#galra reader

He vaguely remembered the recent events. His capture, Sam being sent off to the labour colony, the area. He remembered attacking Matt to take his place in the queue. He remembered managing to kill the gladiator that he had been sent to fight, and he remembered two Galra commanders fighting for him like property.

That’s right, the purple man with the axe won.

Shiro’s thoughts cut short when the room lit up in a yellow light. The door to the bedroom slid open and heavy footsteps sounded on the stone floor.

---

You walked into your room, a bowl carried carefully under your left arm. With a wave of your hand, the lights in the room turned on and the door locked behind you. The Earthling you had caged was standing by the energy shield, glaring at you.

“Where am I?” he demanded, “Let me go!”

You languidly made your way over to your bed, opening a hidden drawer under the mattress and throwing - what Shiro made out to be - a knife into it. You looked up to see the man’s glare and rolled your eyes.

“Well I would if you’d let me get to the door,” you said, as you walked over to the cell and pressed your hand to the control panel. The purple energy shield phased away quickly, and the Earthling stayed standing still. Uncomfortably lingering in his open cell - you were standing too close. He didn’t trust you.

You backed away from the cell, moving towards the table and pulling out a chair.

“Sit.” you commanded. You pulled out your own chair, and sat down, trying your best to look polite and relaxed. The Earthling warily sat down across from you, physically on edge and prepared to run at any moment.

You gently placed the bowl you had been carrying onto the table, carefully pushing it towards him. The Earthling looked down at the bowl, small magenta grape-like things filling it to its brim.

“Oxoco berries,” you clarified calmly, “they will help you regain your strength after your fight, help your body heal. They’re sweet and a little tart.”

The Earthling looked down at the berries again, picking one out of the bowl and rolling it between his fingers, seemingly evaluating it.

“Do you remember how you got here?” you asked to break the odd quiet that had overtaken the room.

“Not fully,” the Earthling admitted after a moment’s hesitation. You huffed air through your nose quietly, realising you weren’t going to get any more out of his as he sniffed the berry in his hand.

“You are on one of the Galra Empire’s flagships. You were found by one of the Empire’s commanders on one of the outer planets of your solar system and bought here, where you were deemed fit enough to fight and fought in a gladiator arena for Galra entertainment,” you told him, trying to keep it concise but accurate, “after you somehow defeated Myzax, I fought for ownership of you.”

“You cut off his arm,” the Earthling said, staring at you. He popped the oxoco berry between his fingers, the deep red juice splattering down his hand. He was odd, almost like he was constantly judging your every move, so on edge.

“Eat,” you reminded him, “if I was going to poison you I wouldn’t have fought for you,”

Your rationalisation seemed to work, as the Earthling looked at you a moment longer, then back to the berry juice on his hand. He tentatively licked at it, smudging a little on his lips.

“They taste like cranberries, a berry back on Earth,” he said quietly, picking another from the bowl.

“Oxoco berries were once grown on the planet Noxxal, they are now only grown on dedicated agriculture planets.” you shared, not quite letting your facade drop.

“Noxxal…” Shiro remembered that name being mentioned before, he remembered it from your fight with that other Galra commander.

“It is the planet I am from.” you explained carefully, “It was once very similar to other green planets such as your Earth, but after the Empire took over, all the natural resources were harvested and the planet became a toxic wasteland,”

Perhaps this Earthling was like you. Your tactics of nicety and caring were seen as deception and a threat. Letting one’s guard down was something so rare on this ship, and if this Earthling was like you in any sense, he would only give his trust to someone who equally trusted him. Perhaps that is why you were drawn to him.

“I am Noxxian and Galran, though that is not public knowledge,” you shared, momentarily being entirely transparent, “you are not to speak of my impure heritage to anyone else, understood?”

You were ashamed, deep down. And that truth was not one told lightly. His attitude seemed to shift a little as he nodded, he relaxed slightly.

“What is your name, Earthling?” you asked, wanting to refer to this man by his name than his species.

“...Shiro,” he said slowly, “-And we call ourselves ‘human’, not Earthling.”

Though you kept it well hidden, you were happy. He spoke a little more this time.

“Thank you, Shiro,” you said, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips, “I am Commander (y/n) (l/n), but when we’re alone you may call me (y/n).”

The human - Shiro - nodded again, taking another berry from the bowl. His eye contect still remained fierce, but it was no longer malicious.

“I’m sure you have questions?” you asked with a sigh, relaxing into your chair, fully prepared for anything he had to ask.

“Where’s Matt? The other human I was with?” he asked instantly.

“After you injured him, he was deemed unfit to fight and sent off to one of the labour colonies,” you explained, “very smart of you to do that,”

He paused at your compliment, processing the information.

“Why are you helping me?”

“Why does anyone do anything?” you asked. It wasn’t a simple question to answer.

“I may be a commander of this empire, but that does not mean I agree with what it is or what it does,” you began slowly. Shiro looked as though he was about to talk, but you stopped him.

“You’ll ask ‘Why are you here then if you don’t agree with it?’ but it really isn’t that simple,” you explained, “on your Earth you know very little outside of your own solar system, but out here, the Galra Empire has taken over a third of known space and is constantly expanding,”

“Your Earth is just beyond the edge of the empire in its current state, but that won’t last forever,” Shiro looked to you, concerned, but you continued, “it has taken my ancestors generations to get to this respectable of a position in the empire, but from within I see all of its flaws. When a ruler is so incredibly ruthless and a society from inception has been built on war and ego, normal good people become warped and support the wrongdoings of the powerful because they have never known any other life.”

“And I need you,” you confessed.

“There is a weapon - Voltron - it is the only thing powerful enough to even threaten Zarcon’s position on the throne and, by extension, the empire as a whole,” you made sure the human was keeping up with you as you spoke, “to stop Zarkon from ever getting his hands on it, it was split up and hidden. One of its pieces is hidden on your planet.” His brows furrowed. 

“When the time is right, we will send you back to Earth. I don’t know when and I don’t know how. All I need, is your trust.”

“Why me?” Shiro asked, not yet grasping his position in all of this.

“You’re strong, you can fight, but you’re kind,” you said softly, “this ship will wear you down, and you’ll still have to fight in the arena, but I believe that if you escape, you could save the universe.”

You felt deeply sorry for the man, to be pulled out of a human life and dragged into intergalactic warfare, to have no choice but to fight endlessly for cheap entertainment or to fight for the freedom of his home planet. 

You sighed and reached for an oxoco berry just as Shiro did, causing you to draw your hand back at the physical contact. He looked confused for a moment, before taking two berries from the bowl and holding one out towards you. You unfurled your fingers and he pressed the berry into your palm.

His skin was… warm and squishy, it felt so fragile. How did this man kill a Galra with nothing but a blade? With your cold, hard skin, tough and smooth, yet this odd fleshy creature had the strength to kill, but a warm and gentle touch.

You shook yourself from that headspace. You took the berry and bit into it, savouring the tart flavour before standing up frm your seat.

“When we are alone, you will be free to roam my room, you may speak to me however you wish, and I will do my best to make you comfortable. But you must stay here.” you instructed Shiro, “If other Galra find out that I am treating you well and that you are not just my ‘pet’ the consequences would be dire for the both of us.”

You garnered no verbal response, but a curt nod was all you needed.

“As I’m sure you realise, none of this is to be spoken of outside of this room,”

“I understand,” he said, eyes never leaving you. He was trying to figure you out, the weird purple alien man who was kind in comparison to his warmongering species.

Shiro’s last fight had been rough. He had won, and his title remained true, but this one had been difficult to watch. The monster Zarkon had wanted the human to face was something wild, enough to where a shield had been put between the arena and the audience.

It was a large winged reptile creature, a dragon-like beast with an armor-plated exoskeleton that was as sharp as the blade Shiro had been given to fight with. A small human fighting something five times his size. And yet he won.

The cost of winning was the cuts in Shiro’s skin, the red bruising across his body, and the deep gash through the back of his right hand.

Throughout the fight, you remained indifferent, allowing yourself to look mildly proud when he won -Galra pride. Inside, you were worried sick. You stood up from your seat as the chatter in the hall grew louder, and you left to collect your Champion. This was routine.

You approached the two sentries on either side of Shiro and dismissed them with a wave. Shiro was in a daze, looking down to his own blood dripping to the floor.

“Champion,” you spoke, attempting to draw him from the state he had fallen into. But he didn’t move, he didn’t even blink.

“Shiro?” you said, much quieter.

His head shot up to look at you, eyes wide with fleeting panic, but was quickly replaced with a mournful look.

“You must accompany me back to my quarters,” you said, quickly turning on your heel to leave. You didn’t want to be in that arena a moment longer, and you knew Shiro wouldn’t want to stay either.

He limped behind you slowly, and you turned, noting his pace and slowing your own to match. He trailed behind you as the two of you passed rows of holding cells and other Galra soldiers who saluted you as you passed by. Not one of them questioned your dynamic with Shiro.

You were thought to be ‘eccentric’ for wanting to keep a gladiator as a pet, and a human at that. But some admired you for wanting to keep a creature so deadly in the arena close to you. It gave you the excuse you needed to have Shiro’s cell in your room and to take him around with you as you pleased.

Shiro stumbled slightly, and you quickly turned to catch him from falling.

“Sorry-” he said instinctually.

“Are you alright?” you whispered quickly. That far away look in his eyes bothered you.

Shiro didn’t respond, instead swallowing what little saliva was in his mouth and attempting to continue walking. You let him take two steps before he once again fell under his own weight. You looked around quickly.

After deciding the two of you were alone, you pulled him up off the floor and heaved him up under his legs. Shiro made some odd sounds of displeasure but was a little too dazed to fully protest as you carried him the rest of the way to your quarters.

---

The human lay silently on your bed, breathing rhythmically, sound asleep. The mattress dipped slightly as you sat down next to him, and you prepared the food you held on a tray.

His skin was still so soft despite all of the scars, dried skin and calluses. His hair - that you did your best to keep in shape - was beginning to turn grey at the front of his hairline.

Shiro stirred and slowly woke, immediately trying to sit himself up on your bed. You watched the pain shoot through his hand as he attempted to move his fingers, and you pushed him to lie back down. You felt an odd sting in your heart, but pushed it away to focus on what you needed to do.

“Don’t move too quickly,” you advised as Shiro’s eyes focused, and he looked over his now heavily bandaged body. You slowly helped him rise and pushed a pillow behind him as he sat up against the headboard. He adjusted to the new position and you held a spoonful of a pale, mushy paste in front of him. He looked up at you hesitantly but nonetheless took a small bite.

“Shi- What the hell is that?” the human complains loudly, sticking his tongue out. You couldn’t help but laugh a little, and Shiro paused at the sound. He smiled a little and you quickly realised what you had done, taking the smile from your face but not quite putting your mask back up.

“I’m not sure. It’s something from a planet with beings similar to humans,” you explained, inspecting the food in the bowl, “it is high in nutrients and should help you recover.”

“It looks like porridge, but it tastes like soggy zucchini,” he remarked.

You licked a little of the end of the spoon and frowned at the taste. While you had no idea what the words Shiro said meant, you agreed that the taste of the food was rather unmatched with its texture.

You put the tray to the side for the time being and handed the human a glass of water. He held it carefully with one hand, and attempted to raise the other but grunted and put his hand back down to the bed.

His hand that you had wrapped so tight, you hoped it would reduce his movement and help with his pain. His hand that had been sliced through completely, damaging his muscles and tendons. And you hated to see him in pain like this.

He took a moment to close his eyes before taking a sip of the water. Once he had enough, he leaned over you, reaching to place the glass back on the table before dramatically slumping over, leaning his head on your shoulder. He let out a groan and attempted to sit back up again, but you held his shoulder in place, and he gave up quickly, resting on your shoulder once more.

The physical contact was comforting, and for some reason you could feel your mask slipping again.

“I care for you,” you found yourself saying suddenly. Your voice was oddly gentle.

“And that makes me… afraid,” you confessed. Shiro looked at you with his brows furrowed.

“I have never cared for someone the way I care for you,” you said solemnly, “but I cannot always help you.”

Shiro looked at you, and you motioned to his hand. He could barely move it without being in pain, and he couldn’t fight in this state. You lifted yourself from the bed partially and assisted him in lying down over the bedsheets.

“Haggar and her druids will be able to fix you,” you mentioned, “but once you are with them, you are out of my care, and I cannot intervene.”

“What do you mean?” Shiro asked, looking into your eyes and seeing nothing but worry behind your transparent wall of indifference.

“She’s… a witch. I don’t know what she’ll do to you, and I can’t stop her,” you said slowly.

“But she can heal you,” you told the human, lying down next to him on your bed, “it’s been a struggle keeping you away from her for this long.” Both of you lay across from each other, staring into each other’s eyes, attempting to decode the other’s thoughts.

He was part of something bigger than you. You were so small and insignificant in his life, but you wanted so desperately to be selfish - to spend forever like this with him.

“If she looks in your mind, she’ll see this,” you said to Shiro quietly, “we will be compromised, and you’ll be in even more danger than you already are,”

“What do you suggest? We can’t hide memories,” he asked, choosing his world carefully.

You couldn’t find it within you to answer. You had spent the past few months with this man, trying to endure as little damage came to him as possible. Looking out for both his physical health and his mind. Yet you had somehow gotten too attached.

“(y/n)?” Shiro asked, sounding slightly concerned as he reached out with his good hand to caress your shoulder.

“No… we can’t.” you said softly. Not a complete lie.

You brushed the side of his face with your hand, moving his hair slightly out of his face.

“Shiro, I love you,” you confessed in a whisper. ‘Love’ was not a word you’d ever use lightly, but there was no other way for you to put it. Though you attempted to avoid expressing such emotion, and therefore were not very well versed, you knew how you felt.

Behind the gates, there were a dozen different creatures of varying species. An Earthling stood at the front of the line, quivering and dressed in an oversized prisoner’s tunic. He was short, scrawny and - by the fear in his eyes - didn’t have the strength to fight.

Perhaps, you thought, by some miracle, this boy would somehow manage to scrape by with only a severe injury. Perhaps you could leave, tell your fellow commanders that the prisoners are too weak for a proper fight and it bores you. That way, you might not have to watch.

A sentry walked down to the gate, rifle pointed squarely at the Earthling boy. In a flash, another Earthling appeared, pulling the rifle from the sentry’s grip and pushing the droid into the wall. It sparked and slumped over, showing the Earthling’s strength.

You watched intently as the audience roared.

The man was tall, broad-shouldered and muscular enough to put up a fight. His back was turned to you, but his body language showed no hint of fear. With the bayonet he held, the man turned to his fellow prisoners and took a slash at the weak one.

Over the cheering and yelling of the area’s audience, you couldn’t hear a word of what he yelled, but another sentry arrived and forcefully took the Earthling by his arm. You averted your eyes momentarily as the gates opened.

There was clearly some relation between the Earthlings, and in a bid to save the boy who couldn’t fight, this man had put himself first in line to face Myzax. It was smart, you had to admit, but watching someone sacrifice themself somehow made it worse than just watching them die.

Myzax roared and the spectators cheered as the Earthling was handed a Galran sword. And the fight began at once.

The large gladiator let the energy orb on the end of his bat charge for a moment before hurling the orb at the Earthling. Barely dodging, the man tripped himself over to get away. Unrelenting, Myzax threw the orb again. In a desperate attempt to dodge, the man rolled over and jumped at the Galra, landing a shallow cut on his arm before retreating from the orb once more.

And the game of Salixan wolf and rodent began.

For a while, the Earthling only dodged, ducking behind the pillars of the arena, seemingly formulating something. The energy orb was thrown again, this time the man used his sword's flat edge as a shield. He was knocked back significantly, but didn’t fall. Once again, Myzax threw the orb. The man knelt down, raising his sword to cover himself as the impact pushed him into the dusty floor.

Myzax raised his bat, the orb flying back to recharge. As the mechanical wiring hummed deep under the loud yelling of the Galran audience, the Earthling lunged to take a swing at the gladiator. A large gash cut across the gladiator’s shoulder, slicing through his neck.

The Galra wobbled on his feet, purple-red blood spilling down his chest. Weakly, Myzax lifted the orb on its plinth and hurled it at where the Earthling had drawn back to.

Panicked upon seeing the energy orb once more, the man rolled away from the incoming projectile. One hit on the ground. The gladiator swung his arm around as much as his injury would allow, the orb flying back over to the Earthling. Narrowly dodged again, he was taking advantage of Myzax’s weakened state. Twice now, and the orb drew back for the final attack. The man raised his sword again.

A third hit. The metal sword shattered, and the orb flew back to Myzax. Before the hum of the recharge could even start, the Earthling jumped and plunged the blunted half of the snapped sword through the gladiator’s chest. With a loud roar, Myzax fell to his knees. The undefeated, killed by an Earthling - of all species.

The spectators cheered more, louder still, and the man standing in the centre of the arena let out a scream of victory. He played to the crowd well.

Without thinking for a moment more, you slammed your fist into the arm of your chair and rose.

“Who’s is he?” your voice sounded over everyone, quiet falling throughout the room.

You stood in silence for a moment, looking across the Galra commanders.

“The Earthling would be mine,” a commander a few rows down announced as he stood.

“I want him. Name your price,” you stated, voice loud and confident. If you could get a hold of this Earthling, you might just be able to do a little good in this universe.

“4000 GAC,” the commander you didn’t know requested.

“Done.” you said, definitively.

“I offer 5000!” A voice called a few chairs to your right. Commander Sendak.

“This is no auction,” you chastised.

“I will not stand down!” he called, turning towards to owner of the Earthling.

“Sendak! You and I both know that I can outbid you.” you reminded him, keeping yout voice level and confident. As a decorated warrior from a long line of commanders, you had the power of currency on your side.

Sandak huffed and stopped for a moment before turning to look up at the Emperor.

“Permission to exercise my Galra rights, my Emperor?” he asked, bowing slightly.

You lowered your head in respect and looked back up to see Zarkon nod.

“I challenge you to a Sar duel for ownership of the Earthling fighter!” Sendak called, as soon as he received Zarkon’s permission.

“Come now, we are in an arena, and the people want a fight,” he taunted as he saw the torn expression on your face.

“I accept.” you said, determined. You may not want to fight, but you couldn’t risk leaving the Earthling with anyone else.

“What are your terms?” the unknown commander asked.

“If I win, I get the Earthling and Commander Sendak shall be sent off to the Javeeno Star System with no crew, for reconnaissance and surveillance.” you called, the crowd surrounding you applauded your decision, “And you?”

“If I win, I take the prisoner. And you, Commander (l/n), will be stripped of rank and sent to Noxxal to die a dishonourable death!” Sendak shouted.

The room went quiet with murmurs. Noxxal… you would die from starvation, if the cold didn’t get to you first. A dishonourable death, to not be killed in battle.

“And the loser pays 5000 GAC for the victor?” you clarified, looking to the Earthling’s finder.

“Agreed.”

“Agreed.”

“The terms are set. Let us begin,” you announced. Both Sendak and you descended to the arena floor.

“Hold the Earthling!” Sendak commanded, and two sentries stood at either side of the man, leading him back out through the arena gate.

Sendak took gauntlets, his weapon of choice. They were great meatal things that pulsed with Galran energy. This was the only advantage he had over you.

You chose to take a battleaxe. Versatile and deadly, you knew them well.

“Vrepit sa.”

“Vrepit sa…”

You immediately took first swing at Sendak, purposefully overshooting and missing him. The swing went past his ear, and took him off guard, leading him to turn in an attempt to throw a punch at your gut. In his moment of pivot, you took the haft of your axe directly to his face.

He stumbled backwards, nose dripping with blood. You swung again, leaving him no time for recovery, a jab at his chest that he narrowly avoided. And again, quickly, but he had recovered in time and grabbed your axe’s blade with his gauntlets.

He threw your axe to his side, and you barely kept your grip. This was how the fight continued. You would hit a blow, he would recover, and Sendak would send you backwards.

A slash to his knee, a hit to your stomach, a jab that very nearly took his ear off, a punch square to your nose - revenge for that first hit you got on him. Finally, after 10 minutes of equally balanced fighting, you decided to play dirty. This Earthling was worth the life of the idiot known as Sendak.

You backed up slowly, reaching a pillar, then swung and lodged your axe at an angle in the stone. You threw yourself at Sendak, going for the gauntlets. You sent a jab at his neck, causing him to lose his breath enough for you to kick with all your might at his left gauntlet. With a crackle of power, the purple glow dissipated and the glove stopped responding.

Sendak growled at you and shook the gauntlet off his hand, immediately lunging at you. You dodged, but not enough, as he grabbed you by the arm, spun you, and hooked his arm around your neck. Gauntlet to your throat, he held you there, spluttering for a breath that wouldn’t come. Your body burned with adrenaline and you stomped at his feet under you, kicking back at his shins.

Sendak walked backwards slowly to avoid your kicks until his back was pressed up against a pillar. Perfect.

With the last of your oxygenated strength, you reached out for the axe that was lodged in the stone. In one quick pull, the axe swung at Sendak’s arm and your face. At the last moment, you shifted your head to the side, lodging the axe entirely through Sendak’s arm.

His grip fell limp, and you took a great inhale of air.

The crowd roared in cheer, and Sendak made a barely audible noise - like a whimper - that only you could hear.

“Consider that payment for challenging me.” You spoke lowly in his ear, before turning to leave.