Keitor appreciation zine

It’s been a long wait but the zine is finally here! We hope you enjoy it, thank you for sticking around with us!

My (super belated) @keitorzine entry which I forgot to post sorryyy

PS check out the full zine here, guys!

My piece for the Mixed Blood Keitor Zine which is now available to download for free @keitorzine 💕 Check it out, everything’s wonderful ✨

Title: and so I’ll follow you till the end, my dear Fandom: Voltron Ships: Keitor Warnings: Some Violence Rating: T Word Count: 2432 Read on Ao3

It’s Keith’s fourth day with the Blades when he hears about their newest arrival to the base.

They say he’s a prince, that he’s ruthless, cunning, quick. They say, in whispers and hushed voices, that he’s Zarkon’s son, that he was raised by druids, that he can’t be trusted.

They also say he’s only half-Galra.

In this, Keith feels… something. It’s not quite empathy, not quite trust. It’s more of an…  understanding, a glimmer of familiarity.

He’s held as a prisoner, someone Keith could never hope to gain an audience with, and at the end of his fourth day, Keith believes that Lotor is only a name he’ll ever hear in passing, through whispers and hushed voices and rumor-filled conversations.

characters/relationships: keith/lotor, kova rating: T words: 2K summary:

Realisation that Keith is a fool comes far too late, because he’s gotten to this point now and there’s no turning back. Here he is, chasing a cat down the hallway frantically, pleading for a compromise a bargain a trade anything. As Keith rounds the corner, he discovers he’s the main ingredient for a rather disastrous recipe. Three things happen in rapid succession and Keith has absolutely no power over these tragic events. It’s written into the fabric of time for all eternity. Kova comes to a halt and drops the keys. “Ah Kova, there you are,” says a man so ethereal he cannot be of this earth. Then Keith, diving for the keys, accidentally tackles said man to the ground.

– It starts as few things do: with purring on Keith’s pillow and something soft flicking against his face. 

amid the sand 

characters/relationships: keith/lotor rating: T words: 2.1K summary:

“Be careful,” Keith warns. “I’ve had it my whole life.” “Hm. That may be so, but it has not had you for all of its life…” Lotor muses, observing it intently. Set against the glow of the fire, the engravings around the symbol flourish into patterns that are truly mesmerising. Leaning closer, Keith watches Lotor turn the artifact over in his gloved hands. “This is unspeakably ancient. In all my ventures, I have never seen such a specimen.” “What is it?” “You don’t know?” There’s reverence in his voice, but the surprise overpowers. It’s as if Keith should know exactly what this is, as if it’s almost impossible that he doesn’t. Resigned, Keith slumps against the shattered remains of what was once a wall. “Interesting. Yet still it speaks to you, and your hear the call of the force nonetheless.” 

– Out here on his hoverbike is the closest Keith ever gets to belonging. That changes one day unexpectedly. [Star Wars AU] 

and so I’ll follow you till the end, my dear

It’s been two months since Lotor officially joined the Blades, two months since Kolivan started their sparring sessions, and in those two months, Keith still doesn’t know what Lotor thinks of him, doesn’t know what he thinks of Lotor, just that there’s something about the smirk on his face that irks Keith in a way he can’t comprehend.

It doesn’t help that it shows up every time Keith loses.

“You’re not bad, kit, but you could be better.” The smirk Lotor often wears is apparent even with the mask hiding his face. He runs and slides, swiping Keith off his feet, but not before Keith gets a good kick of his own in.

They both grunt, Keith falling onto his back and Lotor clutching his shoulder. But Lotor is still at the advantage as he is already scrambling back to his feet, sword pointed at Keith’s neck.

“A valiant effort, but your moves are predictable. Your kicks mean nothing if I’m already prepared for them.” Lotor stands over him, mask deactivating to reveal a small grin, not quite gloating but not quite humble either, and tucks his sword away as he offers Keith a hand.

Keith frowns but takes it nonetheless.

It nearly always ends like this.

The smirk never quite leaves, either. Keith catches it at nearly every glance, Lotor’s head tilted slightly, gaze soft, mouth quirked up revealing one of his fangs.

It’s infuriating. At least, Keith thinks it is.

to hope, to trust (you’ll make it through)

“And who would have me send, kit? I can’t spare anyone to go on a mission such as this. The risk is too great.”

Keith takes a deep breath, and before he even opens his mouth, Lotor knows what he’s going to ask. There is no way Keith would let an opportunity like this slip by. He’s going to offer to go himself. Alone.

But Lotor also knows the finality of what he’s asking, the danger, the likelihood of failure, of-

He can’t let Keith go.

“Send me.”

Lotor looks at Keith when he says it, doesn’t break his gaze away when Keith whips his head around to face him, his own words dead on his lips. His stance shifts, his expression moving from determination to something like concern.

“I’ll go. It’s only logical. I know the layout of the base, where the intel is stored, how to gain access. I did spend eight years living there, after all.” Lotor shifts his gaze to look at Kolivan, who has a hand up to his face in thought. “That way you don’t have to worry about sending any of your members. You can get the intel without any of the risk.”

Keith starts to speak but Kolivan hushes him, and for a moment, Lotor thinks he’s convinced him. But just for a moment.

“No. You haven’t even gone through the trials yet. It’s a risk for me to even take you at your word that this intel is real.”

Lotor feels his stomach drop. He knows what’s coming next.