#omega shield

[torveiglyart]

Chapter One is UP!

Everyone give a HUGE THANKS to Aralinedelia for writing this!!

Chapter two link:

[pink-haired-anime-men]

SPOILERS FOR VOLTRON S6E1 :

Lance died on an episode called "Omega Shield" while Shielding Allura from a blast, I regretfully do not hold knowledge on what an "omega shield" is but what I do know is that the omegaverse exists! And I predicted Lance dying in this episode and called him an omega 🫠 I laughed really hard when he died especially since he SHIELDED SOMEONE and that the episode was called OMEGA shield 🤦 (I'm so childish.)

[autisticlancemcclain]

“Keith?”

Keith hums. “Yeah, Lance?”

Lance doesn’t answer right away. Keith can hear his breathing, quicker than everyone else’s, if only slightly. After all they’re the only ones awake. Everyone else is conked right out, curled up around the low-burning embers of their campfire. He’s quiet long enough that Keith is half-convinced that he isn’t actually awake, and only called out for Keith in his sleep.

(Keith couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face if he tried. He doesn’t try, though. The idea of Lance dreaming about him is a nice one.)

There’s a sharp intake of breath from beside him, confirming Lance is not asleep, then a beat of hesitation.

“Do you ever wonder what happens when we die?”

Keith blinks. He opens his mouth to answer, but stops himself. He looks up at the unfamiliar stars, tracing random constellations. There’s a sword, where Orion usually is during Earth summers. And a lick of flame, replacing the Big Dipper.

The brightest star in the sky shines red.

“No,” Keith says softly. “It’s — dangerous. Letting myself think about that. We’re too close, you know? I don’t want my last thought to be panicking about what’s to come. I want it to be — not that. I don’t know.”

“Oh.”

Keith waits for Lance to offer an explanation, a reason for his curiosity, or even a subject change. When nothing comes Keith shifts, propping himself up on his elbow and glancing over at the red paladin.

“Why do you ask? Just curious?”

It’s a long time, again, until Lance answers, but this time Keith knows he’s not asleep. He’s tense, lying ramrod straight, head centred on his pillow and arms hooked over his blanket. His brown eyes — almost black in the dark night — stare straight up, but there’s something off about his expression, something fixed and plastic.

“I was surprised, is all. It was — nothing like I expected.”

It takes a moment for Keith to process what Lance said. He almost wishes he hadn’t, when it finally clicks. Never in his life has cold dread seeped through his bones so quickly.

“…What?” He can barely hear his own voice. He can’t at all, actually, the hoarse shock of it swallowed up by the crackling of the coals and cooing of nocturnal insects and wildlife.

Lance, though, must have heard him anyway, or been expecting his shock, because the plastic stiffness melts from his expression as he shoots straight up, scrambling to his feet and pacing back and forth barely paces away from the small flames. Bizarrely, Keith chokes down the urge to warn Lance about the uneven ground that he might trip on.

“I — I was never religious, you know?” One of his hands tugs at his hair, making the dark curls frizzy the more he messes with it. The other waves frantically back and forth, faster with every word. “None of us really were. But Mamá dragged us to church anyway. Every Sunday. Maybe to give us something to be bored about, I don’t know. She never really explained herself. I didn’t ask.” Lance stops abruptly, loud hands freezing, marching back to his bedroll and standing on it for a moment, looking lost. “I don’t — it’s not that I liked it. It was boring as hell. But I — I guess I believed some of it. I dunno.” Before Keith can blink he collapses on top of his blankets, like his strings have been cut. Both hands slide in his hair, now, dark strands clenched between his fingers, elbows resting on his knees. “It was just…dark, though,” he says softly. “Empty.”

Keith feels as if he’s encased in ice. His heart pounds, galloping against his chest, rushing blood through his ears so quickly he can hardly hear anything else. Part of him hopes Lance is playing some kind of cruel joke, but he knows he isn’t.

“When did you —” he doesn’t even know how to phrase it. Hell, he doesn’t know what he’s phrasing, really. “What —” He trails off again, lost. He looks at Lance blankly. Something bitter floods his mouth.

He imagines, for a moment, making this trek home without Lance. It’s not something he’s allowed himself to think about before. Even with Shiro missing, he’d stubbornly refused to even entertain the idea that Shiro was gone for good. The only time he’d let himself think about it was — was Naxzela. And even then, he was the one sure would be going.

They come to him now, unbidden, thoughts. About life — without Lance. Without his loud teasing and big smiles and quiet kindness, without his begrudging but unwavering support, his steady hands and clear voice as he says we’re all behind you, Keith, we’ve got you. I’ve got you.

A tear burns hot down his cheek, startling him back to the stillness of the night, the cool air and quiet noise. Another follows, and another, and then he’s swallowing the giant lump in his throat and holding back a sob.

“You nearly…when?” He can’t bring himself to say the word, to ask directly. To ask would make it real, concrete.

“The Omega Shield,” Lance whispers. He has yet to look up, but has stopped pulling so harshly on his hair. “A blast just —” he shudders. “Right through me an’ Red. You know when — when it’s cold out, and you walk a while without gloves? And your hands get so cold they burn?”

“Yeah,” Keith says softly. His lips taste of salt.

Lance glances at him. His eyes are big and brown and desperate, aching. Glassy, wet and ready to break. “It was like that. All over. Like every molecule was tearing itself apart, like I was unravelling. I was almost grateful when it stopped.”

“And when it stopped?” Keith chokes out.

“Nothing. Endless, nothingness. For a thousand eternities. I lived and grew and died for the rest of time, alone.” Lance heaves, like he’s about the sob or throw up or both.

The first tear finally drips down Lance’s face, tracing from the corner of his eye down his nose, pausing at the tip of it before dropping, finally, into his lap. It springs Keith into action, and before he can even think he surges forward, gathering him in his arms and pulling him into his lap, squeezing tightly and rocking them back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Lance doesn’t so much as twitch, crying great hiccuping sobs into Keith’s chest.

“I’m afraid to sleep,” he chokes out. “I haven’t in days. Every time I do I’m terrified I won’t wake up.”

“I’ve got you,” Keith assures, at a total loss. He lays his hand on the back of Lance’s head, holding him tightly. He can feel Lance’s heartbeat where their chests are pressed together, stuttering and sprinting.

“I don’t want to die.”

“You’re not gonna die.”

Lance only sobs again. Keith is aghast, terrified to hold him any tighter but unsure of what else to do. Lance has never been fragile, to him. He’s more stubborn than an ox, a streak of fire lighting up his spine, dark eyes shining with fury every time his forehead’s pressed to Keith’s, screeching ‘till he’s blue in the face that he’s right and Keith’s wrong and he’s gonna show it to him, just you wait and see. He’s seen Lance angry, seen him annoyed, seen him golden with the fire of competition and glowing with the brightness of his laughter. He’s seen Lance worn and insecure. Never, not once in the years Keith has known him and fought with him and led with him, has he seen Lance fragile.

But he is, right now. Now, quivering in Keith’s arms, sobs shaking his frame, Keith feels like he’s holding him together, like if he lets go Lance will shatter to shards on the floor.

So Keith holds him. He holds him until his arms ache, and past that. He holds him until his shirt is soaked and cold in the chilly air, until his knees burn from the tiny bumps of the ground. He holds him until Lance’s sobs peter out, until the orange sun of the system they’re stopping in peeks out from the horizon, stars blinking out of sight.

Hours later, Lance shifts, pulling away slightly. Keith holds tighter, refusing to let him pull away too far.

“Don’t,” Keith says, before Lance can apologize.

That cracks a smile on Lance’s face, to his own surprise. “No?” His voice is wrecked, throat no doubt raw.

“Save your apologies for when you actually do something stupid,” Keith affirms. He hesitates a second, then reaches out, brushing the frazzled curls from Lance’s forehead and wiping the tears from his cheeks. Lance winces slightly as Keith’s thumb brushes his cheekbone.

Keith pulls away. “Sorry. Rough hands.”

But Lance’s hand darts out and grabs Keith’s. “No, it’s — I don’t mind it.” He places it back on his face, shutting his eyes, breath shuddering. His sleeve falls down his arm.

Keith narrows his eyes. Criss-crossing Lance’s arms are dozens of jagged white scars, like lightning bolts across his skin.

“I wake up with more every day,” Lance explains, noticing Keith’s expression. “I was — I died, Keith.”

Keith flinches. Lance swallows, carrying on.

“I felt my heart stop. I don’t know how long, but it was…there was a severance. Something permanent. I felt it.” He runs his hands through his hair again, but much gentler this time. A fidget instead of a panicked tugging. The roots are white, like Shiro’s. “Allura did her best, I think. But I was gone so long. And she’d never done it before.”

“Is everything…working alright?” It’s an awkward way to say it. But Keith doesn’t know how else to say am I going to lose you? Later? Are you here to stay?

Lance shrugs. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to hear her tell me it’s not.”

“I don’t want to wake up one day and find out — find out, Lance.”

Lance swallows. “I know. I don’t — what do I —”

“We’ll talk to her,” Keith promises. “We’ll figure it out. I’ve got you, Lance.”

Lance’s chin trembles, but he slumps forward, exhausted. “Promise?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He’s silent for a moment, face tucked in Keith’s neck. The muffled sounds of the team waking up starts to fill the air. “I’m tired, Keith.”

“I’ll watch for you. I’ll make sure you wake up.”

“Okay,” Lance whispers again. Keith feels his eyelashes flutter closed, feels his heartbeat slow, his breathing even. “I trust you.”

As Lance starts to grow heavier in his arms, Keith tightens his hold. He presses a kiss to the top of Lance’s head.

“I’ve got you.”

I won’t let you fade away.

———

part two

[dusty-cobweb]

i think it would be interesting to explore lance’s death from the omega shield as not just his soul returning to his body and everything is exactly the same but kind of like a Quaritch avatar situation. he has all the memories of his past life— his family, the garrison, voltron, his personality and values, and yet he’s still different. at that point in time, he is not really lance anymore, just the memories of him placed into a his body. that doesn’t mean lance no longer has an emotional/personal attachment to these memories, but he can certainly be a lot more retrospective. he sees keith and respects him in a different light now, gets pisses off a lil bit at Allura and Shiro, and just is less inhibited in everything. yeah….

[fandomination666-blog]

This feels kinda like what I think Shiro would say if he heard Lance joking about dying. Like. Shiro didn't plan to die, he kinda just. Did.

Lance on the other hand... he knew what he was doing. And he would totally be the type to try to make jokes about it within hours of the team finding out.

This was originally funny in my head but now it's just sad.

Jason: no tim, it’s not the same. I make dead jokes, you make death jokes

Tim: I am failing to see how that’s any different

Jason: I didn’t want to die Tim. I didn’t make plans that would result in my own death, but you do. You plan to die.

[milkywayes]

Archangel [prints]

[bleyca-falcone]

Isis my swellow ( redone )

[angstandhappiness]

Adorable

oh man this episode just keeps getting better and better and we’re only like two minutes in

[littleeyesofpallas]

Yeah, okay, I remember now why the first time i did this it was such crap. trying to figure out some kind of optimal spacial arrangement for all this to share edges and have clear pathways for little arrows is hopeless. Anyway... pruning out all the stuff that was taking guesses at some historical setting, we still have some substantial material to play with here.

There's been this slow building thing about infinite energy from shit that came from space, it causes mega/dyna temporary transformations, and big green triangles, and the plan to link cable the meteor to another reality acknowledging the original vs remake timelines, and ultraspace, and arceus chucking people back in time, and cataclysmic events from 3000 years ago, etc... that would still be really cool to see followed up on

[skoulsons]

See that’s the thing about daisy and coulson. My girl lived in a VAN. She pretty much believed she had zero purpose. She was a lost kid desperately looking for her parents. A self taught expert hacker who moved from house to house and family to family, never staying for more than two years anywhere

And she hacks into the government because she wants to find her parents. Find out why she was just… left. Why she never had a steady household. Why she had no mother or father involved in her life. She just wanted to find her family

They catch her and she’s taken in for questioning and Coulson calls her an asset

And then he’s A.C. to her

And then he agrees to help her try and find her parents

And she feels, knows, she’s valued by him

And they don’t really find the answers, but she hugs him anyway and tells him thank you

And then SHIELD starts to change and things start happening and there’s trust issues and an uncertain future. But he’s right there.

He’s there when they’re laying low

He’s there when they’re out in public, saving civilians

He’s there in their vulnerable moments. When she’s grieving. When she’s angry. When she hates and when she’s frustrated and when she’s happy. When she’s confident and when she’s broken

And she’s there. When he doubts his capabilities. When he’s angry. When he’s happy and frustrated and uncertain.

They’re there. Even in an alternate universe. Across time. When Coulson really isn’t the same man that he used to be.

It’s in the ‘shes more than just some asset to him’

‘She’s like a daughter to you’

‘We’re her family’

‘She’s not my daughter but she’s as close to family as I’ve got’

‘She’s the closest thing I have to a daughter’

‘that’s my girl’

It’s the ‘you’re the closest thing I have to family and I just hope that deep down you feel it too’

‘You are what I believe in’

‘There are a… few things I’ve missed’

‘I love you’

[eternallovers65]

The wrestling world is held together by three very powerful entities and they are

Ambrollins (the father)

Zowens (the son)

Golden Lovers (the Holy Spirit)

[holidayking102]

Happy Birthday Poppy!

8 years ago, one of the best Undertale AU's was created, and one of the greatest AU characters was born. Happy Birthday once again to Poppy Marusina, created by @fmsdraws / @ut-poppy-askblog!

For her Birthday, I've actually made a bunch of art for her! First, have some art of her in Halloween costumes:

(Shovel Knight)

(Shield Knight; actually a request from FMS)

(Homestar Runner; with a Marzipan!Cadence, created by @g0at0ad. More to come for Halloween)

Next, here's a scary Poppy, inspired by the hit Indie game; Graveyard Shift at Freddy's! Recently FMS played it (though couldn't get past night 2, not that I blame him; the game looks very intense).

Lastly, since Poppy spin-offs are all the rage these days, here's a new Poppy for everyone to enjoy: Apoppylypse!

Apoppylypse is a large Bacteriophage Virus who infects trees to create more of themselves! Otherwise they are a very friendly, if not a bit slow, creature!

I hope FMS and Poppy have a wonderful day today!

[codypunk]

[angstandhappiness]

Sounds helpful

You know Lotor sometimes I wonder if you practise your wording in front of the mirror or used to do that in the past so much and that way of speaking is just incorporated in you so much that you just do it automatically.

Basically at some point it was deliberate to learn to talk that way to come off as more sophisticated than everyone else.

[howthemoonweeps]

bury me in your memories (i'm not the boy i ought to be)

with ten minutes left on the clock (at least where i'm at) i finished!!! here's a langsty fanfiction set post-canon to celebrate - or mourn - the end of 2024 <3

Dying was lonely.

Years ago, when Voltron was still needed throughout the universe and Lance still knew what it meant to feel alive, he had shoved Allura out of the way of a radiation flare and taken the brunt of it himself. His heart stopped, and it did not start again until Allura reached the Red Lion and revived him using her Altean magic.

Lance doesn’t know how long it took her. He couldn’t know, his only memories of the event being the excruciating pain before and the suffocating warmth after, a body on fire as Allura leaned over him. Yet despite the unsettling gap in his recollection, Lance knows intimately the feeling of death.

It’s a feeling that keeps him up at night, shivering despite the blankets heaped over his shoulders, shadows dancing on the walls as he muffles his cries to avoid disturbing his family. More often than not, Lance finds himself jerking awake from nightmares, his mind still tormenting him with the battlefield and always, always reminding him of death’s cold, isolating embrace.

On New Year’s Eve, Lance is grateful for the excuse to stay up and delay the looming terrors, even as he can’t help but ruminate over yet another year gone by. 

(Wasted.) 

The team (though they’re not much of a team anymore, are they?) had all called earlier to celebrate, despite the crazy time differences with everyone scattered throughout the far reaches of space. 

Each person reminisced on the memories they made in the past year and said what they hoped to accomplish in the year to come. Hunk had gushed over his culinary empire and all the recipes he perfected, pointing out the dishes he wanted the rest of the team to try at their next reunion. Pidge showed off their latest inventions, planning to diffuse throughout the Voltron Coalition and improve thousands of lives. Shiro proudly displayed the scarf he knitted, impossibly relaxed as he expressed his desire to take up more craft hobbies. Keith, eyes unbearably soft and face so full with open affection, just talked about his wish to aid as many people as he could with the Blade of Marmora.

And Lance?

When it came to his turn, he froze. For five embarrassing seconds, he racked his brain for something, anything memorable that set this year apart from the year before or the year coming up. Eventually, he cracked a smile, joking that he looks forward to all the corny lines he’ll bring into the new year. Everyone had groaned and moved on, unsurprised by his answer.

Now, Lance curls up in his bed, eyes burning as he scrolls through their group chat and tortures himself with his own inadequacy. The chat was meant to be a way for everyone to send updates about their lives, and while the others spammed it to their hearts’ content, it didn’t take long for Lance to drop out of the conversation and stay quiet for the most part. There were only so many pictures of juniberry flowers he could send before growing uncomfortably aware of his uneventful life.

He sighs and turns off his phone. His former teammates had all gone on to greatness, saving worlds and changing the entire universe for the better, while he was stuck in the past, a prison of his own making. His story was cut short, doomed to languish and collect dust on Earth, all so he could repeat the story of another.

And though he loves Allura too much to ever resent her, though he had given his life for her, he can’t help but feel as if he’s still giving, even though the girl he loved is gone and only ever saw him as a rebound. Yet here he is, watching over her favorite flowers with her marks on his face. 

Living as a farmer when all he had ever wanted was to fly.

He had tried for so long to convince himself that the farm life was what he wanted. After the war, a simple life should be what he, a child on the front lines, deserved. Still, as the years wore on and the days blended into each other, the simple life turned monotonous. Unbearable, even, when the night terrors refuse to leave him alone, the one companion he has left in his self-imposed solitude.

Tears spring up, so Lance shuts his eyes and buries his face into his pillow. God, he feels so ungrateful. He should be glad to have even made it out, happy to see another year when there were so many who couldn’t say the same. 

When Allura couldn’t say the same. 

Yet through it all, as Lance curls into himself and pretends that he���s not dreading the new year, loneliness climbs its way out of his throat in a sob that only just reaches the moonlight.

Dying was lonely, Lance thinks wistfully as he fades into a sleep that won’t last, but living like this wasn’t much better.

The clock strikes twelve.

[pastelxapple]

Decided to draw each of my favorite pokémon trainers for wach type!!! I counted Fairy Miku since she's part of Project Voltage, otherwise my favorite fairy trainers would be Bede and Ortega! 🩷🤍