Littlespace Voltron Oneshots

Little Keith and Little Akira & Krolia: Power Out

Is it bad my mind set this entire time was:
Keith: Devil child, will pull harshly on things, destroys everything, breaks minor rules, is very attached to his elder brother and Mama
Akira: Shy, very sweet, wants to help his Mama out whenever he can, is just very precious, . . . TRAUMA!!!

I'm so nice to my characters.😇

"Keith! Akira! Can you two come here please?" Krolia yelled from the kitchen. There was shuffles before stomping on the ground. Krolia smiled as both her babies came running down. Keith, who's headspace was around four, ran straight up to her. Pouncing into her arms. Akira, who's headspace was around six, stayed and waited for an order. It wasn't until Krolia made motion that he could come over that he slowly walked over and hugged her as well. "So I was thinking that we should get something greasy to eat, huh? Like fast food?"

"Taco Bell!" Keith recommended. Krolia looked over at Akira, who shrugged and dug his face into the croak of her neck. The height difference was weird. Krolia was 6'5, Akira was 5'7, and Keith was 5'2. It was a bit hard for Akira to put his face in her neck but he found comfort there.

"Alright, I'll order Taco Bell. Akira, is there something you want?" Krolia asked again. Akira shrugged and tightened his grip around her. Keith bounced off and began wabbling over to the knives. He knew that Akira was shy at times. And he was going to touch a knife. "Keith Texas Kogane you better stop in your tracks."

"Bu Mama!" Keith fussed, pointing at the knifes. He just wanted to touch them!

"No, we don't touch knifes while we're small. How about you hobble back upstairs and continue to play with your toys?" Krolia recommended. Keith huffed but did as told, rushing back upstairs to go play with his cars. Krolia looked back to her eldest son and smiled. "What do you want for lunch, love?"

Akira shrugged as Krolia brought his face out of her neck, holding a firm grip on his chin. He loosened his grip and tried to get away from his mother but Krolia brought him back. She could tell he wanted something. But getting something out of him was hard. With his past, he wasn't aloud to have an option or make recommendations. It just stuck with him when he got adopted by the Kogane's.

"Subway?" she asked, earning a shrug. "McDonalds?" Another shrug. This went on for a while and Akira seemed to be getting more nervous by the second. When Krolia couldn't name anymore fast foods she went onto some homemade foods. It wasn't until she named ramen that Akira had a small spark into his eyes. A spark it took her a little while to learn. "I'll go make some ramen," she booped his nose before letting him go. He smiled at her before running back upstairs.

Krolia ordered Keith two bean burritos and her a chicken taco. She wanted to wait before making Akira's dinner. She wanted to make it around ten minutes before their food came so that Keith wouldn't start complaining or it got cold.

"I'm coming up stairs!" she warned before walking to the boy's room that they shared. They never really minded sharing a room. Most nights Keith will sleep inside their shed because his Dad use to spend a lot of time there. She got some okays as she came closer.

She opened the door and saw Keith crashing a small hot wheel car into the wall. Akira was drawing on a piece of paper. Krolia frowned and sighed as Keith rolled another car into the wall. Her new mood grabbed Akira's attention, who back up a little bit.

"Keith, what have I told you about that?" she asked in a firm voice. Keith froze as he held his next car. He had a big collection. "Don't do that. You're starting to scratch the paint."

"Bu its funnnn!" Keith whined, looking up at her.

"Here, use this," she smiled, handing him a square piece of wood. Keith . . . he collects random things. Screws, wood, hair ties, pencils, tape measures, hot wheels. A lot of things. He frowned but placed the wood in front of the wall. Fortianlly he gasped and smiled at the sound the hot wheels made with the wood.