#space dad coran is top tier

[mothmanavenue]

ok ok finally reblogging this jackie i love you but also give me more or i’ll cut my hands off

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———

Lance smooths down the pleats of his new black skirt, trying to focus on how nice it feels and not the anxiety churning in his stomach.

It’s fine. He’s fine. He’s totally not going to make a fool of himself and then be forced to quit Voltron due to his own humiliation.

“You’re making a big deal out of nothing,” Hunk laments dramatically, poking at Lance’s lockpad like he’s itching to take a screwdriver to it. “Keith is so whipped for you that it’s actually embarrassing. I dunno why you’re worrying about anything.”

“The person who’s fault this is doesn’t get an opinion,” Lance says pointedly. He glares at his best friend through the mirror, who only shrugs in defense.

“You don’t work through your shit unless you’re forced to. Remember the Garrison applications?”

Lance sighs. Hunk’s right, which is annoying. Lance had dreamed about becoming a pilot since he could think, basically, but as soon as he was old enough to fill out the forms, he chickened out. Worked himself up into a frenzy about not being good enough, and managed to convince himself not to bother. It was Hunk, aged eleven, who forged Lance’s application for him and sent it in with his own.

Lance does, unfortunately, need to be pushed into things he’s nervous about. That’s why he and Hunk are friends, even though Hunk is a horrible secret keeper.

“I still think you should be begging for my forgiveness,” Lance grumbles. He takes one last look in the mirror and can’t quite help a smile.

He does, if one were to think completely objectively, look fine as hell. Red is his colour, and damn any conflicting opinions to hell — the belly button piercing is pretty. The tramp stamp is a classy kind of trashy.

And the lipgloss Allura convinced him to get?

Damn. That’s all he has to say about that.

“Finally,” Hunk grouches when Lance turns to the door, but he’s grinning, and he keeps an encouraging hand on Lance’s shoulder the whole walk to the dining room.

“I think it’s really excellent that we’re doing this as we eat,” he says conversationally. “I’m looking forward to watching Keith forget how to use a spoon.”

Lance snorts. “Keith will not forget how to use a fuckin’ spoon, dorkbrain. Besides, he’s seen it all, remember?”

Hunk grins. “I do remember you telling me about the shower incident. Allura and I like to bring it up to each other randomly and laugh until we cry.”

Fortunately for Hunk, they make it to the doors before Lance can kick him for his insolence. Hunk half-yanks Lance through before he can talk himself out of it.

“Oh, no fucking way.” Pidge is the first to notice. She looks at Lance with wide, gleeful eyes, as if Lance has just informed her that her birthday comes twice this year. She looks at his midriff, then back at his face, and grins, adjusting her glasses. “I fucking love it here. Everything about my life is a gem.”

“I mean, we are fighting fascism,” Allura mumbles. She shoots Lance a smile and turns back to trying to sculpt the castle out of food goo (it is not going well, thus her stuck-out tongue and intense concentration). Lance tugs on her hair as he walks by, just to be a nuisance. She tries and fails to trip him.

“My, dear, you look wonderful!” Coran says. He beams so brightly at Lance that Lance can’t help but smile back, accepting the chair Coran pulls out for him — swallowing down the twinge of pain he gets when he remembers his siblings doing the same teasing gesture back home, whenever he dressed up for no reason, the twinge of pain he gets when his space family and his Earth family occupy the same space in his heart — and sitting carefully so as to not flare up his skirt.

“Thanks, Coran.”

He glances at the rest of the table. Shiro shoots him a wink and a thumbs up, and Hunk, who’s sat down next to Pidge, is openly sniggering.

Keith is completely frozen, spoon halfway to his mouth, goo sliding off of it.

“Hey, Keith,” Lance says. He hears the slight slyness in his voice, the nerves making butterflies turn in his stomach but kind of exciting him, too.

Keith opens his mouth, then closes it again, and does that several times before he finally makes himself speak.

“Hey,” he croaks out. Lance ducks his head slightly to hide his grin. “You, uh. You look — I like your —” he struggles to find his words and gives up for a moment, gesturing vaguely to Lance’s person.

Poorly-hidden giggles erupt from all over the table. Keith goes redder than his lion.

“You like my…?” Lance tries, well aware he’s fishing for compliments and beyond caring.

“All of it,” Keith says, a little helplessly. He’s undoubtedly embarrassed — obviously — but his eyes are determined, and his voice is sincere. He takes a deep breath and then nods once to himself, like he’s solidifying a decision.

“All of it,” he repeats, voice steadier than before.

Lance’s cheeks start to hurt. “Thank you.”

Keith nods again, ears still red, and turns back to his goo. He scarfs his food down, not looking up, and practically runs to the sink when he’s done, washing his dish at lightspeed and rushing out the doors with a hasty wave and excuse.

“Oh, he’s going to be so embarrassing for the next few weeks,” Shiro says wistfully. He turns to Lance with the fondest expression. “Gold star for you, kiddo. Please continue to make my week.”

Lance thinks to the giant bag of clothes he and Allura brought back from the mall, and how absolutely none of them cover his midriff. He smirks slightly to himself

“Will do, Team Leader.”

He’s going to have fun cracking that boy.

[phoenixyfriend]

I’ve been trying to figure out the best obi wan ship. They all have one slightly problematic thing this way or that. I’ve landed on the idea of obi wan and an equal is pretty top tier. But then I saw a picture of Coran from voltron. Coran and Obiwan might be a disaster but also both are dad shaped, both are bad ass, both are ginger, both have an accent. I think it could work. But another part of me is like Coran is just obi and jarjar mashed together. At the very least they hooked up.

Hey I just had restaurant ramen and Starbucks and actually feel like a human being so let's do something unnecessary but funny. I'm taking this as a challenge, anon.

Also IMO Coran has more in common with C3P0 than with JarJar

So obviously, both of these happen in Big Space, but the difference appears to be density. We see about the same complexity of culture and species interactions, but Voltron covers more galaxies. It's vaguely implied that Earth, at least, is the only planet with sapient life in the Milky Way.

I think the way I want to play this out, culturally, is that the Voltron area of the universe covers a much wider, but much more sparsely populated area, while the SW-verse is just the one very densely populated (in part because apparently humans just went Literally Everywhere) galaxy, where they didn't necessarily bother with developing the tech to go to other galaxies (except Rishi, which only sort of counts) because they haven't really even charted out their own yet. It was never contacted by the Voltron side of things because [checks notecards full of excuses] it's really far away from Altea and all that, and the Force shielded the galaxy from Galra interests because Reasons.

All this to say that the two franchises didn't interact until after the Voltron plotline was already over. We'll say it went mostly canon, except Allura survived because uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh fuck that.

We'll say that this is mid-TCW, you know, before Obi-Wan is a bundle of repressed traumas and bad coping mechanisms that's lost almost everyone he's ever loved to the dark side through death or corruption. He's still (mostly) okay! Anakin's not dark (or at least, not as dark as he could be; Obi-Wan doesn't know about the Tuskens), and Ahsoka's still in good standing and most people are alive and--and okay the army is a massive ethical violation he hates with his very soul and he misses Qui-Gon and Anakin's keeping secrets and pulling away from him every day but He's Fine, Guys.

He's Fine.

In comes a ship from not Wild Space, but beyond that. Intergalactic visitors, from the direction of the deeply concerning Force bullshit they felt a few years ago. Translation tech is decent enough on both sides that they get to talking pretty quickly. The explorer is actually a member of the Blade of Marmora, who gets the absolute most basic info (approximately this many inhabited planets, approximately this many trillions of sapients in the recorded galaxy, basic structure of the government for the past however many years, most recent conflict, etc.)

BoM person is like "cool, okay so you guys are really well set-up so I'm just gonna head back and kick this up a few rungs of the coalition ladder because this is way above my paygrade, I'll make sure you get some diplomats who can maybe help out with the whole galactic civil war situation as neutral parties."

The Voltron Coalition does send a diplomat! They, uh, also send Coran, who isn't technically a diplomat, but he's high-level.

The thing is, okay, that Coran is mostly just... passably competent at things. He's a jack of all trades, master of none type. He knows a lot of things, actually, but his practical knowledge in high pressure situations tends to be up in the air. He knows how to fix the Castle Ship and various technologies, but all of that info is ten thousand years out of date. He was a competent fighter at one point but these days his back gives out. He's very knowledgeable regarding intergalactic politics but, again, that information is ten thousand years out of date. He's also a little prone to social gaffs in dicey situations (e.g. the inciting incident in the Voltron Show episode where he misses the single day with clear skies), but puts in so much goddamn effort to make things happen.

In this manner, he's like a warped mirror of what Obi-Wan is and could be.

THAT SAID

Coran is actually really good with teenagers, and specifically with training them.

And Obi-Wan... isn't.

Obi-Wan's snarky and snippy and sassy, and he's decent enough at teaching and he's great at being a jokey friend and all, but he's not necessarily very good at emotions. And unfortunately for Obi-Wan, the teenagers he spends the most time with are Really Full Of Emotions. He tries, bless him, but he's just... he doesn't respond well to emotional conversations at the best of times.

His son-figure saying "You're like a father to me" leads to a response of... radio silence. Guys. That's not the mark of a man who knows how to talk about his feelings with the people he cares about.

In swans Coran with the various other diplomatic envoys of the visiting extragalactic community. The entire situation is really leading to a lull in the war because nobody wants to risk pissing off this clearly well-funded, well-powered third party. As a result, many of the High Generals can interact with the envoys, even if they spend quite a bit of time eyeing the Separatist representatives on the other side of the room, because clearly Everyone Needs A Seat At This Table.

It's a very tense situation.

Obviously, Coran is exactly the weird uncle that goes around telling plausibly-exaggerated stories about Weblums and Yalmors and Balmeras. I'm going to say at least one former Paladin is there, maybe Hunk. Hunk's fun, and also very willing to help Coran make friends and seem Amicable instead of Distant by correcting some of the exaggerations. There's a nice, calm atmosphere in a bubble around Coran and his nonsense, and it's a weird situation but arguably just... you know. It's good. He's good at making people feel safe around him.

Cue the hissed argument between Skywalker and Kenobi. The actual cause of said argument isn't important, just the fact that, in a dark corner where they're less likely to cause a PR issue, Anakin and Obi-Wan are having it out. Anakin's maybe twenty, still a lanky ragebaby, all that fun stuff. Obi-Wan is a the endpoint of every too-young brotherdad. He's thirty-six but feels like he's sixty-three. He's tired, but trying so damn hard to still connect with Anakin and just--just--

Obi-Wan gives himself a few minutes to calm down before following Anakin. He doesn't even remember what they were arguing about, really, but he has to mend the bridge before it frays even more than it already has. If Anakin goes to Palpatine for advice again, he's going to... do something. Obi-Wan isn't sure what, but he just has to fix this.

What he finds is... well, Anakin did end up going to vent to a man of an earlier generation who acts like a slightly eccentric older relative, but it's not Palpatine for once.

The goofy, slightly abrasive but mostly charming, brightly-colored representative of the Voltron Coalition is standing in the little balcony that Anakin's made it to, listening as Obi-Wan's recently-knighted padawan vents. The man nods and makes noises at the appropriate times, and then asks questions that are... maybe a little too accurate.

"You said that you view him as a father, that he raised you after you left your mother."

"Well, yeah, but he doesn't think I'm ready, or--"

"No parent ever does."

"...my mom thought I was ready to become a Jedi."

"I can't speak for your mother," the representative says, "but the princess of my people, Allura... I half-raised that girl from the beginning, and after the destruction of Altea, we were all the other had left. I watched her lead battles and bring life to planets, trying to rebuild a universe out of the ashes of what we'd left behind... I saw the evidence with my own eyes, and I still, every time, I worried for her."

"Why?"

"I worried that she'd be hurt, that she wasn't ready, that she'd make a decision she regretted. Often, she did, and I had to help her back up, and while she's always come back, stronger than before... she is the closest thing I have ever had to a daughter, and I will always worry for her. Every parent does. Do you think, perhaps, that your own Jedi Master, that you consider a father, may worry because he looks at you like a son? That it's not that he doesn't trust you, but that he doesn't trust the world around you?"

Obi-Wan feels his heart in his throat.

The conversation continues in that vein. While Obi-Wan can't say he likes the fact that this stranger is putting words in his mouth, if only as hypotheticals, he can't deny that there's a part of him that relaxes as Anakin does, as every frustrated fresh-knight question gets a measured elderly-steward response that's angled to consider the interpretation that favors Anakin and Obi-Wan in equal measure. Every word encourages Anakin to talk things out and lay boundaries and express his frustrations to Obi-Wan in the plainest words possible.

There's a story in there, more than one. The representative tends to go off on tangents, ones that Anakin sometimes finds interesting and sometimes just resigns himself to. Mostly, though, it goes well, and Obi-Wan... well, he's always been 'a nosy little bastard,' according to quite a few people.

(In his defense, the terms they'd used about Quinlan's 'investigative personality' had been quite a bit stronger.)

He eavesdrops to the end, and Anakin doesn't notice at all. Obi-Wan's not sure if he should try to address Anakin's lack of awareness of the world around him. He's not technically Anakin's master anymore. The comment may be taken as a criticism of his worth and capability, rather than a sincere desire to see his padawan not die.

He approaches the representative instead. He intends to introduce himself. Instead, the first words that tumble out of his mouth are:

"How do you do it?"

The man--older than he looks from a distance, more wrinkles than the bright hair would suggest, but not quite elderly yet--turns and lifts a brow. "Hm?"

"I'm sorry, I'm--" Obi-Wan grimaces. "I'm Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. The young man you were just talking to is my former padawan, er, my former apprentice. I've been finding it harder and harder to speak with him over the past few years, and it seems that every interaction we have leads to an argument. How do you... manage that? I can't get him to listen to me at all."

"Ah, teenagers," the man sighs.

"He's twenty."

The representative pauses, and turns to him. "Are you the one he says raised him? The father?"

"Well... yes, I suppose that's one way to phrase it," Obi-Wan says, eyes darting to the side. He doesn't know how to explain the whole attachment situation to someone who barely knows what a Jedi is. He has even less of an idea of how to explain his own broken ability to speak of emotion, the parts of his mind that Bant clucks over and attributes to his own complicated relationship with Qui-Gon. "I had custody as his primary guardian from ages nine to nineteen and was the primary individual for handling his schooling, health, and general upbringing."

"That sounds to me like a very convoluted way of saying you were his father in all but name."

Obi-Wan grimaces. "I'm not exactly old enough to be his father, and I wasn't exactly the person he was supposed to learn from; I was the... back-up option."

"It seems he cares for you very much."

"He didn't have much of a choice," Obi-Wan says, with the kind of helpless smile and awkward shrug he's long gotten used to sharing with people when they ask. "And I assure you he'd have been happier with the man that was meant to teach him."

"I'd say that the 'would have' in this situation is much less important than what is," the representative says. Obi-Wan probably should have paid more attention to his name. "I wasn't in a position to define my relation to Allura or her father in the way that truly suited our situation, by... oh, tradition, social norms, public relations, take your pick. I was a very well-regarded official, of course, but I wasn't royalty, not even nobility, and I certainly wasn't wasn't legally or publicly part of the family. But for all the limitations there, I was still able to find ways to tell her and her family what they meant to me, and they in return. Your apprentice cares for you very much, and I'm sure you care back, but I'd hazard quite the guess that you've no idea how to tell him that."

"I... I shouldn't," Obi-Wan says. "I'm fond of him, of course, but I've no wish to smother him, and to simply say it would be undignified. I imagine he'd laugh in my face."

The representative raises one eyebrow and takes a sip of his drink.

"Master Kenobi," he says carefully. "Might I suggest you go find your young man, tell him you love him, and perhaps give him a hug?"

Obi-Wan's face flares red. It's been years since anyone short of Yoda has spoken to him like that.

"I'm not a child," he sniffs, trying to angle enough away that the blush isn't as noticeable. He's damnably prone to such things. "You're not that much older than me."

The man laughs, and Obi-Wan lifts his glass to his lips in a futile attempt to hid the embarrassment a little more. "Oh, not counting the stasis, I've well reached the age of six hundred and twenty-four, my boy!"

Obi-Wan chokes on his drink.

The man laughs a little more, but thumps him on the back until he's breathing normally again.

"Yes, most of the humans I've told have had quite the reaction!" the representative assures him. "But yes, even with the times adjusted to what any given local year is, I am significantly longer-lived than most species."

"No kidding," Obi-Wan manages. He wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand and looks over at the representative. He takes in the wrinkles and bright eyes, and says, "Well, I must say you look very well for a near-human of such an age. I can only name one person in that category that has managed better, and I haven't seen her since I was a child."

"I shall take that as the compliment it's intended to be," the representative says, twisting the edge of his mustache and beaming.

The man is... well, goofy, really, and quite a bit older than Obi-Wan had thought, but he's quite the charmer. Obi-Wan faintly compares him to a few different people in the back of his mind, but nothing quite fits. For all that the man is quite the jokester and--going by some things he'd seen from the corner of his eye in the main party--a master of physical comedy, the representative is actually more competent than he looks, and for all his visible age, not bad to look at. He is also, seemingly, an expert in dealing with teenagers and young adults, something Obi-Wan himself is... decidedly not.

He really should go speak with Anakin.

And there's a war to fight.

He doesn't really have much time, even with the recent lull.

He's in no place to be looking at the clean-shaven jaw and wondering what it would feel like under his lips, or to let himself consider whether this man would be the kind to have an hours-long discussion as to the narrative forms common in other galaxies, and whether they have anything paralleled to those in Obi-Wan's own, or if this man would show the same enthusiasm over teas that he'd shown over the hors d'oeuvres inside.

He should... really go find Anakin.

"I suppose it's time to find my padawan," he says, more to fill the air than anything. "Er... thank you, both for speaking with him, and for speaking with me."

"Not a problem at all, Master Kenobi!" the representative says, and Obi-Wan realizes that there's one last thing he may have... forgotten.

"This is terribly embarrassing, but I don't believe I caught your name?" Obi-Wan says.

"Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe, at your service!" the man says, with a sweeping bow. "As you can imagine, most simply call me Coran."

"Then I insist you call me Obi-Wan," he says, and before he can stop himself, "Might I bother you with an invitation to a shared tea time? You seem a knowledgeable fellow, and I'd appreciate the chance to... eh, pick your brain, shall we say."

It's not the smoothest come on he's ever put out there, or the most easily interpreted, but... well. Perhaps it's for the best. He's rather often found his tastes going in irresponsible directions, and it'll be much easier to brush this off without diplomatic incident if there's room for Coran to politely ignore the less platonic options.

Obi-Wan hopes he doesn't.

It's very selfish of him, but a dalliance with an older gentleman... well. He does, perhaps, make such irresponsible decisions, even now.

"I do believe I'd enjoy such a thing!" Coran enthuses, grabbing Obi-Wan's hand and shaking it in large, effusive movements.

Oh, this is a terrible idea, Obi-Wan thinks, even as he exchanges comm numbers and says goodbye.

Still.

He likes the idea of having at least a little fun, sedate or less so, while they have some time to themselves.

[rubymoon-snape]

The Best Birthday Ever

Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron Legendary Defender.

Author Note: This is team as family with Dads of Marmora thrown in. It is also somewhat canon compliant in regards to Altea and Daibazaal being brought back. However, Allura didn't die to bring it about. Also, she and Lance are not dating. They decided they were better off as friends. Krolia and Kolivan are still the representatives of the Galactic Republic for Daibazaal, and Keith is the leader of the new humanitarian relief Blades. Acxa is here as Keith's older sister (not twin).

"The Best Birthday Ever"

"Relief mission was a complete success, Kolivan," Keith reported. Even though he was the leader of the Blades, he still reported to Kolivan as he recognized his expertise in leading the organization, even if it was going in a different direction.

"Well done, kit. Do you have enough supplies left for a small relief mission?"

"How small?"

"There is a village on one of the moons that has requested help. It's no larger than a hundred beings."

Keith sighed inwardly. He and his personal team of Blades were tired, but they did have enough supplies for a mission of that size. "Send me the coordinates and we'll be there. We will be cleaned out after that, so we will be headed back. I'll contact you again when the mission is over."

"No need for that, kit. When you are finished, come back home. Our pack, especially your mother, misses you."

Keith smiled. "I miss you guys too. Keith over and out."

The view screen blinked off, and Keith sighed. "Well, girls, you heard Kolivan. We have a small mission to do before we can go home."

%%%

"I sent him on the mission as requested, but I still don't understand why he needed to be sent away," Kolivan stated as he turned around to face the rest of his pack.

"It's because his birthday is coming up and the preparations are not finished yet," Krolia replied. "We just need a little bit more time."

"What needs completed?" Ulaz asked.

"The Paladins are taking care of the preparations. We just need to guarantee a large enough space for everyone to gather," Krolia answered. "In fact, they should be on their way via wormhole."

A light blinked on the consol and an alarm sounded alerting the Galra to the opening of a wormhole. To their surprise, there were two wormholes that opened; one blue and one orange. Out of the blue wormhole came an Altean pod, and a Garrison ship came out of the orange wormhole.

"Altean Delegation requesting permission to land."

"Oh, come on, Allura. There's no need to be so formal. Krolia knows we're coming," Lance spoke up from the Garrison pod.

Krolia grinned. "I am expecting you both. Please land quickly so we can get this done as fast as possible."

"Is Keith on his way?" Shiro asked.

"No. I sent him and his personal team of Blades on a small relief mission, but it might not take long," Kolivan answered.

"Understood. Garrison pod over and out."

Both pods landed, and their occupants disembarked. Each person was carrying something (gifts, decorations, cakes, cake decorations, etc).

Hunk and Romelle had baked many, round red velvet cakes on Earth, so Keith could have a three tier cake for his birthday. They were going to decorate each tier differently; the bottom tier was going to show his time as the Red Paladin with the likeness of the Red Lion and her element of fire, the second tier was going to show his time as the Black Paladin with the likeness of the Black Lion and her element of the sky, and the top tier was going to show his time as an agent of the BoM with the sides showcasing his time as a regular agent and the very top as the leader. It was their gift to Keith.

Lance was carrying his wrapped gift and a large box of party decorations. Somehow, he had found decorations featuring the Voltron lions and bought all the ones with the Red and/or Black Lions on them. He also brought a banner that read 'Happy Birthday Keith' and crepe paper in red, purple, and black. Shiro was shaking his head at the crepe paper. (He figured Keith wouldn't like it).

Shiro was carrying a medium sized thin box tied in ribbon and topped with a bow in his left hand and his right arm was floating beside him holding a large box full of the decorations Hunk and Romelle needed to complete Keith's cake.

Matt and Pidge were the last two out of the Garrison pod. Matt was carrying a large gift bag, the red tissue paper peeking out over the top, and Pidge was fiddling with her data pad as she walked.

Allura and Coran didn't have anything except a small box between the two of them. The box had a red bow on top, obviously their gift for Keith.

The five humans and three Alteans entered the capital city's conference building and were instantly met by Keith's pack. Thace showed Hunk and Romelle where the kitchen was, and took the box of cake decorations from Shiro. Ulaz led the others to the largest conference room which was reserved for Keith's party. Lance immediately got to work decorating the room. Shiro pulled one of the tables to the side and set his box on it, which designated it for presents. Allura and Matt walked over and set their presents on the table as well. Lance put his present on the table while he decorated the room. Shiro put his foot down when Lance tried to use the crepe paper. "Keith's not going to like it. You know he prefers simple over extravagant."

Lance pouted but put the crepe paper back in the box and pulled out the banner. "Hey, Shiro, could you put the banner up? I want it to be hanging from the ceiling."

Shiro smiled. "That I can do."

%%%

Keith sighed and rolled his right shoulder as he sat down in his chair. Acxa glanced at her younger brother. He didn't know she was his sister. She always wanted to tell him, but there was never a good enough moment. Their mom promised that she'd be able to tell him at his surprise party. She and the girls had to keep the party a secret, even though they didn't understand the reasoning behind it. Keith /knew/ it was his birthday; how could a party be a surprise? They did buy him a present though. It had been a couple of quintants before their large relief mission, and Acxa had gotten permission to go to the space mall to pick up some supplies. It was while on the supply run that she saw something she /knew/ Keith would love. She had given it to their mom for safe keeping.

"You all right there, Keith?" Ezor had noticed his movements.

"I guess. My right shoulder hurts. I got injured when I took my trials all those deca-phoebes ago, and it hurts every so often."

"You should ask Ulaz to look it over," Acxa suggested. "He might have something."

"Yeah maybe. Let's go home."

Acxa took the controls and flew them home. She sent a secret communique to their pack, letting them know they were on the way and to expect them within the next two vargas.

The trip to Daibazaal was uneventful, and the four Blades exited the ship. Keith was so tired that he didn't even notice the pod from the Garrison or the Altean pod in the hangar. Acxa was at his side and seemed to be guiding him in a different direction than Kolivan's office. That thought amused him. No matter what Kolivan was doing, he had an office, though he shared this one with Krolia.

"Kolivan is in the largest conference room, awaiting our arrival," Acxa mentioned.

"Is he in a meeting?" Keith asked.

"No. There's not a meeting scheduled for today."

"How do you know about that?" Keith asked as he walked into a darkened room. Keith looked side to side, his eyes glowing slightly. He always had decent night vision, not as good as his pack but better than a human's. He could just make out some shapes before the lights came back on, causing him to blink harshly. 

"Surprise! Happy birthday, Keith!"

Keith looked at all the gathered people. There were the two Alteans, Allura and Coran, as well as Shiro, Pidge, Lance, and Matt. His entire pack was there as well, his current team of Blades joining the throng of people, which parted to let Hunk and Romelle through. They were carrying a three tier, gorgeously decorated cake. There were many candles lit; Keith didn't care to count how many.

"This is our present to you. Romelle and I made this for you."

Tears leapt to his eyes. "Guys, thank you. This means so much to me."

"Make a wish and blow out the candles, Mullet!"

"What more could I ask for?" Keith inquired before indulging Lance. He closed his eyes and thought about his wish before he opened his eyes and blew out the candles with one breath.

Shiro, Lance, Pidge, and Matt clapped enthusiastically. Hunk and Romelle set the cake down on a nearby table, taking the candles off and readying it for Keith to cut it. In the meantime, Keith went over to his friends and received hugs and well wishes.

"You guys!" Keith lightly punched Shiro in the shoulder and gave Matt a playful shove. He grabbed Pidge and Lance in headlocks. "I didn't expect a thing!"

Lance pulled out of the headlock with a grin. "That was the point."

"Keith! Come cut the cake!" Hunk called out.

Keith dutifully walked over and made the first cut before letting himself be drawn away by his pack. Purrs, rumbles, hums, amused sounding growls, and huffs along with nuzzles and pets were exchanged at a rapid pace with his Blades joining in.

Hunk and Romelle passed out pieces of the cake to everyone who wanted one with Keith getting the first piece. His eyes sparkled when he saw it was a red velvet cake. After everyone ate their piece, it was time for presents.

Shiro led Keith over to the table where the presents were. There was a small box, a large gift bag, a medium sized thin box, a smaller thin box, and a lumpy wrapped gift. Keith looked over the selection. "Which one should I open first?"

"Open ours first!" the Holt siblings chorused.

"It's the gift bag," Shiro said helpfully.

Keith grabbed the gift bag and read the tag, which stated it was from all four Holts instead of just the siblings. He opened the bag, withdrew the tissue paper, and found it was full of art supplies. He pulled out a sketch pad, charcoal pencils, colored pencils, special erasers for charcoal pencils, oil pastels, regular pencils, and a sharpener. He packed the supplies back into the bag and hugged Pidge and Matt. "Thank you, guys, and tell your parents thanks as well."

"Open mine next!" Lance cried. "I actually wrapped it!"

Keith picked up the deceptively light package and looked it over. He raised an eyebrow at the wrapping paper. It was black with little white dots and cartoonish red rocket ships and the words 'happy birthday' written on it. It was supposed to resemble a space scene from a cartoon show Keith guess. He looked up at Lance. "You chose this paper why?"

Lance held his hands up in defeat. "Don't blame me, dude. Sylvio was the one who picked it out!"

Keith chuckled. He couldn't get upset at Lance's little nephew. He opened the gift and held up a black hoodie. His eyes fell on the white lettering on the front, which spelled out 'Undercover Galra.' Another eyebrow was raised. "Lance."

Lance chuckled and draped an arm around Keith's shoulders. "I saw this airbrush shop that could airbrush anything you wanted on an article of clothing, and I couldn't resist! It suits you, Mullet, and you know it."

"What does it say, kit?" Antok asked.

Keith turned the hoodie around to show the six members of his pack and his three personal Blades. Acxa and Regris couldn't help but chuckle at the words. Keith blushed and set the hoodie down. "Excuse me while I murder Lance."

Lance ducked behind Allura, who neatly stepped out of the line of fire. "Oh no you don't. I didn't get between you two on the castle ship, and I'm not about to start now."

Shiro wrapped an arm around Keith's shoulders. "Don't kill Lance. He means well, and you know it. Now, open my gift."

He pushed the thin, medium sized box forward. Keith opened the box and gasped. Inside was an oversized knife, tucked safely in its sheath. He withdrew the card, which read: - Oversize Kukri Battle Knife, length: 11 1/2 inches, two tone finish on blade, partially serrated, rubberized handle offers firm and impact absorbing grip -. He tucked the card back in the box and hugged Shiro. "This is amazing, Shiro! How did you know I was looking at this?"

"A little birdie told me...or rather a little Pidgeon told me."

Pidge whistled and refused to meet Keith's eyes. Keith grinned wide and called out, "You are /not/ slick, Pidge."

"Never claimed to be!" she shot back.

Keith just grinned even wider and grabbed the closest present which was a small box. He opened the box, and his eyes widened. He withdrew two sets of throwing knives, still sheathed in their protective holders. He set one set down on the table and unlatched the other set. He slipped one of the throwing knives out and looked it over. It was an obsidian metal with a circular pommel, and the grip was wrapped in a black twine like material. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He closed it and opened it again with the same result. Allura took pity on the new Blade Leader and walked over. "These are from Coran and myself. We figured you would like them."

Keith sheathed the throwing knife before setting the set back on the table. He wrapped his arms around Allura's shoulders and purred to her. "Thank you very much; both of you."

Allura curled her arms around Keith's head. "You are very welcome."

He unwrapped his arms and looked at the table. "There's another present?"

"Open it," Allura urged.

He slid the large, thin box close and opened it. His mouth fell open in shock at he gazed the sword (tucked into its sheath) and read the card detailing information about the blade.  - Honshu Boshin Katana (Modern Tactical Samurai/Ninja Sword), hand forged, angled pommel, length: 40 3/4 inches, remains razor sharp even after slicing through solid rock, no slip grip, ergonomic contours boost comfort & reduces fatigue -.

Keith looked up at the gathered guests and family. "Who is this from?"

"It's from us," Acxa spoke up, gesturing to her and the other two girls. "I thought you'd like it."

"I love it. Thank you." Keith pulled the girls close, giving and receiving nuzzles.

"There is one more present, kit," Krolia spoke up.

Keith looked back at the table. "Where?"

Krolia chuckled. "It's not a physical present. Come here, my kit."

Keith left his Blades' embrace and went over to his mother. "I know how important family is to you, my son, so it's only fitting that you learn this on your birthday. You have an older sister."

Keith looked up at her. "What? Who?"

"It's me, Keith. I'm your sister," Acxa answered.

Keith turned his head quickly in her direction. "You are? When did you find out?"

"It's been a deca-phoebe since I found out. I just couldn't find the right time to tell you."

Keith held his arms out for Acxa to join him and their mother. There was no hesitation on Acxa's part. She immediately dashed over and was pulled into her mom's arms with her brother right next to her. Keith purred in delight. This had to be the best birthday ever.

Fin

[lw2littlewolf]

Soulmate AU part 1

Taken from irandomlydontgiveaflyingfuck's post

Soulmate Au

Taken from the tumblr post by @irandomlydontgiveaflyingfuck

This is a two part story, and I don't think it turned out very well.

LThe ages will be a little off of what happens in the show, but just bear with it.

Everyone knows about our reflections. We only ever see ourselves, and our soulmates. There are some people who walk around with a mirror on them at all times, and check it semi regularly to see if the person next to them is there soulmate. Others who never really look, just occasionally look in reflective surfaces and eventually find them, and then the ones like me. My brother Shiro found his soulmate by accident. He was a highschool teachers, at the age of 20. One day he walked into class, and his assistant, Matt Holt was showing them the fact that the only person who could see your reflection besides yourself was your soul mate. Matt turned to Shiro, and had him demonstrate. They stood in front of the mirror, then realized they could see their reflections, and each others. The class was so happy for them they actually held a party. At the time I was in 8th grade.

Since then, i've been more actively avoiding looking in mirrors, and reflective surfaces. I only look in the mirror in the morning, to see if i'm presentable for work. Im now working as a mechanic, and am a proje of Allura Altea. The shop is called The Castle, and for good reason. The main shop doors would fit a semmi, with a Caterpillar 797F on its back. These doors were HUGE.

When she hired me she gave me my trusty bike, Red. at the time Red had been slightly beat up, but now the beautiful harley purrs whenever I start her. There are two other people working under Allura that I know fairly well. I don't talk to them mutch, but then I don't really talk to anyone much. There names are Hunk and Katie. Katie is a spitfire, and prefers to be called Pidge, since then she can be whoever she wants, without people judging who she is. Hunk and Pidge are the tech experts, they deal with the newer cars and their problems, I mainly change the oil, tiers, do the tuneups, that sort of thing. Allura calls us her paladins, but when she hired Shiro, after his accident that had cost him his arm, we started to call the two our ‘Space mom and dad’ just to see them get flustered at us. I got the worst of it, since I then had to go home and live with Shiro. I used to have an apartment of my own, but it got caught in a fire, and the entire building was destroyed. Luckily I was at work fixing up a leak on red. Some of my neighbors weren't so lucky.

I was actualy pissd about that, since they had been good people, and the landlords had failed to mention that the wiring was faulty on our floor. At first I was contemplating pressing charges, but the decided against it.

“Hello there number 4. What's troubling you so much today?” Coran asked. Coran had been working for Allura as long as I can remember.

“Yo, Coran, sorry i'm late, you wanted me to help with something?” a voice behind me said.

“Ah, Lance, yes. By the way this here is Keith. Keith this is Lance, the one who helps me to drive the people's cars back to them.” Coran said.

“I also do paint jobs, and touch ups to.” said other person.

I turned around and extended my hand, knowing full well that my gloves were covered in grease. But if he couldn't handle that, then he didn't belong working in a mechanics shop. He glanced at my gloves, and shook my hand smiling.

“Keith, what did I tell you about challenging the other workers. You and your unspoken challenges are what made the last three workers quit.” Allura said from behind me.

“Sorry ‘Llura, but they wouldn't have been any help. If they couldn't even stand a little grease, they then had no business trying to work in a mechanics shop. I cat stand that kind of person. All worried about there clothes and nails. Disgusting since they didn't even think about what the job of a mechanic is.” I said, turning back to Red and tightening the final bolt.

“There you are Keith. How many times did I tell you this morning that Adam and I want you over for our dinner party before you come?” Shiro said coming into the room.

“Probably a million more times? I really don't want to go. I already know that it is mainly so you can get me a boyfriend, or my soulmate. So don't even try to deny it.” I said, completely forgetting the others were there. “Just because your my brother, doesn't mean that i'm going to just listen to you. On top of that, I already have enough trouble with that asshole Lotor. He won't leave me alone, and if I go to your party and make it kind of obvious that I don't have a date, he is probably going to try and hook up with me. Lotor needs to take a quiznacking hint!” I yell at my brother.

I then turn back to Red, and clean her up, before putting my tools away. Only when I turned to put the box away, did I realize that the others were there. Even Pidge and Hunk and joined the group.

“Sorry” I mutter, then put the box down and healed my bike out ot the front.

“Excuse me, do you work here?” a voice behind me asked. I turned and saw a younger girl. She looked to be around 16 years old

“Yah, do you need something?” I asked.

“Yah, I was wondering if you could take a look at my motorcycle. It's the grey one with the wolf head painted on it. My sisters is the pink and purple one. She is across the street, but it would be a good idea to check hers out to. Mine wont start, and I have no idea why. Hers is having some kind of trouble, and overheats way to fast and easily.” she said, looking like she didn't want to bother me if I was busily.

“Sure, I'll take a look.” I said. “Just let me grab someone else to help me push them in and get the station ready.” I said waling inside.

“Hey, um can someone help me with this customer?” her bike is having troubles and her sisters to. Allura is it alright if I put them in the same boy I usually put Red in?” I ask.

“Sure, Lance help him, Shiro get the tools, and keith, I might have you working on all of the motorcycles that come in, since your so good with them.” she replied. I nodded then went back outside with lance trailing behind me.

“Hey, so this is my sister. Oh, I almost forgot, my name is Audrey, and hers is Carlene. Her boyfriend dropped us and our bikes off, and he will be back soon to pick her up. I hope it won't be a bother if I stay.” she said, looking kind of nervous.

“Im sure itll be fine, besides I need someone to tell me what has been happening to them.” I said. “By the way my name is Keith, and this is Lance. Come on in.” I said, moaning for her to follow us, and Lance and I started to push the bikes in to the shop.