#I’m sure it would’ve been cool if they didn’t slap the Voltron name onto it which essentially tainted the damn legend it left

[toastess-with-the-mostess]

Dear god don’t even get me started on this, I know you’re focusing on lances characterization but I wanna call out the character dynamics specifically

Every show before vld made the team BELIEVABLE, they cared for each other, constantly had each others backs, and actually fucking got along

With vld there were specific groups to the team and not that they all bonded equally. And ofc there’s the thought of “oh but the other shows had that too!” Yeah but not as egregious as vld. Lance mostly stuck around Hunk and Pidge since they were a trio beforehand but those two definitely were closer together than with him because of their genius, Allura and Coran only ever showed a strong bond with each other with makes sense but they were always a duo instead opening up for the team and same with Keith and Shiro, though at least Shiro had some connection to most of the others. I don’t think after s1-3 tops have the team ever spent time together aside from furthering some kind of agenda or defending the universe

But pre-vld? They hung out regularly, Dotu specifically had them helping the locals rebuild and giving out aid in between battles other than just having plain fun together like when they went swimming or had Arus participate in the fucking space Olympics. V3D was a little more action focused but everyone was always together and made sure to have each others backs when their own government didn’t give a damn about them (constantly confided in each other for mission planning and at least had one episode where everyone dogged on pidge for bullying hunk into the dark side a la miraculous which he forgave him for and became friends again). For vf we literally see that they’ve been keeping tabs on Keith FOR THE FIVE WHOLE YEARS HES BEEN SOLO and right when he comes back they stick together best they can and even have a few days where they not only bond with each other (episode 20 where they go to a luxury hotel to get some rest and relaxation together) but with their own damn lions (episode 15 where Keith eats pizza with black lion)!!!

Vld tried to get us to believe that the team cared for each other but at the end they really didn’t and lances self doubt about fitting in was all the more valid because there were already established groups he couldn’t join in! They tore down every character to the most basic points and consequently tore apart the thing that powered Voltron in the fucking first place! UNITY!!

You literally cannot have this giant robot that fucking runs on the power of friendship and incredible violence actually work IF NONE OF THE TEAM ARE ACTUALLY FRIENDS OR UNITED ENOUGH TO STICK TOGETHER THROUGH IT ALL (looking at you Keith)

I haven’t forgotten that episode in later seasons either where the team got spaced and they immediately started turning on each other instead of thinking it through only by the end for Keith to suddenly be the voice of reason WHEN HE NEVER WAS IN THE FIRST PLACE and calm them all down.

If I’m wrong about anything vld please do correct me as it’s been a hot minute since I’ve finished it but something tells me even though I may be wrong on some facts the overall idea doesn’t even get shaken

i am as always thinking about voltron. because i have issues. but i really and truly cannot get over vld’s flanderisation of lance’s character, it actually aggravates me to no end!!!

in the franchise, lance has been established to be an ace-flyer, incredibly perceptive (specifically in dotu and vttd, the source material + the closest sequel!), impulsive, and cocky—but his cockiness had SUBSTANCE. he knew he was that good. to me vforce has one of the best lance characterisations in how they get him: he’s a great flier, he’s a dependable figure of authority, he’s snarky, he bites back, he has the right amount of silliness and pettiness dotu lance had. in vforce, everyone could get teased by the narrative! it wasn’t one or two characters taking the brunt (hi vld hunk and lance!).

but in vld, they practically cut out all those parts of lance, the flying, the perceptiveness, his confidence, and then give it to keith (whose original personality had been then given to shiro). they leave him with the cockiness, but there’s nothing to back it up. they orchestrate keith and lance’s rivalry to be one-sided and terribly unbalanced because keith IS better than lance in a lot of things. this was never the case before, they had strengths and weaknesses that the other complemented and would sometimes cause conflict (vttd is a great example of this!).

i think the reason why it bothers me so much, is because this is first time lance has been latino and not white (not counting golion’s isamu in this). the first time! and the moment he is, they take away his skills and his strengths, have him bullied by the narrative and made into a joke, never taken seriously, and dialed up his flirtatiousness to over 9000. the only time i can actually recall lance being flirtatious in the franchise was in ddp’s run, but even then it wasn’t nearly as prominent or excessive as vld lance’s nonstop flirting. he gets keith’s leftover lion, he gets a sword like keith, he’s allura’s second choice, he never really finds his place in the team.

the arc of feeling like a seventh wheel or insecurity wouldn’t bother me if he had history in the franchise of this, if his character wasn’t established the way it was, but he doesn’t! and its not like vld’s narrative does much to disprove lance’s insecurity—in fact it winds up doing the opposite most of the time. on the surface vld and dotu lance seem similar, but deeper down i feel like the writers just…lost the plot. it’s not that you can’t branch out in reboots or explore other pathways, but it’s just so blatant to me in how they’d taken so much from him and passed it off to other characters. where’s the love for the source material in that? where’s the respect? i don’t know, maybe i’m just going on and on, but it haunts me.

[ambivalentangst]

Could you do the locked in a cage bingo thing? I think you could do it well. Maybe the galra captured our lance or maybe on a different planet they find something about lance that is really rare or something. You know?

Of course! I kind of combined your two suggestions, so I hope you don’t mind, but I like the outcome a fair amount. Thanks for the prompt, and enjoy your fill!

Want to help me reach bingo? Check out this post for more info

tw: brief threat of self sacrificial suicide

Lance’s feet kicked lightly at the night air from where they hung off the roof of the temple he sat on, leaning back to put weight on his palms. His fingers ached from hours upon hours of driving back sentries and organic soldiers alike. The Quelfinians had an intricate city, designed from the visions of their first king, apparently. Whatever the hell had inspired the painstaking twists and turns and tunnels of the thing, it was hellish to both attack and defend. Voltron would secure one entry point, but then they’d get a call about another and when they finished that, they’d be back at the other one. If Lance closed his eyes memories of slicing and blasting and fighting—both to kill and to stay alive—flashed before him, and he couldn’t stand it.

Sleep wasn’t an option for Lance tonight.

Regardless, he tossed his head back and blinked tiredly at the twinkling, unfamiliar blanket of stars above him. The planet was a little more Earth-like than most, but the massive rings encircling the place was a constant reminder that he was not home, and likely wouldn’t be for some time yet.

Lance’s eyes cast themselves to the ground sadly. At times, battle was a welcome distraction.

Lance had been forced, over time, into a state of hypervigilance. He wasn’t the worst out of them, of that he was aware. Shiro was always on edge from the arena, and Keith for reasons he never disclosed, but Lance speculated about at times like these when the idea of sleep was painful despite how his body craved rest. Still, in some way or another the constant paranoia and their collective, precarious position on the edge of an incredibly sharp knife got to them all. Even so, the scuttling of pointedly non-human feet wasn’t enough warning for Lance to stop strong arms from wrapping around his torso and hands from clamping over his mouth.

He lashed out with a bony elbow that had cleared paths through the halls at the Garrison, bit at the plated hands dragging him from his perch, but there was a cloth being pressed over his nose and mouth, and no amount of assholery in school had taught Lance how to resist chloroform—or something like it, anyway—and he succumbed with nothing on his mind but concern for the others. If they had them too, Lance would do whatever it took to bust them all out.

He woke on a cool, metal floor that swayed from side to side when he sat upright too suddenly and sent the world quite literally spinning. Lance blinked a few times to clear the blurriness in his vision remaining from a lack of sleep. What the hell?

When he rushed to the bars of wherever he was being kept he saw that the ground was shockingly far away, and surrounding him in equally terrible predicaments were examples of exotic creatures Lance had seen depicted in their most sacred murals and statues, all looking undeniably miserable. His lip curled in disgust. Sure, being locked in a cage hanging from, going off of what he saw the other prisoners in, a chain attached to the ceiling sucked, but it was one thing for him to suffer. Lance rarely had as good of a time as he would’ve liked lately, but he was alright sacrificing that enjoyment if it meant other people—creatures—got it instead. Seeing something like this just really, really pissed him off.

His hands slammed onto the bars, rattling them as best as he could.

“Hey!” he shouted angrily. “Hey! Let me out of here! What’s going on?” Lance listened to his voice echo around the cavern where he was being housed and die out with no response. He yelled again, something rather similar but made a bit more colorful with the addition of a few choice words. Again, silence and Lance retreated to the corner of his current quarters to stew, but not after calling out one last time.

“You’re all rude, you know that?”

He hoped that at least being abrasive—a true talent of his, if he did say so himself—would garner some attention, but nada. Zero, zilch. Goose eggs.

Lance huffed. His hair was greasy since he hadn’t gotten to wash it after the battle, and that was insult to injury. He spread out on his back and tried to busy himself with that one stupid song about beer on the wall to distract himself from the fact that he a, felt gross, and b, couldn’t do shit about anything happening to him right now.

If there was anything Lance hated, it was being stagnant.

After a seeming eternity of foot shaking and finger tapping, he heard scuttling. Lance perked up, rushing to the sides of his trappings to see what was going on. Doing so with his speed sent the thing swaying again, but Lance was too busy watching the Quelfinian below him move around on its creepy multitudes of legs to even notice.

“Hey, you!” The creature looked up with its cluster of beady eyes, antennae twitching in alarm, pointing to itself warily. Lance nodded angrily. “Yeah, you! Is there any other thing in here that can understand me?”

From off to the side, Lance heard a sound that sounded equal parts a cat’s meow and a donkey’s bray. Lance ducked his head bashfully, throwing his response over his shoulder quickly.

“Sorry!” His blue eyes went back to the Quelfinian below him but found they had all but disappeared into thin air. He shouted and kicked at the bars, only to yelp as he got a jolt of electricity as his unwanted reward.

Another cry from, presumably, the same creature, and Lance traced it back to an animal that looked vaguely moose-like, save for the fact that its pupils were slit and it moved on paws while its forked tongue flicked at the air. Lance was a little off put by that, he wasn’t going to lie, but whatever it was was the only thing around that could maybe understand him, and Lance wasn’t going to waste the company.

“Do you know what’s going on?” Another bray, which wasn’t really as helpful as Lance was hoping it to be. He frowned but devised a solution quickly.

“Bray once for yes, twice for no,” he instructed, before clearing his throat and getting ready to unleash the best friendly interrogation he’d ever done in his life. His questions died in his throat as he heard more alien footsteps, and did a one eighty to glare down at the same Quelfinian from before, and the one seemingly leading him. Lance gave the creature his best glare, and it waved with one set of pinchers.

“Paladin of Voltron!” it called. Lance flipped it off. It frowned, or as best as something could frown when it had the mouth of a fly. Its pinchers clicked nervously and looked to the first.

“What does that mean, Xocti?” Xocti shrugged, and creature huffed, slapping it roughly while Lance’s head drew back in alarm.

“I told you not to aggravate him! What if those Galra come back? We need him in top shape. Don’t be rude.” Lance snorted, hands on the bars of the cage again. At the moment, they weren’t shocking him. The one who had spoken and seemed to be in charge looked up to him in a mixture of wonder and bemusement. “What’s brightened your mood, paladin?” Lance held up a finger as if to shush him.

“One, the name’s Lance, not paladin. Two, what makes you think I’m about to protect anybody who has me locked in a cage,” the bars shocked him again, and Lance hissed, “Nonetheless a cage that keeps attacking me?” Xocti shrank back, and the eight eyes of the other Quelfinian blinked up at him in surprise.

“Apologies, Lance. I should’ve asked, but you were a little indisposed, forgive me. I myself am the esteemed Freg, high advisor to the priestess.” His creepy mouth spread in what Lance thought was supposed to be a smile. His blue eyes narrowed. “And of course you’ll defend Quelfin! Aren’t you a paladin of Voltron, sworn to protect the universe?” Lance arched a brow contrarily.

“You bet your ass I am, but we don’t have to do shit, Freg.” What a horrible name, honestly. It sounded like a title for an accountant from the Lord of the Rings or something. Needless to say, Lance was not impressed. “We protect people who need protecting. If anything, we have a habit to attack guys who, you know, kidnap us.”

Freg stared at him and then looked back at Xocti.

“Xocti, you were originally saved by Lance, do you think he is being serious?” Lance gritted his teeth.

“He is right here.” They both ignored him. Xocti nodded.

“I am afraid so. He is speaking very similarly to how he communicated with his fellow paladins. It is in line with what I have seen of him.” Freg turned back to Lance, looking distinctly displeased. He stamped a cluster of spindly legs, voice coming out in the nasal whine of a child being told they weren’t going to get their way.

“Why not?” Lance stared incredulously at him.

“Why not? How about because I’m dangling twenty feet above the ground with some other assorted victims of yours, and you’ve shocked me a bunch with your dumb cage!” He smacked the side of it for emphasis and pretended the jolt it unleashed didn’t hurt. Freg looked upset.

“Well, paladin, I’m a collector. You can’t expect me to allow my things to just run amuck! What would happen if I lost one?” Lance stifled his disgust to the best of his ability.

“Living things aren’t supposed to be collected.” Freg���s eyes practically shone, and Lance gulped nervously, doing his best to keep his gaze steely.

“But of course they are! You don’t seem to realize it, Lance, there’s an entirely unique thrill to having something nobody else can. For example, Xocti tells me you were speaking with my Vohgt!” He scurried over to stand beneath the cage of the not-moose-thing, which looked to Lance nervously and brayed. He sympathized.

“Don’t you worry, I’m gonna’ get you out of there, buddy!” Freg frowned.

“You most certainly are not,” he scolded Lance, a gland on the top of his head puffing out unattractively. “It’s the only one left on Quelfin, worth a fortune. There’s no other like it.” Lance ignored the rest of the ramble that persisted from there in favor of meeting the Vohgt’s eyes, blinking at him nervously. Lance swore that when he got out of the stupid cage, he’d let the creature trample Freg. Lance’s attention was brought back to his captor with another shock from the bars, and he glared sharply down at the alien.

“So,” Freg began slowly, “You stay put and keep me safe, and none of my precious, living possessions get hurt.” Lance blinked in surprise. Apparently, the tangent he’d spaced out for wasn’t all pompous bragging about the enslavement of endangered species. Lance scoffed.

“As if you’d actually hurt anything in here. You’re too shallow for that.” Freg seemed offended, and Lance smirked at the way his antenna jerked in alarm.

“Don’t test me, Lance!” he cried, voice going up into a crack. Lance snickered behind his hand. Freg was fuming at his amusement with it all and turned to Xocti.

“Xocti, bring me the Vohgt. We have to show the paladin, Lance,” he spat his name like it was a bad bite of food he couldn’t stand to taste a moment longer, “That we are not to be trifled with!” Lance raised a brow, watching the cage carrying the creature descend with the press of a button on a remote Lance now noticed in Xocti’s grasp. Freg was incensed.

“Oh, I’ll show you, Lance. You will defend me with your dying breath,” he hissed, voice growing into something less human, monstrous in its hissing clacks and faint buzz. Lance merely grinned, ignoring the faint sense of unease curling in the depths of his stomach. Freg looked really mad, and as much fun as he had watching the creature waddle around in a fit, the cage was getting awfully close to the ground. Surely, though, he had to be bluffing. In its swaying confines the Vohgt paced from side to side, paws brown and soft against the metal. Lance smiled down at it.

“Don’t worry, you’re gonna’ be fine,” he told it, and it made a low, fearful sound in response that felt like thorns pricking Lance’s heart. His gaze shifted, locking on Xocti, who was unlocking the cage.

“Touch it the wrong way and Voltron is going to burn you and this place to ashes,” Lance hissed. Xocti froze, looking back to Freg fearfully. He waved his pinchers, motioning for him to continue.

“The Voltron paladins don’t know where we are. Lance is full of empty threats. Continue.” Lance’s hands gripped the bars so hard his knuckles turned white.

“Don’t you dare,” he growled as Xocti crept up on the poor thing, hissing from the corner of its trappings. Lance saw the dull claws the Vohgt tried to unsheathe, and shook the walls harder, voice climbing up into a shout. “Hey! I’ll protect you and do whatever else you want! Don’t touch it!” A shock came, but Lance kept his hands glued to the bars, throwing himself at them more violently. Freg looked pleased, crossing his arms. Still, no order to stop was delivered, and Lance grasped at any straw he could.

“Stop! Stop now and I’ll fight for you, or I’ll break my bones getting out of here and I’ll chuck myself off the top of this cage so you don’t have a paladin at all!” Lance’s chest heaved, watching the fear in the wide pupils of the creature, who after careful examination Lance now recognized from the tapestries adorning the halls of the main temple. Freg finally motioned for Xocti to stop, grinning wide enough to span the spread of all eight of his eyes.

“Agreeable as ever, Lance,” he told him, all traces of anger washed away as a very relieved Xocti backed out of the cage and slammed it shut. The Vohgt whimpered softly, and Lance settled onto the floor. He supposed he needed to get comfortable.