his eyes. Handwriting, the habit of writing, scribbling here and there brought Isana Yashiro back to when he was Adolf K. Weismann.

The smell of the wind blowing through the majestic streets of Dresden. Voices of people talking and laughing in a familiar language. A strange-tasting homemade dish brought in between studies. Memories of the bright days that had passed half a century ago floated in Adolf's mind, and then disappeared.

"It seems my sister was able to see through it all. The lieutenant went straight to make his dreams come true, and I was lost in front of my inflated dreams, all..."

While he was flipping through the documents and saying that, something slipped across the space. He bent down and picked it up.

It was also a photograph.

It's the same composition as the photo hanging on the Japanese dresser, but it was taken right after. Even though more than half a century has passed, he still remembers that time vividly.

It was Claudia who suggested taking another photo. This time, she put the mouse used in the experiment on Kokujoji's head, saying that that boy should be with them. Kokujoji was taken aback by his sister's jokes, and Adolf saw this and laughed.

A time that will never return, but that certainly existed.

Shiro read the scribbles written in the corner of the photo.

"Irren ist menschlich." (To err is human.)

Mistakes are human nature. Forgiveness is the work of God.

With a pop, he felt a light pat on his back.

He looked back without wanting to. There was no one there, of course. There was only Adolf K. Weismann Isana Yashiro, and his sister or his friend was not there.

Shiro closed his eyes silently.

God is in heaven. The only thing he could do when he went down to the ground is face his mistakes. Because even if he doesn't get forgiveness, he can't move on without it.

He opened his eyes. He took the photo frame and attached it to a small box.

The memory of the mistake was also an irreplaceable memory. He was sure that it would be a light to go on.

When he left the room, Neko jumped towards him as if to say that she was waiting for him.

"Shiro!"

With a wry smile, he huged and caress her with one hand. Shiro thought lightly that the reason why Neko had become so spoiled these days was probably the effect of his long absence.

Kuro, who was taking care of him outside, asked him with a mysterious expression.

"You're done?"

"Yes. Even though it was called organizing belongings, there were hardly any personal belongings."

Kokujoji's relics were gathered in a box that he could carry under his arm. That was all Kokujoji had. Grasping that meaning, Kuro lowered his eyes with a mournful expression.

And suddenly Kuro put his hand on the hilt of his sword and Neko stiffened.

Before he knew it, almost 10 rabbits had appeared in the courtyard in front of the private room of Kokujoji.

All of them wore rabbit masks and black clothes. The figure that was destroyed seemed to embody Kokujoji's ideals.

With a look on his face, Shiro let go of Kuro and Neko's guard and spoke to the old rabbit that appeared in the hallway.

"The lieutenant's order was to cooperate with me until I came back down to the ground, but I asked you to extend it longer."

"Useless words. You are my king's friend."

Old rabbits wore their sleeves pushed together in front. After that, all the rabbits in the yard bowed at once.

"According to my king's will, the Golden Clan "Tokijikuin" will only be involved in the preservation of the current system from now on. We will stop actively getting involved in the situation. With your permission."

As "Silver King", Shiro said:

"Forgive me."

And as Kokujoji's friend, Shiro said:

"About Daikaku Kokujoji... Thank you for everything."

"...Ha."

Both sleeves trembled slightly. Looking at him, Shiro felt a little relieved.

Daikaku Kokujoji may not have had anyone close to him. His family, his friends, but certainly there were those who cared for him.

"Still, it's 'Tokijikuin'. As rumored, it's a formidable clan."

After leaving Mihashira Tower and walking down the street, Kuro said something like that.

"Is that so? Well, it's hard to get along at first sight, but if you talk to them, they're good-natured people, aren't they?"

"It's not about looks or personality. It's about skill."

Kuro said embarrassed.

"Mihashira Tower is a dependent territory of "Tokijikuin". I should have known they were there, but they appeared without any sign, so I inadvertently became wary. Now that I think about it, it was disrespectful."

"Yes, yes! I was surprised too!"

Neko nodded and Shiro smiled wryly.

"The "Tokijikuin" clan has been running this country for a long time. The number of people and the thickness of the ranks are incomparable with other clans. Those people are also stationed in the Mihashira Tower, so I think they must be quite influential."

However, it is said that even these people were unable to stop Mishakuji Yukari alone in the Mihashira Tower Attack Incident. Partly it was because the "Golden King" was weak, but more than that, it was because Mishakuji was that powerful.

As he walked, Kuro crossed his arms in annoyance.

"It's a bit harsh that we can't rely on the Golden Clan as a fighting force even though the battle against "Jungle" is about to intensify..."

"They are not a simple combat unit. They are the control system of the 'Slate' that controls the key points of this country. We cannot afford to lose them by running carelessly. The lieutenant knew that too, so he put the condition of to wait until I got down to the ground."

On the side of the street, "Scepter 4" personnel are stationed to guard Mihashira Tower. Kuro looked at them sideways and said with a frown.

"Hm, so... Is that the "Blue King" who is running the "Slate" now?"

That sentence clicked with a nuance. Shiro scoffed.

"What, are you still holding on to the fact that you were bullied before?"

"No!"

"Nyahahahaha! Kurosuke was criticized!"

"Well, it's not that kind of private feeling, it's more…"

"You got hit by that guy who almost killed you, so isn't Kurosuke really weak?"

"Neko! You!"

Enraged, Kuro approached Neko, who jumped and dodged. When the two started chasing each other around Shiro, the "Scepter 4" clansmen looked at them wondering what was going on. Shiro entered the arbitration, greeting them with a friendly smile.

"Well. Munakata-san can't help it, because he is a "King". Rather, I admire the courage you had to challenge him."

"Hmm..."

Hearing Shiro's words of praise lightly, Kuro made an expression that wasn't bad.

"As for Mishakuji Yukari, I want you to work a little harder."

"Guh..."

Hearing Shiro's reproachful words, Kuro closed his eyes in frustration and lowered his head.

"I know... I'm not as good as him... But still, in order to beat him, I will train every day with the spirit of devotion and diligence."

"No, Kuro? You're kidding, aren't you? Don't worry too much about it. You weren't doing your best back then."

"Idiot! How can you beat him with such a spoiled idea! Mishakuji Yukari is a traitor who pointed his sword at Ichigen-sama, and my mission as a servant is to defeat him."

"Oh, that's too much trouble. Say something to him, Neko."

Shiro made that comment to Neko and noticed that she was terribly quiet.

"Neko? What's up?"

A while ago, Neko should have been rolling with laughter, but she had a completely different expression. A look of fear, anxiety, and impatience that he had never seen before. As she clung to Shiro's arm, Neko was staring at one point.

"...Over there. Just now, someone was watching."

"Over there?"

In front of Neko's gaze, there was nothing but a nondescript street tree. Shiro patted Neko on her back, trying to reassure her.

"There's no one there. It's okay."

"Yes. He was looking. Absolutely, about Wagahai..."

Saying that in a low voice, Neko buried her face in Shiro's arm. Seeing that unusual situation, Shiro and Kuro exchanged glances and bowed their heads.

++++++++++

Prime Minister Samukawa Kanichi.

That's his title. As a representative of the Cabinet, which is the executive branch, he is the most important civilian. He is the top of Japan, and the direction of this country depends only on his will.

At least, that is what it seems.

That is not really so, it was just a "presumption" among those who held a certain position. There are other supreme powers. Those who have even greater power than the chief elected by the people. Political tasks that they use conveniently, that was the reality of the Prime Minister.

Samukawa never felt dissatisfied with it. Originally, he was a self-protective person, and the position of Prime Minister became the result of sticking to the "shadow of the big tree". This is Samukawa's true nature, and this is why he became a politician.

But even so, the current situation was frustrating for Samukawa.

Official residence of the prime minister, office. Originally, it could be called the most important place in this country. Everyone but Samukawa must be nervous, considerate, and humble in this place.

Despite that, the man puffed out his chest arrogantly and acted as if he owned the room.

Reisi Munakata, Head of the Fourth Branch of the Family Registration Division, Tokyo Legal Affairs Office.

Officially, he is just an official. As the Prime Minister, it is incomparable to him, and it is an existence that can be blown up.

All that changes when you put the premise. Munakata will become an entity called "King", and Samukawa will become nothing more than a political institution.

"As explained above, we, "Scepter 4", have officially assumed the authority to manage Mihashira Tower and "Dresden Slate". A notice will come from the Golden Clan soon."

"With Gozen gone, are you literally pretending to be a king?"

The sarcastic way of speaking is a far cry from Samukawa's usual. Putting emotions behind a smile is the basis of politicians. He hasn't been able to do that. Even Samukawa took offense as he gave a sly smile at a youth who was much younger than him.

However, Munakata seemed to pay no attention to Samukawa's irritation.

"I'm not pretentious. I'm the "King" defined by the "Slate"."

Samukawa's temples twitched. He thought about how to teach the rude youth about his position, but in the meantime, Munakata dropped a bombshell.

"Therefore, we will also transfer the priority of the orders to each national institution held by the Golden Clan."

Samukawa's eyes widened and his hips began to float.

"No, impossible! Just when..."

"Just when you took the weight off of yourself?"

After noting the point, Samukawa fell silent.

The "Golden King", Kokujoji Daikaku, is a distinguished man who has rebuilt this country. No one in the world of politics or business can match him in terms of status, honor, or power. He is truly a political giant, and it is precisely his intention that an existence like the "King" can do as it pleases.

It was about two months ago that rumors began to circulate that Kokujoji was dead.

Of course, rumors are just rumors. No one had confirmation. However, in reality, Kokujoji no longer appears on the surface, and the rabbits' contact is nothing more than maintaining the system. It was clear that Kokujoji was in a situation where he couldn't give orders.

"King" is a high-ranking existence of politicians. That is the premise.

And finally the time had come to tear down that "premise" that had been hanging over their heads for a long time after the war. It was time for them, who were elected by the people, to recover their legitimate rights.

Even though he had such expectations.

Seeing Samukawa's agitation, Munakata smiled. It wasn't a smirk. It's a warm smile that tells a child, "You don't have to be ambitious if you don't know where you are."

"Don't worry, Prime Minister. We have no intention of influencing the fortunes of the nation with our own selfish desires."

Samukawa stopped breathing and Munakata continued calmly.

"At the moment, we are only asking for smooth cooperation from all quarters towards the confrontation with the Green Clan that threatens the peace of the world."

"You assume the right to give orders, please."

"The way a base has is what is called order. I kindly ask for your cooperation as the Prime Minister."

Samukawa clenched his teeth to keep from making noise.

Evidenced form, that is, system.

The current Samukawa couldn't reverse that.

The system continues to function even after the death of the founder. "Tokijikuin", properly operated by those pesky rabbits, is still in effect. If the youth in front of them demand the transfer of power according to the system, they have no choice but to respond.

"In short, are you telling me to follow you?"

"If you put it that way, yes."

Samukawa closed his eyes for a moment at Munakata's simple answer.

The next time he opened his eyes, there was a smile on his face.

"I see! If that's the case, I'll give you my full cooperation, Munakata-kun!"

Munakata's expression didn't change, but the attendant behind him was startled. Samukawa's sudden change was so splendid.

"I will notify every ministry and agency through the Chief Cabinet Secretary. Let's do our best to ensure that your "Scepter 4" can operate without delay. That must be the testament that Gozen left behind!"

"Then so shall it be."

When Munakata spoke, he felt his eyes shake again, but this time he was able to contain himself. He had experienced that kind of humiliation and bitterness countless times in his life as a politician. Survival was far more important than that pride.

He did not nullify the premise.

Not now.

The change is already happening. If "Scepter 4" really has the same power as "Tokijikuin"... Is it long term? When looking while taking a co-op system, there will be something that can be seen.

It is precisely when we determine that, that it is time to act.

"Anyway, I was wondering what would happen if Gozen disappeared, but if Munakata-kun puts it all together, I'm relieved! Well, the future of this country is bright! Hahahahahaha…"

As he gently turned his tongue, Samukawa also turned his thoughts around.

The Green Clan. An organization that appears to be hostile to "Scepter 4". First, he would start investigating from there.

++++++++++

The war is waged within 10.2 inches.

Multiple green light points move on a wireframe map. A blue dot suddenly appears there, blocking the green path. The greens scatter and try to escape the blue by taking their own routes, but this time a red dot of light appears in front of them, a giant X mark was carved on top of the green dot of light sandwiched between the red and blue.

Kusanagi placed the tablet on the bar counter after confirming that the large letters "TARGET NEUTRALIZED" appeared in the center of the screen.

"It seems that the joint fight with the Blue Clan is unexpectedly going well."

"Yes."

The one who answered was Anna, who was drinking juice on the seat at the counter. She didn't need to look at the tablet or anything like that, instead she was the source of the location information that was displayed on the tablet.

Anna's original ability to respond increased dramatically after she became the "King". The marbles with her supernatural powers function as "terminals" for her sentient abilities. As long as you have the marble, they can communicate with each other without any electronic network. By distributing marbles to not only "Homura", but also "Scepter 4", they have built an information network that could be called the "Supernatural Power Network".

That is one of the new advantages gained by the "Three Kings Alliance". Jungle's superiority so far has been its control over the electronic network. If you blindfold him, "Jungle" will never beat the alliance.

"Ah, they are very lucky."

Yata, who was sitting on the couch, muttered so and dropped the tablet.

"Hey, Kusanagi-san, why am I on standby here? Even if you're going to blow those green guys away, without this Yatagarasu, you'll have to deal with "Homura"."

Kusanagi looked at Yata in astonishment,

"Idiot. If you see green, you'll run in without looking back. I heard various things, what kind of recklessness Yata-chan did during the cooperation operation with the blue ones."

"Gak..."

Yata shuddered. Seeing that, Kusanagi sighed quietly.

He thought that he had calmed down a bit, but Yata was still Yata. In the operation with "Jungle", he ignored cooperation and rushed over, rampaging without thinking about the damage to the surroundings, and even ended up fighting with "Scepter 4" who tried to stop him. In response, Kusanagi would have a headache.

With that said, Yata was also right.

"I can't help it. I can't keep my cool when I'm in front of those green guys. It's about Mikoto-san and Totsuka-san..."

Saying that, Yata cut off his words. Like he hates talking about it.

Until now, Yata has suppressed his anger towards "Jungle". The explosive power when released would not be suitable for cooperation. No doubt it was Kusanagi himself who told him not to deflect anger away from them, and it might be a bit unreasonable to ask him to adjust the output as well.

Kusanagi knows. The strength of Yata's feelings and the frustration that comes with it. That's why he spoke in a soft tone.

"Well, people like us are important too. Reserve forces, you say. In preparation for accidents, you always need to have some leeway."

"Is that being a substitute?"

Kusanagi smiled wryly at the Yata-style way of saying it.

"Yes, don't be silly. Yata-chan is the one saying that he's going to protect Anna."

"That's right."

Yata awkwardly looked away and looked at Anna. Anna was calmly drinking juice. Her calm demeanor oozes the dignity of a "King".

Hitting the tablet with his finger, Kusanagi said as if to persuade him.

"Yata-chan, you have to learn to look at things from a distance. This is a good opportunity."

"Hey..."

Yata took the tablet again while letting out a careless voice. Even as he curled his lips, he rubbed awkwardly with his fingertips, trying to grasp the battle situation.

Kusanagi returned his gaze to his tablet and opened the information screen.

"The "Green King" hasn't shown any conspicuous movement since the turmoil in Gakuenjima. It's only the clansmen in the end who are still rampaging."

"As long as you're being watched from blue front and red rear, you can't make any perceptible movement. But..."

Looking at the marbles placed on the counter, Anna said quietly.

"He's not holding back, he's gathering strength."

"It's like sharpening your fangs to make the next big thing happen... It's a spooky story."

Yata, who was on the couch, laughed heartily.

"No matter what, there are three "Kings" here, with Anna leading the way. Even if those green bugs bring their boss, we'll crush them easily!"

Yata stated so confidently, but Kusanagi's expression did not clear.

"Three "Kings", even if you say that..."

As he muttered, the exchanges at Gakuenjima revived in Kusanagi's mind.

"Could you tell the "Red Queen" to keep an eye on the status of the "Blue King"?"

The "Silver King" Isana Yashiro told Kusanagi that when he handed over the documents related to the "Dresden Slate".

"What do you mean status?"

"I can't say exactly what it is, but it's very dangerous. It's like…"

Shiro kept his mouth shut, as if he was hesitating to say anything else. Therefore, Kusanagi was able to accurately understand what he was saying.

It's like Suoh Mikoto.

Kusanagi groaned.

"The regicide charge, huh?"

It was directly Munakata who took Suoh's life. But… Even if Munakata hadn't wielded the sword from him, the “Sword of Damocles” would have fallen and Suoh would have lost his life.

A "King" can only be killed by a "King". It's a taboo. Appropriate punishment will be given to those who violate the taboo. That was the "regicide charge" destabilization of the royal authority due to the rapid increase in Weismann deviation, and the end result was the riot.

Suoh killed the "Colorless King". As a result, it went out of control and caused enormous damage to the entire Kanto region. It was Munakata's sword that prevented it from happening, but because of this, Munakata also had to bear the burden of regicide.

"You've noticed the signs, right?"

"The "Sword of Damocles"..."

It is now an open secret that the gigantic sword that towered in the blue sky had some flaws in its majesty. Every time Munakata wielded his royal power, the fault seemed to grow. He doesn't want to imagine what's to come, but he had to. If things get worse, the entire Kanto region could turn into a huge crater.

"It's not like it's going to happen right now, but the situation is the situation. It's better to be very careful."

Remembering those words, Kusanagi frowned.

"I don't know how much we can trust them anymore, and I want you to be honest about what happens to anyone. I wish it wasn't like that."

At this time, Anna put the cup on the counter and said quietly.

"I was able to meet Mikoto and the people of "Homura" thanks to the "Slate"."

There is a certain determination in Anna's eyes.

"But if someone becomes like Mikoto because of the "Slate", then I..."

"Anna, what are you saying...?"

Yata looked puzzled at Anna and then at Kusanagi.

However, Kusanagi couldn't take his eyes off Anna. The worst possible imaginable. That's what the "King'' imagines, who has the ability to resonate louder than anyone else. That raised Kusanagi's sense of crisis on several levels.

"That's why the "Blue King" is in such bad shape."

Anna didn't answer. She was looking at the counter with a penetrating gaze.

The marble touched her elbow and rolled off the counter to the floor, making a loud noise.

++++++++++

She flipped the futon over and check the inside.

"Shiro?"

It wasn't there. Next up was the closet. She opened it on both sides and stuck her head inside.

"Eh? Shiro? Ah?"

Shiro was not there. She carefully opened each shelf of the dresser and said his name.

"Shiro, answer me. Shiro!"

No matter which shelf she opened, she couldn't see Shiro.

With each confirmation, Neko's anxiety grew by one. Shiro was nowhere to be found. Where had he gone? Did he go somewhere far away?

"Hey, Shiro, where are you?"

"If it's Shiro, he just left."

Kuro, who was cooking in the kitchen, said that casually.

"Where did he go? I'm going too!"

"Leave him alone for a while. I'm sure he has a lot to think about."

She spun on her heel, jumped, and when she landed on the bed, she had already taken the form of a cat. When she buried the tip of her nose in the futon, she was filled with Shiro's scent.

And, Kuro poked his head out of the kitchen. With an exasperated expression, he tried to scold Neko.

"I know you're happy to have Shiro back, but it's a bit complicated. He's not going anywhere, so calm down."

"Why!"

"...Why, you?"

"Why does Kurosuke know that?!"

As if she yelled, Neko said that.

From inside the futon, she looked at Kuro with bright blue and gold eyes. Kuro's calm demeanor annoyed her. Why didn't he care more? Where is the guarantee that Shiro will not go anywhere?

"He Might disappear again! Shutting people up is being selfish!"

"Neko..."

Kuro's expression changed to something like that.

As he wiped his hands on the edge of his apron, Kuro walked over to Neko and sat down next to her. He reached out his hand and gently stroked her forehead.

"Are you worried, Neko?"

Neko turned around and put her head inside the futon. However, Kuro never stopped stroking Neko. He placed his palm on the fur on her back and stroked her.

"Ok. Shiro isn't going anywhere. You said so."

"...Such thing."

"Can't you believe in Shiro?"

"No, it's not like that, but Shiro..."

A muffled voice echoed from the depths of the futon. She did not doubt Shiro. Kuro wouldn't tell a lie either. After searching for Shiro for a long time, she finally found it. He would never go anywhere again. She wanted to believe that, and she should have.

Still, she couldn't control the anxiety welling up inside her.

"It's strange."

As he slowly stroked Neko's back, Kuro said that longingly.

"When you were looking for Shiro, you never doubted that you would see him again. You couldn't be more optimistic. Still, you were the one who was really right."

That's how it is. Without Shiro, she never experienced such anxiety. She never felt the fear of not seeing him again.

And yet...

"Why are you so worried even though you were able to find Shiro?"

She didn't know.

Neko didn't know why. She doesn't care about Nagare or the Slate or anything like that. It is so because it is so.

Because...

Because she knows that people suddenly disappear for no reason and never come back.

"Oh!"

In the depths of the futon, in the darkness, Neko's body writhed.

With green feathers dancing in the air.

A name that was confined deep within, and she prayed that it would never revive again.

"Ameno Miyabi."

A young man's voice called out to Neko.

"No way!"

Shouting, Neko jumped. When she turned around and returned to her human form again, she hugged Kuro in surprise and buried her face into his shoulder.

Then she began to cry silently.

"Neko?"

Kuro, dismayed, raised a confused voice. But Neko couldn't handle it. Overwhelmed by inexplicable anxiety and fear, she trembled all the time.

++++++++++

It was the first time in a long time that he had looked at the sky from the ground.

The sky was infinitely wide, blue and lonely. There was no one but Shiro. Therefore, it was quiet and lonely. It was the perfect place to break all ties and walk away.

The ground contrasted with the sky. It is teeming with people, and the speculations they create never cease, intricately intertwining and spreading. Thinking about it, Shiro was astonished as if it was the first time coming into contact with it.

The place where he is now, is the nostalgic Gakuenjima, the rooftop of the school building.

It's a place he used to hang out at when he was just Isana Yashiro. He would skip classes and take a nap there, and Kukuri would scold him for it. With nothing but white rice in hand, he would beg everyone for a side dish and turn it into a boxed lunch.

Looking back now, it seems like a memory from a previous life. Hard to believe it was only a year ago.

"If we delay, this country will end..."

After suddenly muttering, Shiro smiled quietly.

Was the voice he heard at that moment Kokujoji's scream? Or was it an unconscious warning from himself who felt it? At some point, he must have foreseen the path that would lead to the end of this country.

Where did it all start?

Hisui Nagare's secret move. The death of Daikaku Kokujoji. The attack on Mihashira Tower. Suoh Mikoto and the death of Totsuka Tatara. The accident of Adolf K. Weismann and the rampage of the anonymous "Colorless King".

Or is it the conflict between Kagutsu Genji and Habari Jin?

Or did it all start when he discovered the "Dresden Slate" in the first place?

While he was immersed in such thoughts, he suddenly heard a sound of wings.

A soft voice called out to Shiro who was still looking at the blue sky.

"You did your best to warn the "Blue King", but it seems to have been in vain. I feel sorry for you."

Shiro replied without looking back.

"Peeping is not impressive, "Green King" Hisui Nagare."

"My eyes are everywhere. It's my only freedom."

That's true. The "Green King" rules the network. In today's information society, he has tremendous power. Due to that power, he was able to evade the eyes of the "Golden King" and continue to plot against him to this day.

"Dragging you as soon as the lieutenant died, you are also quite cunning."

He thought the parrot that was perched on the rooftop rail smiled.

"To think that someone who finally decided to move after his friend's death would teach me a lesson. I find it ironic."

Shiro also smiled gently.

"I see, when you say that, I have no words to answer. So?"

"Yes. Now that the nice introduction is over, let's get down to business."

The parrot is the "Green King". Hisui Nagare's messenger spread his wings. As if he would open his arms when one entertains another.

"I have been waiting for your return. I wanted to bring you this proposal."

He had an idea of what the proposal was. However, Shiro said nothing and just waited for Nagare's words.

As expected, Nagare offered one of the wings to Shiro.

"First King, "Silver King" Adolf K. Weismann, would you like to join me?"

Shiro didn't laugh. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders and said:

"Let's join the "Chabudai Alliance" and let's all four work together to protect world peace! I don't think that will be your proposal."

"The "Chabudai Alliance"... It's a fancy and respected name, but of course it's different. It's a new one-on-one alliance between you and me to further the evolution of humanity."

"......"

"You must have pointed to that once. In Dresden, 70 years ago."

A breeze blowing through Dresden. The voices of people laughing and chatting. In an instant, the strange-flavored dishes brought in between experiments appeared in Adolf's mind and then disappeared.

"That "Slate" is the "Evolution Acceleration Device" displayed on the "King" and the Clansman. Suppressed by the strongest existence, the "Golden King", the appearance of tension was slight, and even the appearance of the "King" was limited to the entire Kanto region."

With a dry voice, Shiro asked.

"Is that your purpose? For what?"

"It's just like I said. It's "just" to further the evolution of mankind."

Slowly, he broke out in a cold sweat.

As for the ultimate goal of the "Green King", he had a few possibilities in mind, perhaps the worst.

Hisui Nagare has come up with all kinds of plans for "just" the evolution of humanity. It doesn't matter what the motivation is. The problem is that Nagare is infinitely pure and therefore never gives up.

Equal parts fear and vigilance, Shiro said:

"You seem to be more dangerous than I thought."

"I am honored to receive such a compliment. However, that is my dream."

"Dream..."

As if an old wound from the past had reopened, Shiro's chest slowly ached.

"That dream..."

"Did it break? So why don't we rebuild it together? The situation is different now than it was 70 years ago. Nothing can stop us anymore. We just have to."

Nagare's dream had an irresistible charm.

Because it's a dream he once had. In that nostalgic Dresden, he would make the dream he pursued with Kokujoji and Claudia come true. It would not fail this time. He wouldn't let anyone get in his way. Unravel the mystery of the "Slate" and lead humanity to a new stage!

Breathing easily, Shiro replied.

"I will politely decline."

Nagare tilted his head in wonder.

"Why?"

"Everything is different from 70 years ago."

Kokujoji and Claudia are no longer anywhere.

His dream disappeared from the earth with them. What Nagare sees is nothing more than a dream similar to the one he once had. It's up to him to decide what to do with it, but even if he makes a mistake, it's not something he can do on his own.

This is because Shiro knows too much about the many things that have been lost as a result.

"Hmm... I didn't think it was a bad proposal, but it seems I was naive."

Nagare said without a hint of regret, and then continued like this.

"There is no specification, let's do our best to get the "Slate"."

Shiro was not surprised. He assumed that would happen, of course. Analyzing his actions thus far, it was clear that he was trying to make the "Dresden Slate" his own, the source of the mystery.

"Originally, he was going to imitate the "Golden King" and wait for the rookie "Blue King", who was desperately suppressing the power of the "Slate", to run out. It's a change of plans."

"Since I came back, I won't let you do what you want."

"Is that so? I wanted to go hand in hand with you, but if you're going to compete, that's what I want. I'm looking forward to it."

Nagare's voice was filled with calm fighting spirit and confidence.

With the "Chabudai Alliance", the situation of the war changed drastically. Due to the cooperation of the three clans, "Jungle" was now cornered.

But where does this confidence come from?

If he asks that question, he won't get an answer. Because that was Hisui Nagare's trump card. Like Shiro, he must have a secret "something" that will show his power only when he puts it on the field.

So Shiro asked another question.

"I'd like to confirm one thing, but it's okay to say that you were the one who dragged me onto this game board in the incident a year ago, right?"

On the other side of the parrot, he felt Nagare let out a small laugh.

"Oh, did you notice?"

"This body..."

Shiro placed his hand on his chest and looked at Nagare.

“Even if the Blue Clan used the Yuishiki system, they wouldn't be able to determine his identity. There's no way anyone but you could prepare such a person. In that case, you were the one who set the stage for the "Colorless King". take action on that incident, and you instigated me."

The escape of the "Colorless King" seemed chaotic and calculated. Using Shiro as bait, the "Red King" and the "Blue King" collided, and in the midst of the chaos, he was trying to gain the power of various Kings. If he had bought into that ambition, he would certainly have been a vessel for the "King", but there was a limit to what he could do on his own. There must have been an organization to support him somewhere.

And the only clan that is benefiting from the current situation is "Jungle".

"I see. Was it counterproductive by erasing the traces of existence, disguising an accidental death to those around you, and providing the necessary information? It's a bad habit of mine to be too picky."

For the first time, Shiro was angry with Nagare.

Totsuka Tatara. Suoh Mikoto. Many others lost their lives in the rampage of the "Colorless King". If this was all part of Hisui Nagare's plan, then he couldn't forgive this man.

"Go so far, why me?"

Nagare answered easily.

"You should be a player, not a watcher. You started it all."

He felt as if he were being showered with cold water.

He thought that was true. It all started him. He found the "Slate", analyzed it, and became "King" through mystery; that's how it all started, and all the tragedies up to this point have started there.

Many people lost their lives due to the rampage of the "Colorless King". The "Green King" planned it. So what happened before that? Who is responsible for the hundreds of thousands of lives lost in the battle between Kagutsu Genji and Habari Jin? Whether it's him, Kokujoji, or Claudia, there's no such thing as lack of responsibility.

That's why Shiro thought.

What has been started must be finished.

"Manage the "Slate"... no, do you want to release it?"

"So it will be. Please, don't worry and trust us with your dreams."

Shiro stared at Nagare who said that with indifference and determination.

"What if I say you can't?"

"Fight if you want."

Leaving that behind, the parrot that housed it flapped its wings and flew away. Shiro waited until the figure turned into a black dot in the blue sky and finally disappeared from sight.

"I don't want any of this."

He doesn't like to fight. If dialogue and understanding solve the problem, then it's better. But then Nagare would never give up. The purity of his ideals makes him uncompromising. He knows this because Shiro used to be like this.

When Hisui Nagare stops, that's when his heart stops.

As he clenched his fist, Shiro determinedly lied a bit.

"But I won't run away anymore."

[seijuurouxryuu]

Title: My Treasures, My Everything Author: Shiro (TeitoxAkashi [AO3]/ seijuurouxryuu [tumblr]) Rating: T Pairing: Natori Shuuichi/Natsume Takashi Tags/Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Alpha/Beta/Omega, Nesting, Fluff, Alpha!Natori and Omega!Natsume

AO3

Despite only having a handful of experience nesting as an omega, Natsume was pretty confident with himself as he navigated through his house for treasures and spoils feverishly. He was a little muddled in the head, but he was still well awake and rational--or so he says. (Short summary: Just. Natsume in pre-heat and is nesting.)

Despite only having a handful of experience nesting as an omega, Natsume was pretty confident with himself as he navigated through his house for treasures and spoils feverishly. He was a little muddled in the head, but he was still well awake and rational--or so he says. Natori had to try and stop him from bringing the sets of kitchen knives Touko used every day. It elicited angry whines from the boy because that knife set reminds him of Touko the most and who is Natori to deny him of it! Who!!

Natori felt helpless as he gently pulled Natsume's hands away, mentally screaming for help from the Buddhas above. He wondered how did the Fujiwara's helped Natsume when he was nesting because unlike textbook omegas, Natsume not only find the softest things in the house, no. He scavenged for anything and everything that reminds of those he loves, even if they are hard (--the wrong kind of hard--) and dangerous.

"Baby, no." Natori gently but firmly said. "This is dangerous, you cannot bring it into your nest." He almost cried himself when Natsume gave him another wounded whine and teary eyes from being denied. Just how did the Fujiwara do it!!! How can they stand Natsume's teary looks!!!!! Natori coughed and pulled himself out of his screaming session in his brain and offered two tea cups instead, commonly used by Touko and Shigeru. "Will these do? You know Touko-san and Shigeru-san uses this every day."

Natsume looked at the offerings with pouty lips and considered for a good full minute that left Natori sweating bullets.

"Fine." Natsume took the cups and held it carefully to his chest along with his other finds (the couch pillows, the blankets all around the house, the cat teaser he used to tease Nyanko-sensei, the...). He then waddled back to his room to put them down, followed closely by Natori who breathed out a quiet sigh of relief. If anyone was wondering why Natori had to follow Natsume around--or to be exact, was ordered to follow around--was because Natsume couldn't stand being away from Natori more than 2 meters away. No, he was absolutely inconsolable if Natori was not within his reach or sight. Natori tried that by sneaking away for toilet break an hour ago only to come back to Natsume crying and sobbing in his half-made nest and Natori had to promise his guts and liver to this boy to make him stop crying.

Absolutely inconsolable.

Such a baby.

Natori's baby.

Natori's eyes softened as he stayed at the edge of Natsume's room, close but not too near his nest as the boy mumbled to himself about the placement of his new finds. He still hasn’t gotten the permission to enter after all, so he did not want to overstep. He wanted to wait for Natsume's permission, to join him in his nest and hold him through his heat.

His precious boy, oh how Natori couldn't wait to hold him tight and protect him from the world.

His eyes glinted in golden as he flitted his gaze to the windows, making sure the talismans and seals are intact. He wasn't going to let any yokai disturb their moments. Nor was he going to let any harm Natsume, or take his attention away from Natori.

Natori's murderous thoughts stopped short when Natsume whined for his attention.

"Shuuichi-sannnn!"

Natori's gaze softened as he cooed out to Natsume, "Yes, baby?"

Natsume preened at the nickname, but held his grabby hands out. "Your clothes."

Natori's expression cracked a little as he choked out a shy cough. He was shy, of course, but it wasn't as though he and Natsume had not seen each other naked.

He pulled off his jacket and shirt, baring his skin to the boy that held his heart. Handing them over, he sputtered a little at how his trousers were demanded for too. Helpless. Natori was a sucker for him and he would do anything for him, so he stripped himself naked. Yes, he just straight up offered his boxer along, which was the best decision ever because boy, Natsume was so pretty when his eyes lit up at that. He was so cute, so beautiful, Natori was so entranced and in love.

He watched with soft eyes as Natsume carefully place his clothes nearest to the center of his nest, cooing to himself as he did. Natsume then pulled off his clothes and put it together with Natori's. He took one last look at his nest and chirped happily at his handiwork. He dived into his nest and snuggled at Natori's and his own's clothes.

"Shuuichi-san."

"Yes, baby?"

"Join me?"

If gazes can melt, Natori would now be a puddle of goo by now. His own eyes softened and nodded. "Of course, baby. Thank you for letting me in."

He stepped into the nest, let the pair of grabby hands cling onto him as he arranged them so that Natsume would lean into his arms, holding him to his heart.

Natsume purred and nuzzled into his neck, breathing in the smell of paper and wood. He loved it; it reminds him of his childhood. He yawned, breathing slowing down. "Sleepy..."

Hands cradling him drew mindless pattern on his skin. One raked through his hair and gently scratched his scalp. "Sleep, then, baby. I'll watch over you." He felt a kiss on his forehead as he started to purr louder at the warmth that spread through his limbs. He nodded and sleepily said, "Okie..." and he fell asleep with the constant, stable purr.

Natori chuckled and planted another kiss on Natsume's head, breathing in his calming sweet pheromones of sun dew. He started to yawn too, under the soothing rumbles from his omega, getting some rest for now. After all, he would be busy soon when Natsume finally wakes.

"I love you, baby." He murmured into Natsume's head as sandman pulled him into the same dream as Natsume's.

----------------------------------

Notes:

I miss writing so much its not funny. But I dont have the motivation or inspiration to write at the moment, high key had a bit of writing burnout for a while which I'm still fervently trying to deny. So yea. Basically, this fic was written *sees discord record* 26 November 2023. Yea. And I forgot about it. I wanted to like, add more things with, for example with Touko and Shigeru but then like... EHHH... Unless yall wanna see the scenes that did not cut because Idk how to incorporate it into this fic?? A teaser here: "It was probably out of luck that Natsume never had a very bad episode of heat since he presented as an omega. Or out of stress and insecurity for the lack of safe space. At 12, he was presented as a recessive omega who would at most have heat twice a year. However, despite his doctor’s prediction, he didn’t have another episode of heat until two years later when he had just moved in with the Fujiwara’s. By then, the inhibitors he kept as backups had long expired unused, long thought that he didn’t need it anymore. Hell, he even thought that he was a beta wrongly diagnosed as an omega since everyone couldn’t even tell that he was an omega. Not having heats worked in his favour as well since getting a heat while being chased by youkais was the last thing he needed. So, when it hit him out of nowhere on the day he settled into the Fujiwara’s, he was so underprepared. “Oh dear,” He cracked a tired eye open as he shifted his heavy head on the pillow, burning body buried under layers of weighed blankets and duvets that Touko offered him. His gaze was blurry as he looked at Touko’s worried face, wiping away the sweat on his exposed skin with a cold, damp towel. “I’m so sorry, Takashi-kun. We couldn’t prepare you in time for this.”" Welp, there you guys go. Maybe I'll just post it as a separate chapter?? Maybe... ANYWAYS I REALLY MISS THE POSTING SEQUENCE BECAUSE GOD,,, THE PAIN OF THINKING A TITLE IS SO NOSTALGIC Thanks for dropping by!! [I apologies for any grammar, spelling, etc. etc.] (should i abandon this end statement already... its been 6 years.... not that my english improved a LOT but it definitely did... still,,, eng not first language)

[banditywrites]

Okay I kind of forget if I sent a prompt before, so ignore this if I did. But a prompt idea would be your “rush of rose gold” idea, where lance becomes addicted and doesn’t tell anyone.

I have had this written for a few weeks, but due to midterms, I was just able to fix it up a bit now for you! Thank you for this prompt!

Words: ~1995 (I can't seem to keep anything to the 1k I said I would)

Warnings: Addiction, withdrawal, mention of vomiting

Rush of Rose Gold

Lance drummed his fingers along his thigh. He felt Blue push at his mind, but he couldn’t tell what she wanted. He was trying to concentrate on the mission at hand. He really was.

It was tedious and boring, but it was still a mission. Voltron was acting as an escort for cargo ships in this sector. They had recently formed an alliance with a very nice group of aliens who had agreed to share resources with Voltron. In return, all the paladins had to do was make sure their cargo shipments made it from one planet to another.

Lance felt his fingers tapping harder as sweat dripped down his brow. He swallowed, trying to force away the feeling of his too dry throat.

He felt like shit.

But he needed to keep it together. Keep it together. Just for another varga or so. Then he could tell his team that he wasn’t feeling well and go back to his room and… and…

Lance felt a stab of guilt deep in his gut.

Nothing. It was nothing.

Not a big deal.

The alliance with the Nail’ne was new and they had celebrated it quite enthusiastically. At the party, Lance hadn’t had a reason to refuse any food or drink they passed his way. The little vial filled with liquid rose gold that a politician had slipped into his hand had seemed innocuous. It had felt warm on his throat and it wasn’t until the entire vial was gone that he realized it might have been a mistake. The world had gone fuzzy, and he found that he didn’t care. He felt great. He didn’t miss home or his family. He didn’t worry about the war or being the seventh wheel. He was just so happy.

That night, the team had realized something was off and Shiro, thinking Lance had willingly drank something alcoholic, sent him to bed with the instruction to drink water and sleep it off. Hunk had checked on him later. He remembered his friend asking if he was alright. Lance had been staring at the wall, drifting in a gentle haze, but he answered with a soft hum.

They all left him alone after that and he fell into the best sleep he’d had while out in space.

When he woke up, he thought he was dying. Shiro lectured him and he threw up in the corridor that day. They left him to his misery, telling him it would be over soon and to take it as a lesson to be more careful.

Lance snorted at the memory as he slipped off his helmet and attempted to wipe the sweat from his brow.

Be more careful. As if their lives didn’t always hang between life and death as they fought an intergalactic war with giant, robot cats.

He had first realized something was wrong when the sick feeling gave way to a sort of itching under his skin. At the next gathering with their new allies, Lance found himself searching out the politician. When he did find him, Lance had only stared, unable to say anything. What was he thinking? Finding this practical stranger again? What was he going to do? The stuff wasn’t alcohol. It was obviously something else, something stronger. The alien must have seen something in Lance’s tired stare because he winced sympathetically and slipped three more vials into thr boy's hands.

Lance had found a reason to leave after that, claiming illness, tiredness, whatever, it didn’t matter.

“Not all at once,” he had cautioned before he slipped away again and back into the throng of dignitaries.

When he got back to his room on the castleship, his hands were shaking. A voice in the back of his head asked what he was doing. This isn’t who you are, it whispered. But Lance shook his head and pushed the thoughts away.

Maybe I don’t want to be me all the time, Lance whispered back. It wasn’t a big deal. It was nice and warm and it made him happier and he could sleep after and he was so tired. He needed it to sleep. Sleep was a good thing. Just a little bit. Nothing wrong with it. Coran always offered teas to help them sleep, this wasn’t any different.

Lance opened the first bottle and took a small sip.

That had been weeks ago.

The vials were emptied after five days and he had told himself no more, but he felt so sick when it ran out. The team was going to realize something was wrong and the fear of being discovered sent him sneaking down to the planet’s surface, looking for more of what he needed. He didn’t know its name, but a description of the substance was enough to get him more. He found himself in the right part of town where there were plenty of the aliens willing to gift him portions of their stash just because they recognized him as a paladin. He probably should have worried about that, being recognized… but it didn’t matter. Getting more was what mattered. Not feeling like useless garbage all the time was what mattered.

Lance settled his helmet back over his sweaty hair. He was due for some more. He found that if he just took a few small sips throughout the day, he would be fine. But this mission was dragging on too long. He was glad to help, but it was just him out here. They probably didn’t even need to escort this cargo ship. There were no signs of Galra or anything. Lance sighed. He was the only lion out here, so, even though it was boring, he needed to concentrate and be ready. It wouldn’t look good if he messed up a solo mission.

Lance drummed his fingers along his armrests and gave a shudder. It was cold and he was feeling nausea beginning to build. As soon as he got back, he would tell his team he wasn’t feeling well and they would let him skip dinner and go to his room. He was allowed to not feel well. Fighting a war out in space was tiring.

By the time the mission was over, Lance was ready to crawl out of his own skin.

-0-0-0-

He was not expecting to meet Coran in the hangar. Just Coran. Standing and looking him over before breaking the silence.

“Will you come with me?” The Altean asked.

When they ended up in the medical bay, Lance nearly turned and ran. He had been avoiding this. Coran had offered to scan him multiple times. Every time Lance claimed he was feeling ill. Which had been… maybe too many days now. He should not have used that excuse so much. But Lance couldn’t let Coran scan him. He would find it in his system. He was sure to find it.

Lance tried to remain calm.

“What is it, Coran? I was just going to go sleep. I’m tired today.”

“I’m sure you are,” Coran answered before motioning to the exam table. “Have a seat, my boy.”

Lance laughed nervously. “I’m not sick, just tired.”

Coran looked at him and Lance didn’t know what the man’s expression meant. Sadness maybe.

“Lance,” Coran paused, motioning to the exam table slowly. “I need you to sit down.”

Lance did as he was told, forcing out a laugh again. “I’m really OK.”

Coran didn’t respond at first, but he pulled at his mustache and seemed to be lost in thought.

“Coran?” Lance finally squeaked out when he couldn’t take it anymore. The man stepped forward and looked him in the eyes.

“I need you to know that I want to help you. Remember that.” Coran raised an eyebrow and stared until Lance nodded, slowly, not wanting to know where this was going.

“I care about you, lad. I want you to be alright.” Again, Coran stared until Lance gave a slow nod. “It is because I care that I cannot watch you hurt yourself.”

“Coran?” Lance forced out of his closing throat. “I don’t underst-.”

The Altean reached into his pocket and pulled out a single vial of rose gold liquid.

Lance’s vision tunneled.

“Your team has noticed you acting differently. We are all worried about you. So, I began an investigation while you were away today.” Coran swirled the substance and it glittered in the light. “I found this in your room.”

“My room,” Lance breathed.  A thousand excuses died in his throat. Not mine, it’s not what it looks like, it’s not a big deal…

“Do they know?” Lance asked.

“I have spoken with Shiro. He agreed not to tell the others for now. We don’t want to hurt you or embarrass you.” Coran took a deep breath, “but I think you need help.”

Lance was starting to shake his head.

“Let me help you, my boy. Please.”

Lance felt his eyes burning and they stung like the rest of him. And it was all so stupid, and it wasn’t him, but it was and what did Coran think of him now?

“You’re not angry?” Lance shuddered out.

“No.” Coran shook his head. “Scared and worried. Not angry.” The man sat a hand on Lance’s knee stopping it from bouncing. The gentle touch sent tears spilling over.

“Coran, Coran, I didn’t meant to. I swear. It just happened. I don’t feel right anymore. And it helps and it makes me feel better and I feel like I’m dying without it and I don’t know what to do!” The words all tumbled out in heaving sobs. “I am so sorry. God, I’m so sorry. But I need it. I need it.” He was reaching for the tiny vial, but Coran quickly held it out of arm’s reach. Then, with five quick steps Coran was dropping it into the waste chute.

Lance jumped off the table without meaning to.

“No!” And he didn’t know what he was doing, because it was gone. And there was nothing he could do about it. He was standing now, his hands outstretched, panic gripping him. “I need, I need-,” his voice broke. His heart was skipping beats and he was going to die if he didn’t have-

Steady arms wrapped around him.

Lance let his arms drop to his side as he let out a strangled sob.

I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this. Don’t make me do this.

The arms tightened around him and a strained voice murmured into his hair.

“I know it’s hard to see right now, but you’re going to be alright.”

Lance was speaking aloud without meaning to, rambling and sobbing and being so very weak.

Coran shushed him, smoothing his hair down and told him he wasn’t weak at all.

“Please,” the man whispered. Lance’s arms clutched at Coran’s back as he felt his world slipping away from him.

“Help.” Lance choked. “Help me.”

Coran nodded and let out the quietest sigh of relief.

“We’re going to take care of it. You’re going to be alright. I promise. You will be alright.”

Lance didn’t understand how he could ever feel alright again. There were shadows bearing down on him and he was so tired and sick and nothing had been alright for such a long time.

“Lance,” Coran was cradling the back of his head with one hand, “it’s going to be hard, but you’re going to find the light again. Together, we can find it.”

Lance couldn’t see it. But with Coran holding him so tight, sounding so sure, maybe he could imagine the possibility of a life outside of the darkness he had found himself in. He had to believe that there was something outside of this misery. Even if he couldn’t see it now.

“Okay,” he heard himself rasp out. “Okay,” he repeated before burying his face into Coran’s shoulder. The Altean hummed softly and didn’t let go.

Lance leaned into the warmth.

[greatprotector-if]

hey... no shame in admitting your ideal man is a straight gym bro who melts into a teddy bear after he realizes he likes guys... the gay panic.... the puppy love... the earnestness... you know he'd get all shy and nervous asking to hold your hand for the first time... poor guy's trembling during your first kiss because oh my god he's never done this with a guy before???? he's so happy he could die... i'm also touch starved and want to be held in a pair of big strong arms, i get you /lh.

and girl (gender neutral) thank you for humoring ME!!!! i am so normal about sdv i swear. i also happen to have the dcburger portrait mod installed (mainly because i couldn't find shie portraits for ridgeside) so now i get whiplash going from two very different art styles. also sprinkle in a bunch of dialogue mods and now everyone's more fleshed out... slippery slope to having like 60 mods in your folder and really putting your computer to work. i have the yandere dialogue installed so lovesick doesn't even scratch the surface for my game's alex lol. i get too preoccupied with foraging so i completely miss shiro most days as well (and pretty much every other villager) but him and his little brother are so sweet!!! the scar is just so unfair. i want to kiss him so bad.

i also really like jeric, fun flirty characters are just so mmm. i know the love interests are all playersexual but jeric i buy being fruity. even if he didn't have the single left earring in i would still confidently say he kisses boys. i know what he is.

i'm sweating from the first part of this ask you read me like a fucking book

i'll admit it!!!! gay panic is my Shit!!!!! and the way you described it is exactly what i love about it. games where it literally makes no difference whether you're gay or not are so cool and great but the games where the characters go "haha never been with another guy/girl before" have me in a chokehold. Knowing how to do things with people of the opposite gender but then when it's someone of the same gender suddenly they're nervous and feel vulnerable and don't know where to put their hands? oh my god Might as well just kill me at this point

i know the million mods killing computer feeling i went a little crazy downloading mods & i spent. literal hours just scrolling through them and the dialogue mods Carry. i love them so much, especially the ones that flesh out the romances bc vanilla stardew's kinda lacking in that department. (thank you modders you saved my life) and oh my god dude usually yandere is not my thing personally but when i saw the alex mod curiousity took over and. lookin through those screenshot previews? seeing the things he said? for the first time i Get It. god i get it. my finger almost slipped and i nearly downloaded it myself

JERIC ONLY HAS ONE EARRING? i've spoken to him maybe once so i never noticed that but you're so right that is a boyliker. god i need to stop mining all the time and actually talk to people i can't believe i've been missing out on a flirty character this is so fucked i Need to know more

[mckinlily]

I have this vague headcanon that humans have super dense quintessence but just….don’t use it. Somehow the conditions of Earth means there’s a lot of quintessence floating around (maybe why Blue hid there) but it’s in a condition so that humans, and most earth creatures, evolved to just exist in it. Like nitrogen or something. Which means humans have a whole lot of quintessence that sorta just sits in their bodies like water and they never even notice because why would they?

One reason that the Lions sat inactive for so long is that for most species, these massive other worldly energy sinks that run on quintessence would sap them dry. There’s whole swaths a species that can’t possibly be paladins because the attempt would kill them before they even got off the ground.

Species like Alteans and Galra have either evolved or engineered their way into having enough quintessence to handle the Lion bonds or have a quick/efficient way or recharging or refueling their quintessence. Alteans like Allura can manipulate and absorb/re-emit huge amounts of quintessence. The Galra empire appears to basically run on quintessence. The ability to process and manipulate quintessence has normally been a prerequisite to prominence on the grand scale.

And then you have humans. That have these MASSIVE reserves of super dense quintessence that they do NOTHING with. Like Earth is such a hell planet that oh, whoops, guess we evolved to hoard this massive energy source like a billionaire hoards dollars? And sure, on Earth, that means nothing because everyone has it. Humans haven’t even discovered it because it’s such a non-thing. But throw them into the greater universe?

Hoo boy. Like, statistically, this random, pre-contact species should have almost no chance of being able to fly with the Lions. But no. Five, untrained, very young humans showed up and bonded with the Lions IMMEDIATELY and didn’t even break a sweat. This despite not even knowing what quintessence is beyond like “idk, maybe like an internet personality test??”

Allura herself is already a statistical outlier power house so maybe she doesn’t really realize it, but to anyone else who actually understood the Lions… this shouldn’t even be possible.

(Zarkon originally dismisses and mocks them of having “no idea the true power of the Lions” because it’s like a toddler pretending to drive a car. Haha cute kiddo, keep pulling on the wheel, you’ll get there someday.

Except somehow these toddlers ARE driving and pulling off expert level stunts, and what the fuck, how are they WINNING?!)

The paladins (humans) don’t even notice there’s a drain. “Wow, that was a tough one,” they say and go make a snack. Or get into five arguments and one impromptu game of full contact spoons before the hour is up, it’s all the same (apparently????). They just have THAT much inactive quintessence.

It’s the same thing the powers Shiro’s arm. It’s just his personal quintessence. Notice how we see Senak charging his arm in his first appearance, but Shiro never does? Hagar discovered his extra dense quintessence and got very interested. This kind of constant drain on someone’s life force should kill them in, like, a week tops.

Shiro just thinks he doesn’t get enough sleep because of PTSD/nightmares.

(To be fair, he’s right.)

Also, do you know how much the Lions LOVE having paladins who aren’t always drained or exhausted after bonding with them? Who will stay in the bond seemingly forever? Not to mention, the deeper the bond the more equal the quintessence exchange becomes. Oh, and these paladins have no problem materializing Voltron or any of their weapons for indefinite lengths of time. Sure, they struggled to figure out how to do it at first, but again, zero training, toddlers in a motor vehicle. It’s not raw power that’s holding them back.

No one living (besides Zarkon and a few select others) even saw the original Voltron, let alone knew its true capacity. The legends just say “Most Powerful Weapon in the Universe”. So no one has a point of reference for what makes these paladins unique. But if they did, they would be afraid. They should be very, very afraid.

Congratulations, the new paladins have turned Voltron, which was originally a one-punch style weapon, into a persistence predator.

Have fun with that.

I want a Voltron fanfic that uses the ideas of the “humans are space orcs” thing. Like why were humans of all creatures mystically chosen by the universe to be the paladins this time around when last time a different species entirely were assigned to each lion? Oh, I’ll tell you why. Humans are pursuit predators-they have perfected the kind of stamina required to hunt down a 10,000 yr old empire. As a species they managed to stick around long enough to evolve sentience not because of any particular advantage they hold over the rest of the beings on earth but bc of their sheer ability to survive. Good luck killing these guys, Zarkon. Humans are naturally primed to pack bond which is why these paladins are able to form Voltron immediately and it’s part of what makes them so dangerous. Earth is a planet of many cultures, unlike most of the planets seen in the show which for simplicity’s sake seem to have one planet wide culture. This exposure to so many different cultures makes them exceptionally good at forming alliances-perfect skill when leading a war effort. They are inventive, able to digest most anything, able to live through broken bones, and come from a hell planet. Evolution basically made the perfect kind of creatures to pilot the lions. The Alteans are also from a hell world but they developed things like shape shifting and super strength and quintessence sensitivity to beat it-humans didn’t do that. They did something else and it’s far more terrifying.

[rigb0ner]

If he allows it to grow out, Shiro could compete with bigfoot with how hairy he gets, he just shaves and trims. He gets sick for a few weeks and lance sees how hairy he actually gets and is just "???????" because he doesn't understand why he likes shiro having so much body hair

It’s amazing how Shiro’s smooth baby skin can transition to freaking caveman!!! I feel like Lance would love Shiro both ways. But the first time he sees Shiro looking like Bigfoot, he loses it! For a split second he goes “WHO TF ARE YOU??? WHERE IS MY BOYFRIEND???” He’s so used to running his hands over Shiro’s bare skin, but sometimes there was hair on Shiro’s chest and stubble over his jaw. It wasn’t much and Lance liked the feeling. But now he’s like “SHAVE. NOW!!!”

[shyrahsw]

.... hhhh

[slothgiirl]

the medic (keith x reader)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Languages are hard.”

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

“Hunk-”

“Yeah.”

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

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

—————

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

“Don’t even think about it!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh, “of course you are.”

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

You roll your eyes.

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

“I have! Vivian Tran from Calculus.”

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

“And Atticus from Cantonese.”

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

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

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

“Eh-” Lance shrugs.

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

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

“Hey!”

“My nails Lance,” Hunk grumbles.

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

“English.”

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

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

“Ah.”

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

“It timed out.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Only because you cheat!”

“It’s not cheating!”

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

Keith frowns, his hand coming up to his cheek.

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

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

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

“Its been three years,” Lance retorts smugly.

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

“Two and a half,” Pidge answers.

“Ha! You’re twenty! Adult-”

“I don’t have adult acne!”

They’d fought over more meaningless things before.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s clay!”

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

“I could go for a spa,” Hunk nods.

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

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

You shrug. “No clue.”

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

“So face masks?”

You nod, “want to try it Allura?”

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

——————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods, accepting your diagnosis.

“Let me get the medicine.”

“Mhm.”

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

Keith pops one in immediately.

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

“Worried?”

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

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

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

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

“I’ve got to fix this machine first.”

“Need help?”

“Might ask Hunk or Coran,” you admit.

“I could-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“It was only a sprain,” Keith grumbles.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm?”

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

“Keith,” you utter, worried.

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

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

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

Keith leans into your touch, “no.”

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

You were going to have to corner Coran about it.

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

Add cornering Lotor to your list.

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

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

“Mm.”

He was completely out of it.

His breath tickles your cheek.

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

“Oh.”

You look behind you.

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

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

You frown, still processing.

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

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

“If you’re sure?”

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

———————

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

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

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

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

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

Lance unsubtly glances over at Keith.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Matt!”

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

“No!”

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

What had brought this on?

Shiro clears his throat.

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

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

“Pidge,” Shiro chastises.

The green paladin was right.

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

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

The red paladin crosses his arms over his shoulders.

Pidge taps her foot on the floor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh.

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

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

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

Shiro gives the signal.

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

Matt and you get to work.

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

Stupid damn biolocks.

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

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

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

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

“You in,” you ask him.

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

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

The sulfuric fog coats everything.

You taste rotten eggs on your breath.

Inside your suit, sweat runs down your back.

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

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

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

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

“Pidge,” Keith yells out.

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

Nothing.

Matt’s face goes ghostly white.

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

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

“On it.”

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

“Keith,” Shiro yells, “wait!”

“Fine.”

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

He steals himself. “Right.”

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

You and Matt go out to meet them.

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

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

Matt rushes to his sister, “Katie!”

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

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

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

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

Shiro clears his throat, “paladins.”

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

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

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

“The jet pack helped,” Pidge points out.

“Lucky you,” you grin.

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

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

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

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

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

“Very good.”

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

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

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

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

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

You grab her.

Her face goes crimson from the pain.

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

Keith picks her up.

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

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

Keith shakes his hair out.

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

“Why,” he asks, genuinely puzzled.

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

“Oh. Yeah. They did.”

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

A knot of anxiety dissolves in your chest.

“Well,” he asks, “satisfied?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You chuckle, pulling your hands away from his face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

“Starlight.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like for real!”

“Yeah.”

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

You finally hit the motherlode.

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

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

Literally since you and Shiro were the only humans here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shiro nods.

They shake hands.

You stand up, ready to corner Lotor.

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

“Yeah, sure,” Shiro leads Lotor away.

Your eye twitches.

That snake!

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“Wait-”

But she scurries off.

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

Your toe throbs, “fuck,” you hiss.

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

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

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

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

“Anything to spare the wall,” you joke.

——————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was the only constantly dark place in the castle.

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

He whimpers, curling up further.

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

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

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

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

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

“Coran already gave me a dose.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you think Allura minds?”

“Mind what,” you ask.

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

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

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

“Bullshit.”

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

“What if I looked even more Galra?”

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

He was also half human.

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

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

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

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

You wonder how long it’s been bugging him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You giggle, “you’re doing it.”

Keith tries to look at his reflection in the glass.

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s what the mats were for.”

“Still!”

Keith laughs at your expense.

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

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

He doesn’t answer you right away.

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

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

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

You trusted Keith.

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

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

“Duh.”

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

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

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

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

You liked him.

The universe was lucky to have him as a paladin.

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

Could it withstand a hit from a galra battleship?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shh, shh,” you whisper gently.

Sweat beads on his brow.

Whines escape his throat.

“Fuck,” he grunts, clenching his teeth.

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

Keith curls up further, muscles stiff.

You’re helpless.

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

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

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

His hair is damp near his ears.

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

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

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

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

Oh god.

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

You don’t get any sleep that night.

——————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You glance over at the red paladin.

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

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

“Hm?”

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

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

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

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

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

“It takes some getting used to.”

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

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

“Stuff.”

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

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

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

“Sorry.”

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

“You’re hurt.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bad timing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Varga,” Keith supplies.

“Yeah, that.”

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

“Vrepit Sal two,” Keith offers.

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t pull away, wanting to savor the feel of his skin against yours even if it wasn’t that deep. You’d hugged and napped with everyone at least once, grabbing each other’s hands in the confusing crowded hovels of swamp malls (actual swamp malls and not places Coran thought of as a swamp mall).

You nab a table outside the stand.

Everything was in Galra which none of you could read. “Damn,” you mutter looking over.

Hunk glances at Keith without subtlety.

You were starting to think only Allura and Shiro could do subtly.

Keith raises a brow.

“Nothing,” Hunk looks down at his screen.

“Point and hope for the best it is,” you shrug.

“I love a good surprise,” Hunk nods, then looks down at his hands, “we’ll see each other again right? Shay…they’re pretty safe. And well…yellow’s got thick armour.” He sighs, resting his cheek against his fist, elbows on the table.

“Shay’s a badass,” you confort Hunk, “she figured out how to communicate with the Balmera and through the Balmera. She’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty freaking amazing,” Hunk blushes.

You order from an alien that somewhat resembles Ezor, all cotton candy color, and twiddle your thumbs, enjoying the rare moment of rest and relaxation.

“I could get used to this,” Hunk comments, savoring the strange dish he’d been served.

“Get a travel food show,” you tease, “I’d watch it.”

“It could be like this all the time,” Keith muses hopefully, “aren’t planets like this proof we could all get along.” He bites into the glowing blue lotus root shaped meal, and blinks widely.

“What,” you ask, looking over at him.

Keith grabs a napkin and spits out his food. “I think I just lost another tooth.”

“You think,” Hunk raises a brow, “how could you not notice a missing tooth?”

“Smile,” you nudge Keith sitting next to you.

He rolls his eyes, before fake smiling which was always so undeniably forced when he did it. You laugh, nodding, “yup, missing tooth.”

Keith frowns for a second, before continuing to eat.

“Oh,” Hunk utters, before he kicks your leg lightly.

You look up, meeting the yellow paladin’s searching gaze.

He looks at you with a knowing smile.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, the tip of your nose burning hotly, you look down, shoving a questionable sticky black slice into your mouth. It was easy to chew despite the sticky-ness, the flavor starchy and nutty.

There was no way this wouldn’t get back to everyone else in the Castle. No way.

They were all so nosy.

Oh fuck.

——————

“It sure is hot in here,” Lance says with a challenging smirk at Keith.

You roll your eyes.

Lance stretches, resting his arms against the back of the sofa, his hand tapping annoyingly against your shoulder.

Keith is unmoved. Or more accurately, Keith’s mouth twists as he tries hard to ignore Lance’s latest attempts to get him to remove his hat, a lime green thing that clashed perfectly as was his fashion sense, or lack of any fashion sense.

Pidge smacks her head, then peaks curiously at Keith: at Keith’s hat.

You flick Lance’s cheek. “Hey hot shot, don’t hug me when you’ve set the thermostat to ninety degrees.”

“Ninety five actually,” he winks, hugging you towards him. Ugh, you couldn’t do it. You’d already done away with your afghan coat, tied your lavender flannel around your waist, what more could you do. You didn’t have shorts in space. The skirts stored in the castle were breezy, but made you feel at risk of tripping over the hem with each step.

“Hm,” Keith voices, taking a seat, “reminds me of home.”

Hunk snorts, “really thought that through,” he tells Lance.

Lance is undeterred. “Could go higher.”

“I don’t think your cow would like that very much,” you point out.

The blue paladin sulks, looking down at you, “you’re just saying that because you like-”

You jab your elbow into his side.

“Ow! What ever happened to do no harm?”

“Technically,” you tell Lance, “I never graduated.”

“She’s got you there,” Pidge smirks from beside Keith. She was taking apart yet another radio. The signal had yet to reach earth.

“Thank you Pidge.”

She shrugs, “It’s true.” Then turns on Keith, “The hat, explain.”

He looks like he wishes he could merge with the sofa at that, slumping in his seat.

You decide to step in, “I’m going to turn the thermo down.”

Lance is quick to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you back onto the sofa, “come on, relax. Like mullet said, it’s homey.”

You throw him a dirty look.

“Keith?” Pidge side-eyes her fellow paladin. He’s sat up, gripping the sofa cushion so tightly he’s ripping hole into the ten thousand year upholstery.

“You okay there buddy,” Hunk asks.

“No.”

“Oh.”

Keith sucks in a breath, and with deliberate motion, pulls the hat from his head.

Oh.

Your eyes widen.

OH.

His ears had changed.

They weren’t nearly as alien as Allura’s, but no one would mistake their shape for human. Keith’s ears tapered up and out, portrudding, but it was more than just a pointed tip, the entire shape of his ears had transformed, resembling a butterfly’s wing. It was still human in color, but…

Hunk breaks the stunned silence first, “so are you going to like to end up purple?”

Keith ducks his head, wrapping his arms around himself.

No one else gets the chance to further interrogate Keith, or hear his own thoughts, because Allura calls everyone up to the bridge.

Lotor hailed the Castle of Lions. Everyone stands around the bridge while Shiro and Allura take the lead as usual. They might as well be twins given how well they got on, communicating differing ideas without undermining the other.

“There are nine warships in the system,” Lotor acknowledges, “I would be much indebted if you would do me the favor of sending Voltron for the aerial battle.”

“The Empire’s presence is still in its early stages,” Acza explains, “but their terraforming development for the planet will cause the destruction of the Talpidae living there.”

“Then we have no choice,” Allura clenches her fist, never one to sit back while there was something she could do about it, “we will provide air support. Sent me the coordinates so that I may Teleduv there.”

Lance is still obviously eyeing Keith’s latest development. It was readily visible, and you were fighting the urge to do the same.

But you weren’t also trying to flick his ears.

Keith growls lowly.

Lance sniggers.

Pidge offers Lance a piece of paper to make paper balls with.

Hunk sighs long sufferingly, having resigned himself to the more childish side of his two friends. They were terrors. Put Pidge and Lance together, and they were gremlins out of a horror movie made for elementary school teachers.

You slip your hand into Keith’s, squeezing reassuringly. It would take some getting used to like anytime someone got a new haircut, but you would. Like his atrocious boots, they’d become an endearing part of him.

Keith squeezes your hand back.

Shiro nods, agreeing with Allura, “have the Talpidae been contacted.”

“Very much so,” Ezor chimes in, “they’re funny little people. And their sensory-”

“The point Ezor,” Lotor sighs, rubbing his nose bridge.

“They sent for help to the rebels. We were closest to their system,” Exor elaborates with a shrug, “they do not have the background to fight head on, and will evacuate most of their people into bunkers, but they have been digging under the new construction and weakening the structural integrity of the Galra outposts.”

“Very well,” Shiro accepts, “Princess Allura and our chief medic will meet with the Talpidae as a show of goodwill.”

“Our only medic,” Hunk points out.

Keith growls, his hand squeezing yours hard.

You all look over at him.

“Red Paladin,” Allura says, trying to look as professional as possible in front of her least favorite of Voltron’s allies, “is something the matter.” She shares a look with Shiro, but otherwise looks unsurprised at Keith’s less than human ears.

Or maybe she’d make a great poker played.

“Can’t you meet with the Talpidae after the battle,” Keith utters harshly.

“They may need immediate tactical support,” Allura reasons, “we should be there in person to provide it.”

“It’ll be fine Keith,” Shiro adds.

Their words do little to calm Keith down. His dark silky hair puffs up. His grip on your hand tightens and you feel miffed. You’d been on the ground working triage before. You might not be a fighter or pilot but you could look after yourself.

You pull your hand out of his. “I really don’t see what the problem is,” you tell Keith pointedly.

“I’ll watch Allura’s back and she’ll have mine.”

Allura nods. “Our chief medic is correct-”

His ears twitch, “You’re not exactly a fighter.”

Shiro covers his face with a hand.

Your brows furrow. You’re livid. “So! I won’t be fighting. We’ll be in the bunkers with the Talpidae. It’ll be safe so it doesn’t even matter.”

“If it’s perfectly safe then you don’t need to be there,” Keith’s voice breaks, a whine escaping his chest but you don’t care, done with the conversation.

“Yikes,” is Ezor’s quiet whisper.

You’re not a paladin so you don’t care, you just stalk off the bridge ready to go scream into your pillow in frustration. Or better yet, go for a swim and scream underwater.

“Wait-” Keith follows you.

You ignore him.

“I just-,” he keeps trying as you stalk down the stairs, deciding your room was better after all if only because you could lock Keith out.

“Listen-,” he whines.

“I didn’t mean-”

“You didn’t mean what,” you round on him, hands on your hips, pissed off and maybe some of its was from being stuck on this stupid ship all the damn time but like eighty percent was earned. You might not be taking on a squad of Galra soldiers, but you could take one on if it came to it.

Keith at least has the decency to look miserable, sad chirrups in his throat as he crosses his arms over his chest and looks at the ground.

“Well?” You tap your foot on the ground.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he finally manages. “Especially if you don’t need to be there.”

“But I do,” you counter, “There’ll be people running into those bunkers having escaped soldiers and sentries and the faster they get treated the better chance they have.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Keith repeats himself. “You-you can hold your own.” He looks up at you through his bangs, still hunched in on himself.

“Obviously.” There’s no heat, the anger having deflated already. It was just white hot ache in your chest, hurt at the idea that Keith thought you would get in the way, that you had nothing of value to add to the Alliance and Voltron.

You bite your lip.

Don’t cry, you think to yourself.

You were being dumb.

He was just being plain stupid.

“I mean it,” Keith repeats, “I’m sorry. I was just looking for an excuse to make sure you were safe.”

“Right, because Allura can handle herself but I can’t.” Your voice cracks.

“No,” Keith says in a rush, “it’s not the same.”

“Because I can’t fight?”

“That’s not,” Keith runs a hand through his hair, “It’s me okay. I’m-I’ve always jumped into things without thinking, but I decided to go for it, like breaking Shiro out but now I’m doing things before I even notice and it’s all these stupid Galra instincts!”

You swallow.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you once more. “I didn’t mean to and I’m sorry. No one thinks you can’t handle yourself. That’s why Shiro paired you up with Allura, because he knows you’re capable of watching her back.”

Your smile is fragile as you look over at him, “yeah?”

“Yeah.” Keith holds your gaze, looking as skittish as a stray dog. Another whine escapes his throat.

What the heck.

You hug him, “you’re such a dumbass.” You understood why he’d worry. This was war. Pidge was on a two man campaign with Shiro to get Matt to stay on the Castle, both scared witless that Matt might die on a mission with the rebels. Ulaz had died so everyone could get away.

You’d had patients in the last decaphoebs you could do nothing but ease their pain. You’d had patients that you couldn’t even administer anything for the pain because of how torn apart they were: guts spilling out, charred people shapes that you were surprised to still find breathing.

The images would never leave you as long as you lived.

“I’m sorry.” Keith buries his head in the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin sent shivers down your spine.

You hug him tightly, aware that every battle could be your last: the last time you saw him. “You’ve said that already,” you tease, memorizing the smell of him, stale sweat and something cloying that you had wanted to bottle up from the moment you’d met him and had never found on anyone else. As embarrassing as it was to admit to anyone other than yourself, Keith smelled good. Really good.

Most people smelled like nothing at all.

He stiffens.

“But it’s nice to hear again.”

Keith smothers a laugh.

You kiss his hair. Boys were so dumb.

He purrs.

You smile goofily, warmth building under your skin, and toes curling up in your shoes. You should say something. Right?

At some point?

Or maybe it shouldn’t be said under the looming threat of an upcoming battle.

Fuck.

You can’t decide, so you say nothing at all.

——————

Bombs still pelt the surface.

Your teeth chatter as the ground shakes even deep underground. Even more soil falls onto you. Your spacesuit was more oche than white at this point as you carry an injured Talpidae in your arms. It’s arm had been completely blown off. Sluggish blue blood oozed out.

Allura was last, tailing the group.

You reach the bunker.

The sentries had followed some of the feeling Talpidae into the tunnels, but they’d been sorted out.

The people here were strange, russet in fur colouring, with no discernable eye, just strange pink flagella protruding from their nose and large claws for digging. They stood at about Pidge’s height.

The bunker seals and you get to work.

Tourniquet here, pain patch there. There were so many of them banged up.

The fight continued on the surface.

The paladins had to form Voltron.

You and Allura work as a team, she takes the bruises and broken bones with no immediate risk of death. You triage the worst of the Talpidae, giving away your precious stash of painkillers to those you can’t save and are not in for a quick death, a Talpidae lies twitching, it’s nose blown off but alive. Another holds it’s hand, but shakes their head when they look at you. They weren’t going to make it.

Training kicks in and you focus on saving those you can.

Your hands stain blue from the blood.

Allura works alongside you.

You cauterize a Talpidae named Soedob’s hand, the claws on their right limb were gone, but most of it was spared.

“You smell Galra,” Soedob utters, blinking out of the pain induced haze as the painkiller kicked in.

You half hear, half don’t, so focused on the task at hand. It was easier to not stop until you were finished and could curl up and sleep and not think about blood and war and Zarkon.

“We have Galra allies,” Allura answers diplomatically, leaving the issue of the half Galra paladin alone.

It irked you.

“No, not them,” Soedob notes. “Those had a different aura.”

“Smell,” you guess, finishing off. You hoped the fighting ended soon. You supply was not unlimited. The castle had better facilities.

“Is that what you call it?”

“Our primary sense is sight,” Allura explains, giving you a long look.

You shrug. You hadn’t even seen any of Lotor and his team. There hadn’t been time. It had all been relayed over coms, over video.

“Another then?”

You swallow thickly, flushing with embarrassment because you both spent time around Keith but Soedob was only smelling him on you and it’s not like you had been doing anything intimate…well, it had felt intimate, hugging Keith, but it wasn’t anything like when cadets snuck into each others dorm room, shoving a sock on the door handle in the universal symbol of don’t bother us. “The red paladin is part Galra.” Mercifully, your voice doesn’t shake from the embarrassment, but you can’t look at Allura.

“Ah,” Soedob nods, neither outraged nor pleased.

Then there’s no more time, you have more Talpidaes waiting for medical aid. You give their own healers some of your supplies, freeing up Allura to find the clan leaders.

You can feel Allura’s questioning glance on you.

——————

“Team meeting in the mess hall,” Shiro calls over the coms system.

“Mess hall,” Pidge rolls her eyes, “it’s the dining room.”

You snort.

“I like to think of it as the dining room too,” Hunk offers. “I mean there’s only eight of us. It’s sort of like being home again.”

“Mess hall makes me think of the garrison,” you admit, falling into step besides them. “and the food.”

“Ugh,” Pidge groans. “That was the worst. Matt wasn’t kidding.”

“It does make the space packs easier to digest,” you muse, “maybe that was the point.” It took the garrison two years to get to Mars. It was funny, once you’d thought that was a long way from home.

“I liked the cheese garlic bread,” Hunk allows.

“Food goo,” Pidge grins, “or the garrison space food?”

“Food goo.” Hunk doesn’t even have to think.

“Food goo,” you agree. “Though not Coran’s paladin special.”

“You don’t even eat that,” Hunk huffs, half outraged half amused, “you’re always like well I’m not a paladin so…”

You laugh. “Seeing it is more than enough.”

The rest of the ship’s inhabitants are already there waiting for you. Lance is trying to teach Coran how to play slide, moving very slow as he claps their hands together.

Shiro and Allura are in easy conversation. Her mice scamper around her feet.

Keith looks absolutely miserable next to Shiro, folding himself into the smallest possible size, trying to disappear. It was hard to reconcile the Keith that was quiet with the Red Paladin that shot first and asked questions later.

You smile at him, excited to see him, but also figuring he could use some reassurance, whatever it was going through his head. Keith meets your gaze and the corners of his mouth turn up, before he ducks away.

You know better than to take it personally.

It was Keith.

Your toes curl inside your shoes and you bite back your smile, suddenly aware of how much you might be revealing and not wanting Lance of all people to start a meeting by commenting on it. For him, it might be all fun and games, but you weren’t sure what to do with these newfound warm and fuzzy feelings. You sure as fuck didn’t want to be called out on it.

You weren’t sure what to do about liking Keith so your current plan of action was: nothing.

“Thank you everyone for being here,” Shiro claps his hands together, his leader impression defaulted at awkward dad. He thought he always had to be on. Despite being the most trained out of us, he’d only just started his career during the Kerberos mission.

You wonder if he’d picked up his leadership style partly from Pidge’s dad.

“Where else would we be,” Pidge shrugs, never one to miss a shot.

“All the same,” the older man smiles.

“Yeah, no problem my dude, bro,” Lance flashes finger guns at Shiro.

You snort, taking a seat between him and Hunk.

“But seriously, what’s up,” Lance leans forward. “Or is this some lowkey way to keep us on our toes,” he winks at Allura who smiles indulgently.

“I await the news alongside you paladins,” Allura answers, hands resting in her lap. She looks over at Shiro.

The whole room turns to look at Shiro.

He had called the meeting.

Meetings tended to be informational in nature: updates about the expansive war, rebels hailing Voltron for intervention, the Blade passing on the rare bit of information, and the always popular distress signals. But Shiro and Allura both looked too calm for that.

Keith goes rigid, a spring wound up too tight.

Hm.

You wondered if the elephant in the room would finally be addressed.

Shiro puts his hand on Keith’s shoulder, smiling encouragingly the way a parent dropping their child off for their first day of school would, “go ahead Keith.”

The red paladin focuses his gaze on Shiro, his expression more sour than it’s been in a long time.

The past few years had done a lot to get him to open up to everyone on board, but right now, he looks exactly like the stubborn closed off cadet he had been back on Earth.

His ears twitch slightly. He manages to look even more taunt, and you wonder if he’s going to wave this off. Then, he lets out a breath.

His body is stiff, but Keith no longer pulls away from Shiro. He looks down at his hands pensively, nails cut to the quick. “Right.”

You can feel the nervous energy of the rest of the room, leaning in, waiting to see what Keith wants to say.

“Mhm, go on,” Lance says, chin in hand.

Hunk elbows him in the side.

“Hey!” Lance is about to start in on Hunk.

“Guys,” you snap, shoving Lance’s shoulder.

“Okay, okay,” Lance zips his mouth and throws away the key, “shutting up.”

“Looks like that didn’t work,” Pidge snarks.

“Paladins,” Allura’s clear commanding voice rings out. When everyone shuts up again, she nods at Keith, “you may continue.”

He looks up at everyone through his bangs, “I’m going through Galra settling.”

Hunk looks over at Allura, who was far more familiar with all this alien mumble jumble than anyone else.

Shiro squeezes Keith’s shoulder.

“And that is,” you prompt gently, before Keith hastily decided that was all he needed to say and left.

He meets your waiting gaze. Under the ship’s bright rooms, his eyes were obviously violet, heavy on the purple. He’s chewing his bottom lip like he isn’t sure he wants to go through with saying any of this and you wonder if he must be thinking of how weird things were between everyone when he learned of the alien part of his heritage.

Your mouth quirks up into a smile.

You were more than willing to stuff someone into a cryopod if they bothered Keith. He may be part of Voltron, tasked with defending the universe, but you’d make sure there was someone to defend him.

An embarrassing rush of heat bubbles under your skin. You look away, nervous.

“Shiro,” Keith asks.

Shiro nods, wrapping his arms fully around Keith’s shoulder. “Galra settling is when Galra,” he looked like he was trying to figure out exactly what he was talking about as he said it. Aliens were weird. “When Galra reach a certain age their appearance locks in.” Even Shiro looks a little puzzled. He was a pilot, not a biologist. You knew organisms back on earth who could manipulate their genotypes, generally sex changes with the right environmental conditions, but you weren’t sure there was anything comparable to whatever this was. “The Galra are apparently very adaptable in individuals. That’s why there’s such a range of them.”

Huh.

That explained the fur, range of tails, more reptilian looking once, and the eyes.

You wanted a Galra biology course, a full semester long one. What exactly caused such a plasticity in their phenotype? Did the trait have to be encoded in their genotype to appear or was there something freakier, Allura’s space magic, going on?

“-because he’s half human and we don’t go through anything like this it’s more painful than it would be. Lotor said the chameleonic abilities of Alteans helped him when he went through this,” Shiro finishes without a satisfying or thorough explanation.

At least Keith wasn’t dying.

Thank god.

Thank whatever freaky Altean magic existed in the universe.

“So,” Lance starts, “it’s Galra puberty.”

In a split second Keith loses any self consciousness about the situation, “it’s not Galra puberty!” His hair puffs up and you have to fight the urge to laugh, covering your face with your hands.

“There’s…” Shiro glances at Keith, before Lance and Keith could really get into it, “there’s more.”

Keith looks mullish, but ultimately gives Shiro the go ahead.

“Part of these..changes,” the black paladin explains, “have brought out some Galra instincts.” Clearly he was having as much trouble grappling with what this meant as Keith was. Your body suddenly deciding to change was no fun when you had no context for it. “Among them, the need to scent family…”

Pidge tilts her head, “is this like the most convoluted and emotionally constipated way of asking for a hug,” she asks Keith.

Keith smiles wryly, “pretty much.”

“Oh come here dude,” Hunk grins, engulfing Keith and Shiro in a hug.

“Ah number four,” Coran points up in the air, “I am now just recalling the galra that lived on Altea having explained this once, of course it didn’t occur to me because of the apparent dominance of your human genes.”

“So they’re actually co-dominant,” you muse as Lance drags Pidge along for a “group hug!”

“No.no,” Pidge makes a half-hearted effort to wiggle out, being a younger sibling herself, was used to being subjected to affection. She smiles even as she struggles.

“It would seem so,” Coran nods, “though not every gene.”

“Just these.” You wonder if there’s a space equivalent of the human genome project.

“Lance,” Keith yelps, “that’s my foot.”

“Buddy, I am not feeling the love here.”

“Is it working,” Hunk asks, peering at Keith, “are you going to turn purple now?”

“No one turns purple from hugs,” Keith replies, annoyed but makes no move to pull away.

“Thank you for trusting us with this Keith,” Allura smiles, her eyes crinkling.

“Get in on this too Princess,” Shiro motions over, before catching your gaze, “you too. Don’t think you can get out of this. You’re part of Voltron too.”

You snort, and join the group hug.

Pidge’s elbow is a bony thorn in your side and there’s the slight hum from Shiro’s prosthetic, but it’s a good mix of warmth and intimacy with the people you were closest to in the entire universe. Allura’s shoulder presses into you back and it’s sort of ballooned to ridiculous proportions, Keith somewhere in the center of it all, his hair barely visible to you.

“Add cuddling Keith to the chore wheel,” Pidge proposes.

Keith groans.

“How about we let Keith decide,” Shiro proposes.

You snort, knowing him too well. “Are you willing to take that risk? Died-from lack of hugs.”

Lance laughs.

Shiro looks convinced by your stellar argument.

“I’m not that bad,” Keith grumbles.

“You’re a terrible hugger,” Lance argues back. “You’re all stiff, like you’re enduring one of Iverson’s paradox sims. Not as bad as my abuelo but still.”

Keith lunges for Lance.

Someone topples over.

Everyone falls.

You laugh, smothered by limps and someone’s hair in your mouth…maybe Hunk’s? You don’t move, worried about kicking someone’s head.

From somewhere, Keith does that low rumbling chest noise that reminds you of a cat purring happily.

No one makes fun of him for it.

——————

“You should comb your hair before we take the pod down,” you tell Keith. You’d spent your free time before this alliance dinner scrolling through a datapad, trying to learn names, where they hailed from, species, things that may prove useful.

Half a varga ago, Keith had found you balled up on a sofa, and sat next to you, his way of asking for physical comfort. You’d obliged him readily, throwing an arm over his shoulders and spooning him as you both laid on the sofa. He was already in the paladin uniforms that Allura had dug out once the alliance became a reality instead of a loose string of rebel groups fighting the Galra empire.

You’re both short and slight, fitting together perfectly.

You squash any feelings you have, this wasn’t about you, it was about him. You’d done it a thousand times with Hunk or Lance, fallen asleep listening to Allura, why should Keith be any different? (You know why.)

He’s reading the screen with you.

“I doubt they’d notice,” he remarks as you scroll to a particularly vivid color alien race with sensory appendages sprouting from their heads.

“You have a point desert bum,” you tease, “I’d rather be a bum by a beach town. All surfer bro.”

“Can you even surf,” he asks flatly.

“No. Learned how to swim at the garrison,” you admit. “But tanning by the water has to be more appealing than roasting under the Texas sun.”

“I like the desert.”

“I know.” You were pretty sure everyone just liked their homes.

“It’s quiet,” he admits, “and watching how the sunlight transforms the landscape…”

“It’s too big and wide,” you admit, thinking of space. Flat land that went on forever…empty dark space that went on forever.

“Good for driving,” Keith smirks.

You laugh. Or course that’s where his mind went. “Sure, but it all looks the same, everywhere you turn.” It was disorienting. To be fair, you were a city girl. Your background noise was cars honking and people yelling even at four in the morning. The garrison had been a big adjustment.

“It’s really not. You just have to look.”

“I’ll trust my gps,” you counter, “not my sense of direction. I’d probably end up one of those cautionary tales about mirages and deserts.”

“You can’t really get a good signal,” Keith replies lazily, his body slack against yours, “out there. It’s best to mark a trail with chalk if you don’t know the area.”

“But you do, know it I mean?”

“Out past the Garrison? Mhm. All of it. We used to go hiking…before,” he trails off.

You press your lips to his hair lightly, before shifting, “my arms asleep.”

“Sorry.”

“I don’t mind.” You sit up, “it’s nice. I used to put my sister to sleep this one year she had nightmares almost every night.”

“You miss her,” Keith states, sitting up, looking at you with his intense expression. Having someone focused one hundred percent on you was a new experience. He wasn’t thinking of a thousand other things, just you.

“I do. I miss everyone, but,” you shrug, “I’ll see them again. Meanwhile you’re stuck with me.” You smile fondly at Keith. “I’m going to change before we have to go to dinner.”

“I’d take fighting Zarkon anyday,” Keith mutters, cringing at the upcoming show of diplomacy. There was so much smiling and hand shaking. It was exhausting to be that extroverted with a roomful of strangers.

Even Lance zonked out after these things.

“Knock on wood,” you laugh.

_____________

Treaties have been signed. A wrecked Galra fleet floats in space above the planet your on today, but today’s battle is won.

One of Lotor’s General’s is here, Acza. She’s wary, and surprised at the warm reception she’d received. She might be Galra, but she’d been crucial in taking down the Galra base’s shields. Biolocks, Zarkon should really rethink those.

You sip at your thick drink, warm and flavored like cinnamon oatmeal, that chases off the chill of the night. The idea had been to sleep, your hands still ached from all the sutures and stitches you’d woven, but Allura refused to hear it, dragging you along. There would be time for sleep on the Castle, she’d claimed, joyous to have helped another besieged planet.

“My congratulations,” a Blade utters from behind their glowing mask.

You jump, not having known there was even a Blade here. They were allies, yet their anonymity that made them so useful in information gathering, created a gap between you. You had no way of knowing who this person was. Their suit obscuring any details, the mask a rank.

You couldn’t even see their eyes.

“For what,” you ask, puzzled. You hadn’t fought. Your skills made you most useful after the battle, trying to save lives and patch up wounds. It was important and emotional draining work, but you hardly won battles.

Because of the mask, you can’t get a read on their reaction. Blades. Spies. Maybe if you could see their eyes…

They nod, and walk off without explanation.

You watch them go, still confused until they disappear among the bodies loitering around, celebrating liberation.

It was a feat to disappear when you were eight feet tall.

First the Galra had avoided you like the plague, the black plague, now they were being cryptic as fuck.

You lean your head down, trying to sniff your armpits without making it too obvious. Was it the blood? Or the space bleach? That tended to linger.

You didn’t smell that bad. Certainly like bleach and rubbing alcohol…

You take another sip of your drink, looking around for a place to sit. You’d been on your feet for too long. You wanted to sleep.

Someone would find you.

You wander around. Smiling when someone notices you, and thanks you and you hurry to get away before they ask you a hundred questions. There were only eight humans in space. Well, seven and a half. You stood out.

They wanted Voltron, but you would do.

“There’s space here,” Acxa calls out.

“Thanks,” you plop down next to her, sagging into the seat. Oh, yeah, you were so freaking tired.

“Of course. You look dead.”

“Yeah,” you look around the rebel camp, “I’ve no clue how they have the energy.”

“It’s like that everywhere. This is their home,” Acza offers, “people fight hard for their homes.”

You nod, before looking over at the alien woman, “not avoiding me anymore then?”

She shrugs, not disputing the allegation. “No need anymore, now that you and Keith sorted yourselves out.” She’s so blunt about it. “Galra are so sensitive when settling. We didn’t want to cause any incidents.”

“Is this about the scenting?” You still hadn’t had time to read through the information you’d gotten your grubby little hands on.

She nods.

You put your drink down on the mossy ground. “Yeah, Keith explained it. Well, Shiro did, really. Lance is over the moon about having an excuse to bother Keith.” Now you really all were a family. You’d named it outloud.

Acxa’s brows furrow, “Lance?”

“I think he just misses his family a lot,” you offer. “We all do and while we’re family too, it’d be nice to see our family back on earth too.”

She frowns. “Keith and you are not,” she asks slowly.

“Me and Keith,” you flush, ducking away from her. “No-I, no. We’re not.” You should’ve gone back to the Castle the moment Allura turned her back. She would’ve never known.

Acxa’s frown becomes tinged with anger and worry, her hand grabs your wrist. “Galra have more than one type of scenting, between families, and between partners.”

“Oh.”

You try to connect the dots but your brain gets stuck between ideas. Scenting. Keith. You. You and Keith. It was right there but-

“Keith isn’t marking you as family,” she explains slowly, “he’s marking you as his partner.” Acxa waits until her words sink in before adding, “to do so without letting the other know…” She makes it clear what a social taboo that is.

But you’re one step behind her.

Did Keith like you?

You think back to all the times you’d been with him in the past few vargas, trying to pinpoint any hint: he’d smiled at you but he was happier now in general so it could be a coincidence…

“If you need,” Acxa offers, “I will help clarify the situation.” It’s an awfully kind gesture.

“No,” you say in a rush. “no. It’s-I think I need to go talk to Keith.” He’d known what he was doing…you could draw a thousand conclusions but nothing would be better than confronting him about it.

“If you’re sure.”

“I am,” you stand up, glancing around. During parties, Keith tended to find a quiet corner out of the way. He’d opened up, but he was still more of an introvert.

You find Keith lying stretched out in the shadow of a makeshift building, looking up at the stars. It’s his eyes that give him away, reflecting the light enough to be inhuman, nocturnal vision.

“We need to talk,” you wrap your arms around your body. You weren’t angry, just confused. Didn’t he know he could just come talk to you about it by now?  

Keith looks up, startled, then stands. “Alright.” He sounds resigned, a man sentenced to detention for a month which was janitorial duties at the garrison. It kept even the most smartass cadets humble.

You look around.

No one was really here. You could hear the music and people a bit further into the heart of the camp. Here was good enough.

“I talked to Acxa,” you start, “she said-” you look down at the trampled vegetation underfoot. It was embarrassing to your human preconceptions to even think, let alone say, which was why you were pretty sure Keith didn’t mean any harm. Scenting meant nothing on earth, where he’d grown up. “She said you’ve been scenting me, which like I know but not that way?” You look up at him as realization sets in and he ducks his head, looking away. “Is it true?”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “I-,” he takes a deep breath before ranting, the agitation and months of buried emotions flooding out, “I hate this. I hate that I can hear the conversation outside and smell which direction  Shiro’s in and how much my eyes hurt on the Castle from how bright it is but I don’t-I can’t say anything because I’m already enough of a freak. Before I was just the weird kid but now I’m just a fucking alien freak! There’s always so much going on and I don’t even know what’s next!”

You wait, wondering if there was more.

It was a lot of changes.

You couldn’t understand, there was nothing in your life comparable to your biology deciding to be a little more Galra after twenty years.

“And I tried not to-,” he admits, meeting your waiting gaze, “I tried to leave everyone alone so you wouldn’t,” Keith swallows, forcing himself to continue with an obvious disgust at himself, “you wouldn’t smell like me or whatever Lotor explained but I couldn’t-it was driving me crazy like this itch, this buzzing under my skull and seeing you guys with others-I thought I was going crazy until Lotor explained. And then when Lance would ruffle my hair or you would check that I wasn’t about to fall over and die and-,” he waves his hands in the air, “I would just zone out.”

“Oh,” you utter, recalling past events with a newfound understanding. Keith had been reaching out, all instinct even when he was trying not to be a bother. It broke your heart, how he always came from the perspective that he was an inconvenience.

“I did know,” he says in a small voice. “That-you…but I don’t know if it’s me or this, or all these things happening to me.”

Your expression wobbles. You bite your lower lip, trying to get a handle on it. How silly to worry about a crush when Keith was going through it.

“I like you, but I don’t know if I like you or if it’s just these stupid Galra instincts messing with my head.” Keith deflates, drawing into himself. “Everything

s…it’s been a lot.”

“I get it,” you utter, “maybe not the situation but I’m not mad. Though Acxa was ready to kick your ass and she totally could,” you try teasing.

But Keith flinches, looking away guiltily.

“I’m joking. I-I get why. It makes sense. It’s a lot to get used to.” You swallow, not sure what to do about anything either.

“Its a huge offence,” Keith utters, “that’s why she was pissed. Made worse because you can’t even tell…I-I couldn’t think straight and I…it took the edge off.”

“Scenting me?”

He nods.

You take a step towards him.

“I-,” Keith’s eyes meet yours, his attention entirely captivated by you. It sends a thrill down your spine. You’d seen how he could be when laser focused: on piloting, on training. “I know they say it’s wrong but you and Lance do stuff like that all the time. And I thought…I figured I could figure out how much of what I’m feeling is me and how much of it are these new instincts.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you tell him. “I-you’re right, it’s whatever to me. Like, a Blade congratulated me earlier which was weird but fuck them you know? I can ‘smile and nod’,” you smile as fakely as possible to show what you mean, “through it so long as you’re okay.” He’d bled in your lap.

Keith looks a little unsteady, unsure what to do with your lack of anger. “You don’t-”

“So is it like galra marriage then?” You were curious as to what exactly the Blades were going to gossip about you and Keith.

He makes a choked sound. “Sort of. They bond. It can be broken but that generally means someone killed the other.”

“Let me guess,” you reply, “Zarkon fucked even that up.”

Keith nods.

“That guy’s the worst.” Your voice is light.

Keith snorts, smiling for a split second. “I won’t anymore. I’ll-”

“Keith,” your voice cracks as you out your hand on his arm to keep him from rubbing off, “if its really causing you all this additional confusion in too of everything…you can…” the words were too intimate to say, too charged with a sensuality that he clearly was figuring out. You were willing to wait. For him.

He was conflicted enough without you dumping your feelings on him.

“You don’t-”

You raise your hand, caressing the side of his face with the back of your hand, ghosting over the purple mark on his cheek, “I don’t mind.” Sure, you had a crush on him, you could admit that much, but more simply, you loved him.

This was a small ask.

Your gaze flickers to the tips of his ears.

You had washed his blood off your hands.

“Besides, shit’s hard enough. My arm falling asleep is a small price to pay if I can help you.”

Keith’s mouth quirks up in a smile.

You laugh, “come here.”

It finally sinks in that you weren’t just talking bs. You meant it, as you hug Keith, wrapping your arms around his middle. He smelled good in spite of the battle he’d been through earlier.

Without really thinking, you breathe in the scent of him.

Keith hugs you back, cuddling you against his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You yawn. “want to sneak back into the castle?”

“Only if you tell Allura you’re the one who wanted to leave,” he deadpans dazedly.

You laugh.

——————

“Come,” Allura motions as you stand from one of the Castle’s weapons systems, “we must meet with the rebel leadership on planet.”

The planet was a farming camp.

The slaves were overworked and underfed and they had still revolted when they learned Voltron was near. Now, they were free.

“Princess,” Coran calls out, “it appears that number four is heading back to the ship.”

A pained expression crosses Allura’s broad features, her full mouth frowning, before she decides to pick her battles for the day. “I am sure Keith has a good reason for his actions.” She sounds like she’s trying to convince herself.

You don’t want to go down there either.

This entire last week had been spent synthesizing medicine and treating thousands of people made harder by the range of species. The garrison better give you that medical degree immediately.

“I’ll go check on him,” you say automatically, “he might need me to prep a pod.”

“Fantastic idea number five,” Coran believes your excuse.

“Let us know if anything happens,” Allura says, giving you a long look, before heading for the exit.

The central Galra soldiers had been taken out, but small bands of fighters were still fighting to their last breath. It’s why Voltron has remained on the planet.

The lions had roamed the landscape answering calls for aid and hunting down the last of Zarkon’s forces here.

You meet Keith in the red lion’s hanger.

He’s popping his helmet off, running a hand through his flattened hair. “I thought you were headed out with Allura?”

You shrug, suddenly feeling awkward. “I was, but I wanted to check on you first.” That was a normal thing to do for your friends. There was no reason to overthink things.

“I’m fine.”

He sets the helmet aside, working on undoing the armor off. There was dirt and dust but thankfully no blood to speak of, his or otherwise.

“Then I’ll see you there,” you ask.

Keith looks over, a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar, his smile slight when he replies, “I’m not heading there.” Blunt. Concise.

“It is depressing,” you admit. There was so much resource allocation and need planet-wide.

He raises a brow. “Oh. Yeah.”

“Keith?” Now you’re wondering what the real problem was. “What is it?”

“Does it matter. I don’t need to be there. Shiro and Allura can handle it.” He looks away, suddenly very interested in the wall. Unlike the rest of the ship, the red lion’s hanger was dim, in a permanent night cycle.

Pidge’s work.

“I think the people would like all of Voltron present.” Then you make a face, “oh god, I sound just like Allura don’t I?”

Keith laughs, “just a bit. As long as you don’t make us all meditate…”

“It’s so boring. I fall asleep.” You smile softly, “Seriously, go down for a moment. Then you can hide out here.”

“I-I’d rather not.” He shifts uncomfortably. “Four out of five is is fine.”

“I’m sure they’ll understand,” you agree.

“I’m sure they’ll be glad.”

“Keith-” you start, knowing he already felt hyper aware of how his appearance had changed. Before, it hadn’t really ever come up outside of the team. No one would tell and if Keith wasn’t vocal about it…now everyone in the entire universe probably knew.

There were rebel Galra, mostly in prisons and work camps. Feelings varied.

“That’s not true,” you say, not sure if it was true, “you helped free them.” You shift your weight onto your other foot, “there’s a few assholes everywhere.”

He gives you a long look. “The Galra enslaved all these people.”

“Pfft,” you wave off, “you look like one sixteenth Galra. And-”

���They stare.”

“Because you’re a paladin,” you reason. “Pidge is also cranky about the attention.”

Keith sighs.

The paladin armor lies in a discarded pile.

You step forward to him, “anyone would be lucky to have you as a pilot. And Voltron sort of lucked out when the red lion chose you.”

Keith’s eyes widen as he looks at you, pink dusting his cheeks.

In for a penny, in for a pound, you lean forward and kiss his cheek, ghosting over his skin, “face marks and all.” You can’t meet his gaze when you pull away, blushing fiercely.

Why did you do that!

God, you were so dumb-

He cups your cheeks and brushes his lips over yours.

Oh! Oh.

“Is-is this okay-,” Keith starts asking.

You feel giddy, smiling before kissing him. Yeah, it was okay.

[tarantula-hawk-wasp]

putting my gushing under the cut 

literally everything 

keith and hunk joking at the party  Lance’s homesickness making a big appearance (hunk’s too)  Pidge’s determination and loyalty to her family. Also Pidge’s peanuts and sweat ramble.  Shiro’s paranoia about when the next Galra attack will be and like He’s RIGHT  the interpersonal drama over Pidge leaving and Shiro saying they’ll respect her choice but asking her to think about it, after Keith gets shouty.  SENDAK ugh love that mean purple asshole  the Sendak and Shiro fight is SOOOOOOOOO ugh when they punch their glowing purple fists against each other and its against the moon UGH that is ART to me  and the end of that fight with their hands at each other’s throats in a stalemate until Lance is threatened UGH tropes i love Lance and Coran bonding i love them both  Hunk showcasing why he’s the compassionate yellow lion with the Balmerans!   I love Shay so much I love her voice I lover her design I think shes sooo neat  Rover slaps but also RIP  Pidge having to infiltrate the castle- her new home- such a good trope in general  Hunk and Coran and the Balmera is the kind of worldbuilding i love in Voltron and theyre a fun duo. and both so compassionate.  When Pidge gets on the comm and then Sendak has her “speak” to Shiro who barely manages to say “Pidge don’t-” dont listen? don’t give in? who knows bc then he gets electro shock tortured. and like Shiro doesn’t scream at most other injuries so YEESH that just UGH  THEN the fight with Sendak at the end!!!!  Pidge getting grabbed by his giant robot hand!! and keith and Allura showing up!  Lance waking up to fire one shot and then collapse and then Shiro trying to be a distraction despite his hands being bound and running to headbutt? Sendak and getting punched flying. UGH HE!!! and when Keith and Pidge cut off Sendak’s arm!! And the FACE the SNARL the RAGE when Sendak charges right after that!!!  ANd then they defeat him!!!    which leads to my other favorite scene of the season several episodes later when sendak has his its me boy im the galra speaking to you inside your mind moment  then!!  the keith and lance Guess We Do Make A Good Team. Also in that scene the looks Pidge and Shiro give each other are very important to me be there is definitely some trauma to discuss there about torture and pidge losing rover and probably her first face to face kill.  episodes of media of all time for me!!!!!! i keep rewatching them !!!! everything to me!!!!

Might have to rewatch my two favorite episodes of vld (fall of the castle of lions and tears of the balmera) for a 4th time in 49 hours because I cannot stop thinking about how much I love them

Literally just episodes composed of things that appeal to me personally

[the-kittens-of-vol-tron]

Lance earning Krolia's approval for Keith?? Mayhaps?? 👀

i RAN to write this

Thank you sm

I kinda went on my own side tangent I hope you like it :0

Also I wrote this as established klance

Trigger Warnings: Injuries, mention of blood

-----

Lance's eyes widen at the galran standing in front of them. Standing next to Keith.

"Everyone, this is Krolia. She's my mom." Keith shifted a bit under everyone's gaze and Lance felt his mouth go dry. Everyone began introductions, Shiro shaking her hand firmly. She seemed excited to meet him; no doubt Keith had told her all about him. The mentoring he did, how he took Keith under his wing, how he was basically his brother now.

Lance found himself shifting his weight between his feet, waiting for her to finally get to him. His hands felt sweaty under his gloves and he kept swallowing around the dryness in his throat.

Saying that Lance was scared to meet Krolia was an understatement; he was petrified. Due to how their life was playing out he didn't think meeting his boyfriend's mom was something he had to worry about. He didn't even have time to prepare himself.

She turned to face him finally, her expression a bit unreadable. "Mom, this is Lance. My boyfriend."

Lance extended his hand, "nice to meet you," he knew he sounded frazzled. He could feel everyone's eyes on him, but he pushed them all aside.

Why couldn't this have happened in private? Where his biggest worry was if his shirt was buttoned right and his hair looked nice. In a different reality, they would be on Earth, meeting at a slightly out-of-budget restaurant. Lance would sit next to Keith, holding his hand under the table while Krolia asked him questions about his hobbies and future goals.

But this wasn't that reality and he was meeting her in his paladin gear, his hair greasy with sweat, clingy to his forehead, and sticking up in multiple directions. He knew there was some dirt on his face, they just got back from a tough mission.

She grabbed his hand with more force than he anticipated. It wasn't enough to hurt him but enough to show that she could hurt him if she wanted.

"Nice to meet you, Lance. It's good to have a face to the name." She dropped his hand, crossing her arms, her eyes scanning him up and down. "Keith has told me a lot about you."

"Awe Keith, were you gushing about me?" Lance elbowed Keith from where he stood next to him.

Keith didn't respond, just slipped his hand into Lance's.

Krolia watched the engagement between the two and gave what appeared to be a stiff smile. "Well, I look forward to meeting you a bit better," she looked at everyone else. "All of you."

Getting to know Krolia was more intimidating than Lance expected. He had met some of his ex's parents before but those were quick moments. Picking a girl up before prom, getting a ride from a boy's dad, simple meetings. And never while he was dating someone he actually saw a future with. Someone who he laid awake at night thinking about proposing to.

He had moments where it was just the two of them. She was enjoying a cup of what Lance dubbed "Space Tea" and Lance would stumble in looking for some breakfast. Instead of taking the moment to impress her, he who do a 180 and leave as fast as he could.

He needed to impress her, he wanted to make her know that he was worthy of being with her son. But she always had that emotionless face around him. A face he couldn't decipher if she was happy with him or wanted him out of his son's life.

"I'm telling you, babe, she doesn't like me." Lance paced in front of the bed in their shared room. His fingers intertwined in his hair.

Keith watched his movement from their bed, Kosmo sitting next to him fast asleep.

"Lance, she doesn't hate you."

He paused his pacing for a moment. "I said doesn't like. You said doesn't hate. Ohmygod she doesn't like me," he borderline melted into the floor, his body rocking back and forth from where he sat.

Keith slid off the bed and walked over to him, slinking down next to him. "Come here," he opened his arms and let his boyfriend crawl into his lap. He wrapped his arms around him and Lance buried his face into his neck.

"I don't think my mom knows what to think of you. She still getting to know me and now I'm immediately introducing her to my boyfriend. I think it's just a lot for her to take in." Keith planted a kiss on Lance's shoulder.

Lance nodded, "I want her to like me."

"Hey," Keith pulled back as far as he could from where he sat against the bed. "Look at me."

Lance forced himself to sit up, meeting Keith's galaxy's eyes.

"I like you okay? You're who I want to be with. I fell in love with you. Through all your terrible jokes,"

Lance laughed.

Keith smiled, "you witty comebacks, you can come up with a plan on the fly, and there is just so much I love about you I could sit here all night as still not have enough time."

Lance wiped his eyes. "I guess so."

Keith frowned, "would I lie to you?"

"No."

"Okay. I love you and I want my mom in my life but if she doesn't want you then," he pulled Lance in for another tight hug. "I've lived this long without her."

Lance nodded, he needed to make sure she liked him no matter what.

It was a slow process, mostly because Lance couldn't bring himself to ever have a conversation with just them. Even with the group, he still didn't speak unless spoken to.

"Lance."

He froze in his tracks, turning around slowly to see Krolia standing at the end of the hallway he had just come from. "Oh, h-hey Krolia. What's up?" The sweat was back.

She walked closer to him, her body relaxed. That's a good sign, right? "I was wondering if we could have a conversation."

Lance found himself nodding a bit too quickly, "a conversation? Yeah, whatever you want. What did you want to talk about?"

She gave him another stiff smile, "let's go somewhere to sit."

That was how Lance found himself perched on one of the couches on the lounge, Krolia sitting on the other side of him. Nobody else was around, Keith was training with Shiro, Allura and Coran were discussing new alliances, and Pidge and Hunk were doing something. It was just Lance and the one woman he was scared of.

"So tell me about yourself."

"Well um, I'm the youngest of five. I like the color blue. Y’know blue pilot for the blue lion, which is good since I like the color blue."

She raised her eyebrows at him and he cleared his throat. Already nervous rambling, great start Lance, he silently cursed at himself. 

"I like the ocean, which is a big body of water on Earth."

She nodded, "I'm familiar."

"Right, right, right, with living there and stuff with Keith's dad. Well, I like space, I thought I would be older before I made my way to space though."

She sat back in the couch a bit more. "When did you and Keith get together? He wasn't very upfront with details."

"Oh! Like almost two years. I had a crush on him since the Garrison but I was convinced he didn't even like me. I guess I was wrong since he was pinning for me the entire time he knew me."

"Who asked who out?"

Lance hummed in thought, "it was kind of mutual. We just decided we were dating."

"What do you like most about him?"

Lance began tapping his fingers against his upper thighs. This was starting to feel like an interrogation, which was something he was nervous about. "Where do I start? He kind, even if he shows it through bluntness. He's so smart and brave and loyal and...yeah I could go on for hours."

She nodded her head very slowly, "and you want to build a life with him?"

Lance nodded, "of course I do. He's one of the most important people to me."

"I see."

An uncomfortable silence bloomed between them. Lance wanted to break it but no words would come. She eventually disrupted the silence by herself, asking a question Lance wasn't prepared to answer.

"And you think you make him happy?"

He blinked a couple of times, "I mean I hope I do."

"I hope you do too."

Lance left that conversation with a bitter taste in his mouth, hiding under the bedsheets, waiting for a black hole to swallow him whole.

He knew he wasn't on his A game, he was making small mistakes every hour or so. He wasn’t paying attention to small details. His mind was swarming around what Krolia said. How do I know if I'm making him happy? I can't read his mind. What if he's not happy with me and he's lying to me? He scrubbed the shampoo out of his hair, turning off the shower right as the alarms started blaring. Oh, this is just great.

He was the last one into his lion, he had to dry off and get dressed but he quickly joined formation as soon as he could.

"Paladins, this looks like you need to be on the ship to take down this laser." Coran's voice crackled over their coms.

"Alright, Hunk and I will stay up here and protect you from the air, Pidge stay with your lion and sneak up on any canons you can. Keith and Lance head down there and take this weapon out. Remember this has destroyed planets with one shot. Be vigilant and be quick, watch each other's backs." Shiro commanded the team around and everyone quickly fell into their positions.

Lance covered Keith with his gun while Keith lead them through the windy hallways of the ship. Things were going smooth, they were almost to the laser, and the others were watching them from the sky. It was a perfect mission.

Until it wasn't. Someone snuck by Lance's scope, somebody who neither of them saw until his sword was dug into Keith's gut. He crumbled quickly, a shout dying on his lips.

"Keith!?" Lance aimed quickly, taking down the Galran with one shot. "Shit shit shit," he kneeled down next to his boyfriend. "Guys Keith was hurt," he pressed his hands to the open wound, ignoring how red covered his fingers.

"How bad?" Krolia's voice crackled over the coms. Concern dripped off her voice.

"Bad, but a pod can fix him. Shiro do you have our location?"

"Yes."

"Someone come get him, I can get the laser," he wanted to wipe his eyes but he couldn’t take his helmet off. He focused on applying more pressure to the wound.

"Change of plans, Pidge get to the laser, Hunk cover her! I'm getting Lance and Keith."

Lance felt himself respond to Shiro but he didn't know what he said. "You're going to be okay Keith. I promise."

Keith blinked up at him, he could tell his consciousness was fading in and out. "Lance?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm right here."

"I love you."

Lance smiled, leaning down to place his helmet against his, still applying pressure to the wound. "I love you too."

"Marry me?"

Lance found himself laughing a bit, "I think you stole my line."

Keith shook his head, as much as he could. "I think it's my line."

Lance could hear the black lion starting to dig through the metal of the ship. "After we get you in a pod and you're not bleeding all over me let's talk about it."

"Okay," he closed his eyes again, "Lance?"

"Yeah baby?"

"My mom does like you."

Lance opened his mouth to respond but the black lion broke through the final piece. "Lance! Can you carry Keith?"

"Yeah hang on." He picked up his boyfriend as smoothly as he could and ran into the open jaws of the black lion. The rest of the mission passed in a blur. Lance could only focus on getting Keith into a pod. Krolia met them in the lion's bay, taking over carrying her son to the pod.

Lance was exhausted, the adrenaline leaving him as soon as Keith's weight was no longer in his arms. He wanted to chase after him, he needed to be there but his legs buckled under him and Shiro caught him as he went down.

"Lance, I need to go help Pidge and Hunk, are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, I just need a moment."

Shiro nodded, "Allura can you come get Lance in the bay? I think he exserted all his energy."

"Of course!"

"Okay Lance, we'll be back soon." Shiro reentered his lion, taking off as quickly as he landed.

Allura appeared a couple of moments later. She took off Lance's helmet, helping him stand. "Keith is in a pod, he's going to be okay."

"Thank god," he knew tears were falling down his face but he didn't care. He let her take him to the communal showers, spraying down his armor of the red color. The team returned soon after, the Red and Blue lions flying themselves back. The mission was a success.

He returned to his bedroom, snapping his armor off quickly. It was second nature at this point. He dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a loose fitting tee-shirt. He needed to go down and see Keith. His stomach turned a bit at the thought. If he paid a bit more attention this situation would have never happened.

He grabbed a blanket and a spare pillow and went to head down to the med bay, nearly slamming into Krolia as the door opened. She had her hand raised in a fist, clearly ready to knock.

"Oh, sorry."

Lance looked up at her, suddenly feeling the urge to cry. "I'm sorry!"

She gave him a confused look.

"I didn't protect him, he could have died over a stupid mistake I made and I'm so sorry." He was borderline hysterical at this point.

"Lance, please listen to me-"

"I'm sorry I'm not what you think he needs, I really try hard to be the best I can for him-"

"Lance-"

"And I want you to like me but after today I just feel like I don't deserve your approval-"

Krolia pulled him in for a hug, a bit crushing in all honesty. "Thank you. For saving him."

"I'm the reaso-"

"Shhhh you were there with him," she pulled back slightly. "He was right. I don't dislike you, I was worried about you liking me. You've been in his life a lot more than I have."

"Oh."

She pulled him in again, "I'm happy you're okay. I'm happy you were there to save him. Thank you for loving my son."

Lance dropped the items he was holding and wrapped his arms around her.

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I didn’t want to write her as being questionable of Lance or not approving; so she was just equally worried about impressing Lance. 

I love this idea so much, I hope you liked it as well 

Thank you <333333