#red bayard

[torveiglyart]

Red Paladin Lance!

It always kinda bothered me that they never switched armor colours. I understand why not in season 3-4 because switching the armor then would feel like accepting that Shiro is gone. They were convinced that the 'Changing of the Guard' was a temporary solution. But why didn't Lance and Allura swap when Shiro was back and Keith left?

Keith leaving was a conscious choice. They had one paladin too many, as Lance stated, and Keith felt he was the one who could, and should, leave. He had the Blade of Marmora to go to, whereas the other paladins would have nowhere to go.

The paladins knew generally where he was, and that he wasn't dead. So why not change armor?

Allura wore the pink as a symbol of mourning. But Shiro's back, so unless she really likes pink like her mother, she has no reason to continue wearing it. Lance has not flown, or talked to, Blue in a long while, and never does again until the season 8 conclusion. He's Red's paladin now.

It makes all the sense in the world for them to switch armor in the seasons after Keith's departure. So why didn't they? I think it's because of which paladin they are. Let me explain:

Keith is the red paladin. The Red Lion looks for someone 'hot-headed and stubborn', someone who relies more on instinct than skill. The traits of a red paladin are fiery, straightforwardness, impulsive, passionate, and self-certain. Keith tones it down a bit when leading the team in black and once he returns from the BoM, but he still has these characteristics.

Lance is the blue paladin. The Blue Lion looks for someone flexible, supportive, and creative. While we don't get to hear Allura's explanation of the Blue Lion, we can see why Blue picked Lance. He's a quick thinker, goes with the flow, and most of all, flexible. He makes what's given work, especially when it came to needing a red paladin. Not, by choice, necessarily, but he rolls with it.

Allura is not a chosen paladin. She does not have qualities that fit a specific lion quite as well as the rest do, but rather a mix. This is why she works as Blue's pilot. She has the flexibility required by Blue. So while she works as a blue paladin, she is technically not a better fit than Lance for Blue, but Lance is a much better fit in Red than Allura due to Keith in Black.

All this to say, it still annoys me they didn't change colours, but oh well.

[lgbtqreads]

New Releases: September 17, 2024

Middle Grade Wishbone by Justine Pucella Winans Ollie Di Costa wishes things could be different. He wishes the bullies at school would leave him alone. He wishes his parents would stop fighting. He wishes his sister Mia didn’t have to worry about things like paying for college. But most of all, he wishes he wasn’t so angry about all of this. When he and Mia find a two-tailed cat they name…

[happywebdesign]

That Thing

[star-child-wonders]

WIP

Weekend was boring and wanted to spice up the school board with klance

[stickyhugz]

Red Bayard

[bluemantics]

If Keith and Lance were going to fall together at any moment, it would’ve been when Keith was the black paladin.

Keith had successfully kept his walls up until then; battles left him mostly unfazed, team bonding barely nicked his armor, and even Hunk’s cooking wasn’t able to pry him open. 

Then, Shiro vanished, and everything changed. Keith suddenly was tasked with leading the team intended to save the universe. 

All his previous failings and outbursts piled up in his mind at once, nausea rolling through his body constantly. How was he supposed to do this? He was a dropout with anger and authority issues, a wild warrior without aim. Keith wasn’t meant to be anything more than a tamed beast. Even worse, if he wasgoing to step up eventually, to become something greater, he was supposed to do it with Shiro. Instead, a gaping hole had been left behind at the helm. Keith was too young. Too inexperienced. And worst of all, he was entirely alone. 

For the first time in a long time, he was vulnerable, and his aching edges were exposed to anyone brave enough to look. 

The team noticed when he started to crack, exposing his pain and his fear. 

Hunk tried to help, in his own unique way. He noticed the pale hue of the black paladin’s skin and resolved to feed him, maybe help him talk over food. However, that hardly worked, since Keith stopped eating regularly with the team. 

Even Pidge tried to relate through their unique bond. She teased him about the old stories they used to muse over together, but anecdotes about their brothers were still raw for Keith, and he lashed out. That caused Pidge to retreat quickly, her concealed hurt only worsening Keith’s guilt.  

Allura spoke to him in soothing tones that only riled him up more. It was the worst with her, even though she tried her best. Somehow, her gentle tone only reminded him of the wild thing he was. When he would respond in anger, she wasn’t afraid to rise to meet him, and instances where the whole team witnessed them clash only embarrassed him. 

But then there was Lance. That was always how it had gone since their journey started. Lance, appearing to help carry Keith’s brother. Lance, badgering him into a fight. Lance, constantly standing just to his right, prepared to offer unwanted commentary. And now he was the red paladin. 

For the first few days after the lion switch, Lance merely observed how Keith interacted with everyone silently. It made him uncomfortable. He was restless under Lance’s piercing gaze, his eyes that tracked his every choice, his normally discerning tongue that for once chose to still. 

The moment that caused Keith to snap occurred during training. He’d been staying up late every night, working extra with the bots to get better with the new black bayard. Logically, it was just as perfectly balanced as his old sword. Keith just wasn’t able to shake the feeling that the weight of it wasn’t suited to his hand.

So, he trained with it. Again and again. 

Which meant that team training during the daytime… well, it suffered. He was exhausted. Coran, watching over them, admonished Keith for it, but he could barely hear the royal advisor over the sound of his blood rushing past his ears and the clanging of his teammates moving their bayards and the bright lights shining into his pupils and the bruises settling painfully under his ribs and the pressure of his new black armor against his sternum and, worst of all, Lance’s unrelenting stare. 

He snapped back into himself, realizing the team was awaiting his reaction. Their eyes looked round and worried. Keith narrowed in on one person who was standing just at his elbow. 

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” he hissed.

There was a pause after his words. Lance’s expression remained careful, his hand coming up to rest on Keith’s shoulder, forcing a breath out of his lungs. The lights seemed to dim. 

“Let’s take a break,” Lance suggested to everyone. Marvelously, they nodded, Hunk exchanging murmurs with Allura as they both put down their weapons and began to walk toward the door. Pidge scampered up the stairs to Coran. Keith looked at Lance in bewilderment after noticing they were alone.

Lance just grinned, and it released something in Keith that had been knotted up.

“So, Samurai, I think we need to talk.” 

Lance quietly spoke to him about the team’s unease. That they all wanted to help him, but he’d regressed back to a place that was painful to see. Lance spoke of a small desert shack, a place that could be a shelter, but could also be confining in its limitations. A place to hide from the watchful stars. A place of anger, regret, and desperation.

Grief. 

Lance’s words carved out an image of a loner fulfilling his own self-destructive prophecy. It made Keith bristle. Then, however, he reminded him of other images, scenes from the recent past he’d rejected in his mourning. 

Helping Hunk perfect a recipe late at night, even if he didn’t know much about cooking besides canned beans and rice. 

Sorting Pidge’s small pieces of machinery as she ranted about a planet they’d visited. 

Allura laughing when he made a dry comment about a foreign diplomat, and then immediately failing to cover it up when said official turned around, making Keith smile as well. 

Lifting Lance off a bloody battlefield, the harsh sounds raging in the background as he carried him into Red and saved his life.

“You’re not alone.” Lance’s hands stretched out, beseeching. 

“Why did you wait so long to talk to me?” Keith breathed, as if he knew, deep down, that this talk was going to come the entire time. “Why were you so quiet?”

And Lance’s face fell. Keith regretted asking near instantly. 

“Well, you’re not the only one trying to fill in for a strong presence. I had to get used to some things, too, y’know? Convince myself that I can be right for this job.” He points between himself and the black paladin. 

It’s ridiculous. Keith wants to open his mouth, to assure Lance that he’s not just excelling, that he’s perf—

“You need to start showing up to team dinners. Stop working yourself to death at night— that was fine when you were number two, but now you gotta lead us in training,” Lance started to list off as he put a finger up for each point. “Talk to Pidge about Shiro, since she misses him too, not just you. Reassure Allura that you’re happy to lead alongside her. Just… chill the F out, dude.” Keith blinks, owlish in the face of a literal itemized list of things to fix. 

So, he tries to chill the F out. 

It isn’t easy. He still feels inadequate, out of place in every room he steps into, especially when his friends all look to him for answers. Keith often trembles with the weight of the universe. Thank god for Lance, always standing just to his right. Slowly, they open the door of that desert shack together, and he learns how to share his burden. He learns a lot of things. 

Like how Lance is deceptively smart when it comes to strategizing. Or that Lance’s empathy is a weapon, able to prevent a battle with a few well-placed words. He especially enjoys learning that Lance has curly hair, he thinks Keith is funny when no one else does, and he has a fondness for young kids due to his family. 

Lance is his right-hand man and co-leader in every sense of both terms. Their call-and-response has never been better. Oftentimes, before thinking about what Shiro might do, Keith begins to consider what Lance might do. 

And isn’t that frightening? 

They fell together after the lion switch in ways no one could have predicted. Keith feels a wild thing settle in his chest at the thought, his eyes turned toward the stars that watch him in return. 

He stays standing among the sand. He ignores the urge to retreat to shelter. Keith embraces the sky and its promise of warm, fresh rainfall. 

[vxmp-irate]

2024 Julance Week One Prompt: Broadsword

—

prompt list by @callmelyc

since his broadsword only appeared once he got the red bayard, i decided i wanted to try drawing him in the red paladin armor instead of his blue armor

cuz yea im mad they didnt swap their colors when they swapped lions i will forever be petty HE LOOKS SO NICE WITH THE RED !!

also here’s a closeup of his face cuz pretty

…and here’s the prompt list

[atla-what-is-this-site]

Voltron Bloopers

*Keith is standing holding half of his bayard in front of a sentry* *off camera*: Keith what happened?

Keith, sadly: it broke

————————

Shiro: y’all

*cut* Shiro: y’all

*cut* Shiro: Yoll?

*cut* Shiro: you’ll

*cut* Shiro: y’all- fuck, PALADINS!!

————————

*scene being filmed between Allura and Coran* Coran: ya know, your father put this handy dandy hologram into the ship so you could talk- *shiro screams off set* Allura: what the fuck was that?

Keith, appearing just on set, using two pieces of armor to trap a spider: where’s the back exit again?

————————

*Allura glaring at Keith* Keith, with his most innocent eyed expression: princess

Allura, looking away: shit i can’t do this

————————

Lance, angrily: I’ll stick you in a-

Keith: *laughing*

Lance, also laughing: stop you’re contagious!

—————————

Shiro, looking at Keith’s conspiracy board: what is

Shiro, elbowing Lance in the face: THIS- shit Lance you ok?

—————————

Pidge: I programmed this robot to- what did I program it to do again?

————————

*During “the journey”* *Shiro is strapped to the table* *Kosmo runs in and leaps up onto Shiro’s chest* Shiro: aww who’s a good boy? *pulls arm out of restraint to pet him*

Handler, rushing to drag the dog away: dammit Kosmo not again

————————

Hunk: so Pidge, what’s your favorite food?

Hunk: *opens cabinet*

Matt, working on his newest coding project in the cabinet: oh hey guys

Pidge, perfect deadpan: I guess you could say he was in the closet.

Director: get out of the closet, Matt

Matt: I’m bi

Director: NOT LIKE THAT

Hunk: Matt get off the set

————————

Coran: you ever heard of a Red tailed fishmonger?

Pidge: oh yea my brother’s one

Coran: a giant sentient mammal?

Pidge: a furry who likes fish

————————

*lance gets into the Blue Lion* *barbie girl starts playing* Lance: 🎶oh I’m a Paladin in a giant lioon🎶

————————

[autisticlancemcclain]

Keith walks into his room after a deliciously vigorous training season, wiping his sweaty face with a towel, and immediately notices something is off.

He freezes, towel clamped to the back of his neck, and carefully scans his room from corner to corner. His lock was still intact when he walked in, so unlikely break-in. His bed is still exactly as messy as it was when he left it. His dresser drawer is still left cracked slightly open, as he always leaves it, because it’s harder to put a drawer back to the same level of open it was before than to close it (he’s caught Hunk snooping through his shit many a time with this method. Thanks, Pa’s paranoia).

His gaze lands finally on a nondescript black book on his nightstand, and his eyebrows shoot up. He finished his book this morning and returned it to the library on his way to the training room.

He did not leave that black book there.

Wary, a thousand anxieties running through his brain, Keith approaches his nightstand bayard-first, sword extended and sharp. He pauses before he comes in contact, taking time to analyse it, attempt to puzzle out any kind of traps or discrepancies before they jump out at him. He can’t see any — the book is on the newer side, with a roughened black hardcover, gold detailing on the spine but no title or author. The paper looks thick and it’s strangely uncut, raggedy.

Hesitantly, Keith pokes it.

Nothing happens.

Less suspicious, now, he prods at it with his hands, and when that does nothing, he picks it up. It’s heavier than he expected. He cracks open the cover to reveal a red paper lining. Stuck to the inside of the cover is a baby blue post-it note, crookedly place, with only a neatly drawn heart in glitter gel pen. Keith can’t help the smile, even as his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“What even…”

Pinching the first page from the bottom corner so as to not accidentally rip any paper, he slowly turns it over.

He gasps, fumbling with the book as he nearly drops it.

“How did it…”

He recognises the first page — it’s his. Or he made it, anyway. Scrawled in every white space of the nearly parchment-esque alien paper is his own doodling, from a boring meeting several weeks back. He recognises the slightly mean drawing of the Capnir leader and his snooty expression in the left corner, and the ninety games of tic-tac-toe he played with Lance on the bottom half of the page (Lance insisted he won because he is a nasty cheater. Keith didn’t even know it was possible to cheat at tic-tac-toe, but it is. It’s crazy).

Gobsmacked, Keith begins to flip through the rest of the pages, eyes getting wider and nose getting closer to the book with every corner he turns. These are his doodles and drawings — hundreds of them, loose papers from meetings and scrawled diagrams from mission plans and notes to other paladins and dorky little drawings he made for his friends or because of his own boredom. There are grocery lists covered in drawings of engine parts and knives and strange alien vegetables, hand-to-hand manoeuvre diagrams, several drawings of Shiro as Captain America, of Pidge and Hunk covered in soot except for the line around their eyes from their goggles, of Allura with the mice in her hair, Coran in the wackiest outfit he’s ever seen, Shiro with his eye twitching from Slav, Matt making goo eyes at Allura. Some of Kolivan, even, with over-exaggerated eyebrows and a frown that touches his neck.

And dozens, maybe even hundreds, of drawings of Lance. Smirking at Keith from across the kitchen table before he instigates a Pidge-Hunk argument, crowing in victory after making a shot, serious and focused mid battle, face drooping and sad and fixed on a glowing blue Earth projection with his chin hooked over his knees. Drawings that itched at Keith’s fingers every hour of every day, that he barely tried to resist; snapshots of Lance that plagued his mind ‘til he finally found time to grab a pencil.

Drawings that he had, apparently, left scattered all over the castle without thinking.

He cradles his flaming face in his free hand, heart pounding in his ears. He’s sure — he knows he threw half of these out. Some of them he left lying around, sure, and others he left out deliberately for his friends to find, but — Keith knows he threw out the full-page and coloured portrait of Lance, bright and beautiful in a dozen shades of earth, smiling softly at Keith in the low-light of the common room well after midnight. He can see the creases and smudges from where he’d crumpled it, embarrassed, and where someone had fished it out of the trash and carefully straightened it back out, brushing dust out of the crevices.

“Oh my God.”

Hunk would never have been able to keep the secret with how long it would have taken to bind this book — by hand, by the looks of it. Allura couldn’t either. Both Pidge and Shiro would have been gleeful in mocking Keith about the clear affection in every pencil stroke. Coran would have probably stuck it proudly on the fridge — he did that, once, Keith remembers, with a sketch he’d done of the whole team during a movie night. It’s still there; it’s been so long that Keith doesn’t notice it anymore.

There’s only one person who would pick up the discarded slips of paper and slide them in his pocket — only one person who’s that kind of sentimental. One person who prints every photograph he takes of every planet they’ve ever been on, who pins up every drawing gifted to him by young children no matter how objectively horrible, who tears off notes written in the margins of battle plans and keeps them in a jar on his dresser. Only one person who has a scrapbook with a dried blade of grass from Arus and piece of sea glass from the mermaid planet and a napkin stained with food goo from their food fight all those years ago. Hell, there’s only one person on this castle with enough skill with a needle and thread to bind a whole ass book.

Keith drops his bayard to the floor with a clatter, book clenched in his fist, and sprints out of his room. He flies down the hallway, ignoring the startled shout from Pidge as she jumps out of his way and the wide-eyed stare from Allura. He almost runs straight into his brother, spinning to the right at the last minute and rushing past him without bothering to entertain his questions. He runs all the way to the MedBay, where he knows Lance is taking inventory for Coran, and nearly crashes right into the pods because he’s too pumped up to slow down properly.

“Whoa there, cowboy, cool it before you give yourself a concussion. Christ.”

Lance places a cool hand on his shoulder, concerned, bin of counted bandages left abandoned behind him. Almost immediately his face coils in disgust.

“Aw, gross, you’re sweaty.”

But he doesn’t move his hand.

Keith stares.

How did he — how did he miss it, before?

“Keith?” Lance asks again, alarm clouding his face. “You okay, buddy?”

His fingers curve absentmindedly along the junction of Keith’s neck, and he leans in closer, and he smells so fucking good and he always does and Keith is lightheaded from more than just his cross-castle sprint.

“You’re in love with me,” he blurts, and he didn’t mean to say it like that but there’s no doubt in his words.

Lance startles, yanking his hand back in shock. Keith darts out to stop it, fingers wrapped around his wrist, keeping him from going far. Lance’s breath hitches.

“…What?”

“You’re in love with me,” Keith repeats, steadier this time. He waits a moment, then says, much more urgently: “The book.”

Mortification rings off Lance in waves.

“Oh,” he croaks. His pulse is so loud and so fast that Keith can feel it in his wrist. “I didn’t think it was — oh.”

There’s a strange quality to his voice, besides the embarrassment of getting caught, and then it clicks — he’s afraid. Of rejection, of disgust, of Keith. Keith isn’t sure. But he hates that it’s there.

Faster than he can talk himself out of, he cups Lance’s face with his free hand, relishing in the sharp intake of breath, and leans in and kisses him. There’s a moment of rigid shock on Lance’s part and it could spell trouble but Keith holds steady. He keeps his hold loose and the pressure soft and soon Lance — melts, into him, there’s no other word for it; he sinks in close and sighs and the hand Keith has gripped goes slack. His lips are soft, and his hair tickles Keith’s forehead, and Keith can still feel his jackrabbit heartbeat, and he still smells like that intoxicating mix of flowers and — sunshine, somehow, straight from the brightest days in Earth. Keith’s hands have never been steadier.

“You collected my doodles,” he says, staying close when Lance pulls gently away. He can see the deeper browns in Lance’s irises, the places where the gold gives way to near-black. They look like the flecks of the precious metal Keith would see at the bottom of the river mud in the mountains of Arizona.

“They were worth keeping,” Lance says quietly. He holds Keith’s gaze. The tips of his fingers trace Keith’s temples; they’re rough with old guitar callouses.

“You think everything is worth keeping.”

“Only the things that — bleed.”

Keith thinks that they’re both right. Lance can’t leave anything behind because he aches for the soul he finds in it. He finds the worth in everything. He found the worth in Keith.

He found enough to make Keith stay.

Keith grips the book in his right hand, left still cupped around Lance’s cheek. The difference in textures is startling, grounding.

“No one has ever done something like that for me before,” Keith admits. There’s a lump in his throat but Keith thinks it’s manageable, thinks he can talk through it. Thinks he might hold the strength for it.

Lance waits patiently.

“I want to —” Keith stops. He opens the book. The drawn Lance smiles up at him, beautiful. He looks up and Lance smiles over at him, breathtaking. “I —”

He doesn’t know how to say it. It’s there, bubbling in his chest, spilling out of him; obvious. But he doesn’t know the words for it. He’s not sure anyone’s taught him before.

“Okay,” Lance says. He tugs his wrist out of Keith’s grip then laces their hands together, squeezing. His smile only widens and he — sparkles, almost. Keith’s throat goes dry.

“Okay?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Lance repeats, teasing. He leans in again. “I’m going to kiss you again, now.”

“Please,” Keith begs, and he does.

———

based on this post

[iloveboysinred]

Miracle [Keith Kogane]

18+ angst|Keith Kogane x reader

synopsis; During a battle with the Galra you and Keith are cornered, you give up your life to save Keith, and leave him a gift to remember you by.

cw; fem reader, angst, character death, sad Keith, mentions of blood, violence, strangulation, stabbing, heavy grief, survivors guilt.

this will probably be the last angst request I'll write given that I'm not the best at it and i hate putting out work I'm not proud of ;/. Hope you enjoy anon!

masterlist - ask

Adrenaline pulsed through your veins as you ran down the dark halls of a Galra ship. It was an endless labyrinth of walls and turns, the darkness suffocating. You'd swear you were running in circles; every time you thought you'd found another way, you were just met with another band of sentries, shooting at you, chasing you, hunting you down. You tried to keep up with Keith, his hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, but your legs were starting to get tired, and your mind was foggy and confused. You didn't know how much longer you could endure. "Lance? Pidge? C'mon guys, where are you?" you heard Keith shout, trying to reconnect his damaged helmet to the others, but to no avail.

Your mind flashed back to Earth for a second. To when you and Keith were garrison trainees. You were close, seeing through his cold exterior and becoming friends quite quickly. From then on, you have always been there for each other. Supporting each other in training and comforting each other through the good and the bad. So of course, when he had come to you for support after he caught wind of Shiro's re-appearance, you had gone with him. Never expecting to be where you are now, fighting a galactic war and constantly putting your lives at risk.

"Fuck!" Your heart dropped to your stomach when you stopped, staring up at the wall in front of you. It was a dead end. You glanced behind you; they were gaining. Keith pulled you behind him, activating his bayard. You stared in fear when the sentries parted, a large Galra soldier advancing towards you. "It appears the universe has granted me a gift," he sneered, stopping a few feet away from you and Keith. His ugly yellow teeth peeked out from under his lip in a menacing snarl, his glowing yellow eyes pinning you with unsettling malice. You felt Keith tense, his grip on your wrist falling, raising his bayard defensively. "Lord Zarkon will be pleased when I bring him the heads of the red lion's paladin and his co-pilot." He got into his own defensive stance. He was big, standing about 5 feet above you; his body was strong and muscular. His teeth shone in the dim lighting, sharp as blades. "This will be fun. I think I'll take you first, Paladin. Your death will be just the beginning of the end for Voltron. How will your pathetic band of earthlings form Voltron if they're one paladin short? It'll make it all the easier to take you out one by one." You narrowed your eyes, reaching into the band of your boot and gripping the concealed dagger you'd made sure to bring, just in case the situation got dire.

"Cmoooon Keith. Let me drive!" You whined, leaning over Keith's back, trying to reach for the controls of his cruiser. "No way, y/n. Knowing you, you'll drive us into a cliff. "Oh,  come on! You doubt my skills that much??" Keith gave you a blank look, shrugging you off. You grumbled, sitting down and wrapping your arms around his waist. He smirked, revving the engine and taking off. You flew through the desert, sand spraying in your wake. The air whipped your hair at the speed you were going exhilarating. You grinned, blood roaring in your ears. "Oh shit!" you cheered every time Keith dodged an obstacle. You gripped his waist tightly, pressing your chest against his back. 

"Keith? Keith!" You heard Lance's voice ring through his helmet, the connection glitching. "Lance! Where are you guys!? We're kind of in a situation here. The Galra have me and you cornered." "Don't worry, we know where you are. We're coming to get you in just a tick." The connection cut off once more, the radio chatter blocking out anything else being said. The Galra soldier ran towards you, swinging a large blade right towards you and Keith.

"Y/n.. I have something important to tell you." You and Keith sat in front of his house; the night sky was clear, and the moon was shining down on you. "yeah?" You looked up at him from your bowl of noodles, your cheeks full to the brim. Keith's eyes softened in adoration. "Well, I've been picking up a lot of chatter on my radar. A space vessel is approaching Earth, and I think it might be Shiro." Your eyes widened, and you swallowed your mouth full, leaning toward him intently. "Really? that's great! But... what do you think you should do?"" "Well, I was hoping we'd find the landing sight and go see for ourselves." Keith blushed at your close proximity, looking away from you, bashful of your eagerness. "Oh my gosh, we totally should! When do you think it'll land?" "My guess is that in two days, will you come with me?" You gaped at him in disbelief. "Of course I will! Are you kidding?" Keith smiled at you. You leaned forward, pressing a warm kiss on his cheek. "We're in this together, okay?" "Okay."

You flinched as Keith's body hit the floor, quickly blocking the Galra's attack with his bayard. He had him pinned to the ground, his face a few meters away from his. "I have to admit, you do put on a good fight. I wouldn't expect anything less from a Paladin of Voltron," he snarled, bearing his teeth in a sneer. His tail slapped the bayard from Keith's hands, the weapon clattering as it hit the ground a few feet away. The sentries aimed their weapons at you, stopping you as you tried to run towards them. You stood there, helpless, as you watched Keith struggle. Then, the ground shook as the wall behind you suddenly rumbled, the blue lion appearing from a newly made gap. "Cmon guys, we don't have much time. Galra fighter jets are coming quick!" Your eyes locked on Keith, and your heart raced as the blade inched closer and closer to his throat. Grabbing the dagger, you ran at the soldier, narrowly dodging a sentry blade. Using as much weight as you could to knock him off Keith, trying to give him time to escape. You slashed as much as you could, drawing blood from any skin you reached. "y/n!" Keith shouted, running to try and come to your aid, but a sentry slashed at him, causing him to fall back, holding his side where he had been hit. "K-Keith! Go! Get out of here!" you screamed, trying to hold the Galra soldier down as best you could. "No! Not without you!" he grunted, trying to stand up. You felt your body hit the ground as the soldier flipped you off of him. The air escaping your lungs from the impact. You couldn't catch your breath; the soldier was holding you down by the neck. All you could hear between Keith's shouts and the footsteps of more sentries crowding you was the fast beating of your heart. "KEITH! WE HAVE TO GO!" Lance's voice rang in your ears, but you couldn't move; your neck was starting to ache. You kicked and scratched at the galra, but the lack of oxygen was starting to weaken you. Mustering as much strength as possible, you clumsily gripped the dagger, driving it into the soldier's side, but it did little to penetrate the armor covering his body. "Even if I can't bring him the corpse of your little boyfriend, Lord Zarkon would be just as pleased knowing it's one paladin down. Ever closer to wiping out all of Voltron," the soldier purred, putting more weight down on your neck.

"You know I love you," you murmured, pressing your lips to his in a sweet kiss. Keith turned his head, pressing his lips harder, holding you close to him. You threaded your fingers through his hair, smiling as you pulled away. "I love you more," he whispered, gazing into your eyes with so much emotion that it made your heart flutter. "Pfft, big softy." He glared at you, pulling you to his chest and laying back on his bed with you.

"y/n! We can't leave her, Lance! we can't-" "Keith. We don't have time. You'll bleed out; we have to go!" You felt your vision begin to blur, and the grip on your neck felt heavier. You glanced over the Galra soldier, watching as Lance hauled Keith into the blue lion's mouth, shooting at any sentry he could. "Lance, let me go! Let me fucking go!" Keith shouted, struggling against his hold. But he was weakening; the blood streaming out of his wound was making him dizzy, and his movements were uncertain. As his vision became more and more unclear, his panic increased. Where were you? what's happening? The last glimpse he got of you was your unmoving body and the sentries crowding around you. His eyes teared as he struggled against Lance weakly, his fists clenching when Lance pulled him into a hug, constricting his arms. His vision blurred both from his tears and the blood loss. Sobs racked his body as the blue lion's mouth closed, flying out and away from the ship.

You glanced blankly at the ceiling, refusing to look the soldier in the eye as your life slowly faded. "I love you, Keith; don't worry, I'll see you again," you thought, your body going still when your breathing ceased, your heart's beating coming to a stop.

Keith might as well have been dead himself. At least that's how he felt. His heart was hollow, his mind swirling with thoughts of you and how you had passed—to save him. He couldn't even hurt anymore; he didn't feel anything most of the time. Most days where he was stuck in his head about you, he would feel pure, unbridled rage, lashing out in training sequences, pushing himself harder than he ever did before. On nights where he suffered your absence the most, he felt cold grief grip his heart so strongly that he struggled to breathe, becoming inconsolable. Tears fell heavily from his eyes when he cried. He would scream, gripping his chest through his shirt. Shiro would rush in, enveloping Keith in his arms, and he would thrash around in his hold, slightly settling down when he started to tire. Shiro comforted him, assuring him it was going to be okay. Keith couldn't hear him, zoning out and staring blankly at the ceiling with glistening eyes. Going on missions felt like torture. His attacks were uncoordinated, and the team had to make up for his lack of focus. The arguments that ensued between him and Lance almost broke into full-blown fights, Keith's heart only building more and more resentment for everyone in the castle.

Months later, here he stood, watching as Allura pressed a final kiss to Lance's lips, tears falling from their eyes, trying to savor whatever they could before they ran out of time. "Keith, look," Shiro whispered, placing his hand on Keith's shoulder. He paused for a second, the bitterness of the situation making it hard to care about what Shiro was saying. But he glanced up anyway, tears rising along his waterline. The Paladins of old—Allura's father and Zarkon's family—stand right in front of them. He felt his heart squeeze as you appeared from behind the crowd, smiling sweetly at him. You looked so beautiful. A sight for sore eyes to Keith. He ran towards you, his eyes shining with so much love and so much pain. You welcomed him into your embrace. Holding him close as he hugged you, burying his nose in your hair. You quickly pulled him into a kiss, savoring the feel of his lips one last time. "I miss you so much, Keith," you whispered, cupping his face in your hands. Keith felt his heart stop, drinking in every feature of your face, knowing he wouldn't see it for a while. "I miss you every day of my life. I love you, Y/N. So much," you smiled, pulling away from him and keeping his arms in your hold. "I love you more." "I wish you could come back to me. I should've been there with you. I'm so sorry." you shushed him. "We'll be together again. Hopefully not any time soon though!" Keith chuckled, the weight of his grief making his voice shaky. "But I've got to go, Keith. I have a gift for you. Please, heal, and forgive. I'll always have you in my heart." Keith's chest ached as you pulled away from him, taking your warmth and scent with you. "I love you." You smiled at him sweetly, Allura following you. Slowly,  you disappeared again, dissipating into the air and leaving everyone feeling bittersweet.

Keith was taken aback when he felt something shift in his arms, looking down to see a moving bundle of cloth. He heard muffled babbling, making him hurriedly unravel the bundle in shock. A pretty baby girl stared up at him; somehow she looked like you, having his dark hair and nose but your eyes, lips, and eyebrows. He gaped down at the baby, holding it close to his chest. "What ?? Where did that baby come from??" Pidge asked, coming up to peer down at the child. "Y/N left her; she's the gift." Keith whispered, his eyes crinkling in a bright smile, pressing a kiss to the baby's forehead. "She's mine. The baby's mine," he whispered, rocking the baby in his arms. The little girl glanced up at him with wide eyes, soft babbling and cooing coming from her as she happily laid in her father's arms. "How is that even possible?" Hunk whispered, glancing down at the baby, adoration in his heart. "It's a miracle." Lance whispered, standing next to Keith. Keith glanced at him for a second, mixed emotions coursing through him. He felt resentment and hatred for the man. Grief still swelling in his chest, but your words echoed in his mind: "Heal, forgive," and he gave Lance a ghost of a smile. "Yeah, she is."

The story of both you and Allura's sacrifices became sensational, with old allies of Voltron helping construct statues of you and the Altean princess standing side by side. Every once a year, the team would unite and visit the statue, sharing updates on each other's lives and recounting old missions. At every meeting, Keith would bring his daughter, making sure she was present for every story the team would share about you. "Y/N and Allura should be here. But it's because of them that we can all continue to keep peace in the universe. I can't imagine anyone braver than them." Coran sighed, glancing up at the statues with bittersweet love in his gaze. Everyone solemnly agreed, toasting to both you and Allura's legacy. Keith glanced down at his daughter, snuggled up next to him in her own chair, staring up at the statues with shining eyes and wonder. He smiled, knowing that as long as he had his miracle, he had something to live for, and some piece of you was still with him here on earth.

[torveiglyart]

Okay so remember my Voltron Lion Takeover post? Yeah, I lied. I brought my ipad with me and since we only had one parks day, I had a LOT of time to just chill in the hotel room, meaning drawing time. So I ended up drawing the burn marks anyways. I imagine the whole fiasco going something like this:

Lance woke up to the blue walls of the pod, blurry vision, and an ache throughout his body. He collapsed forward into Hunk’s waiting arms, knees weak. There were cries of surprise, concern, and reprimand around him, but Lance heard none of it, instead focused on the arms supporting him and the itchy feeling that was starting to spread up his arms and legs. Once he had cleared his head and vision, he gave Hunk a pointed look, hoping his best friend would get the message and shut everyone up.

“Um, guys, I think Lance would like some food and quiet before we bombard him with questions.”

The commotion died at Hunk’s announcement. Carefully, Hunk and Allura led Lance to the dining hall, setting a bowl of food goo at his place. Lance ate in silence while Hunk and Allura chatted quietly next to him, catching him up to speed on what had happened while he was in the pod. The itching had since gone away by the time Lance had finished his food. Lance was about to go change into his regular clothes from the pod suit when Allura called to him.

“Lance, before you go change, there is something you should be aware of.”

Lance paused and turned back around to Allura with a questioning look, waiting for her to continue.

“Whatever happened back there, it left some… permanent scarring. I know not how they came to be but Pidge, Coran, and I are looking into it.”

With a hesitant nod and a frown, Lance went to his room. Peeling off the pod suit, he gasped at the patterns now etched into his skin. Geometric veins and circled ends filled his arms, legs, and torso, reaching all the way to his neck and ending at his nape hairline. They were everywhere. And permanent.

Tracing the lines with his hand, Lance could feel himself tearing up. It was one thing to be mentally changed from a war away from home, but to have such a large reminder burned onto his skin? To be altered in such a big way? It stung more than any homesickness ever would. At least he hadn’t lost a limb like Shiro had. Lance doesn’t think he’d be able to handle losing an arm or leg, losing a piece of himself like that. Looking into his bathroom mirror, he breathed out in relief at finding no marks on his face. That would have been a real heartbreaker.

With a heavy sigh, Lance shrugged on his usual attire and headed back to the bridge for a full rundown of what happened, and to maybe share his side of the mission report. The others were already there awaiting his arrival. Upon seeing Lance, Pidge hopped up and ran over, tackling him in a hug then slapping his shoulder.

“You idiot! What the quiznak were you thinking? Taking on a Galra commander alone? With your broadsword? Were you trying to die?”

Lance put his hands on her shoulders, looking her in the eye. “I wasn’t trying to die, Pidge. I was trying to protect Allura. She was down and I was stuck with close-range fighting. I’m sorry I scared you all, but I won’t apologize for what I did. Which, by the way, what exactly happened? One minute I’m fighting the dual sworded guy, the next I’m waking up in a pod. And what’s up with the scars?”

There was a silence amongst the group before Allura spoke up.

“While I was down for a while, I was awake when you brought me back to the castle in Red. You… you did not look entirely yourself. You had this red and blue cast to your hair, with solid yellow eyes and fangs. It was strange. And your armor, well, you can see for yourself.”

Pidge butted in at Allura’s pause. “When I found the surveillance video, per Coran’s request, your armor was solid black with star-like dots in the coloured sections. And you were fighting strangely. Like, been a solider for 20 plus years strange. And your bayard…”

There were nervous glances passed between the crew, all avoiding Lance’s gaze. It was irritating.

“And what about my bayard?”

There was an awkward pause before Shiro broke it.

“You were switching bayard forms with a fluency none of us have ever seen, as well as using forms you’ve never had, including our forms.”

Oh, so it was way more than just some weird scarring. Lance had done the impossible, and woke up with no memory of it. Not to mention the eye thing sounded like possession. The security feed must have freaked them out quite a bit. Lance could only hope Lotor was kept out of this.

"Does Lotor know?"

Allura spoke immediately. "No. We decided to keep him out of the know for this. While we trust him not to do anything currently with the information, we do not trust that he may use it if he betrays us."

That put Lance at a little more ease. At least prince L'oréal didn't know of his sudden mastery of being a paladin. But there were still questions to be answered.

"What forms did my bayard take?"

Hunk decided to answer this time.

"You had your regular blaster, your sniper rifle, broadsword, our bayard forms like Pidge's katar and Allura's whip, and completely new forms. Dual pistols, dual smaller swords, a lance, and a shield. It was really weird, but impressive."

That was far too many bayard forms for Lance. He was the weak link, a seventh wheel, not a proficient fighter like Zarkon, who could use multiple bayard forms. So why had he? He would have to look at the footage later, as he still needed to know about the scars.

"And the burns? Any working theory on those?"

Shiro looked alarmed at Lance's words, opening his mouth to say something before Allura cut in.

"Pidge claims they are like lichtenberg scars, but their shape and flow remind me of quintessence veins, both of which should be impossible given the footage we have. You were not struck by electricity again, and you would have to have been overflowed with quintessence for those veins to appear. It is quite a concerning conundrum."

With a gasp of surprise, Pidge turned to Allura.

"What do you mean /struck by electricity again/?!"

Shiro nodded at Pidge's question. Coran looked horrified. Hunk kept looking between Allura and Lance for an explanation. Lance decided this wasn't needed right now.

"I was hit at the Omega Shield and Allura healed me. All good now. Can I see the footage? I want to see what happened for myself."

So

I went wayyyy further with that than intended and wow I really hate how nonchalant everyone was with Lance's death but ANYWAYS here you guys go. What happens when you get possessed by a lion of Voltron? You get an overdose of quintessence and trauma. Hooray!

[alluraaaa]

question for all voltron likers because i’m curious

bonus question for the tags: what would ur bayard be

[cynthia39100]

Merlin rewatch -- S1E4: The Poisoned Chalice

Cute Arthur moments

Arthur’s slow-mode clapping in the opening was hilarious lol

Arthur’s mischievous smile when he went to fetch the “ official ceremonial robes for servant". Poor Merlin. He was so excited. I think it showed their friendship progression? They could be pranking each other now. Well, it’s still a bit one-sided but I’m sure Arthur wouldn’t begrudge Merlin if he did.

Arthur tried to drink but couldn’t because Bayard and Uther had a lot to say lol Such a child.

I love Arthur’s sweaty hair ~~ He looked beautiful in the whole episode, but especially good with the messy hair and the eyes that were made bluer by the lighting in the cell 💕.

He looked so CUTE after he set the flower on the plate and Gwen smiled at him ~~~ He looked like a child, sitting on the floor, dodging eye contact, embarrassed of his awkward acting. Aww Arthur, we knew you were a good man~ 🥰

I also like the way he looked up to make sure Gwen got the flower out. He looked authoritative even in the cell. (Also he looked super hot behind the bars, in that slutty red shirt with his chin tilted up ❤️)

<- Prev Next -> [other episodes]

[soulreapin]

spacex t-shirt

the not long awaited wip folks!!!

summary: Keith sees something white and soft-looking hiding underneath a towel, and as soon as he grabs at it, the lights flicker once and then shut off entirely, plunging him back into darkness. “Random Galra commander, you are on my shitlist,” Keith declares under his breath, pulling the shirt out of the pile and yanking it over his head.

His hair gets caught in the collar and he pulls at it until it curls around his neck again, and Keith haphazardly throws it up into a ponytail with the hair tie he found next to his bayard and knife. He forgoes boots entirely, on account of he swore he’d left a spare pair in Red, and even if he didn’t, his paladin armor had boots so he was really just saving himself time suiting up.

or, the canonverse fic where keith and lance’s laundry gets (purposefully) mixed up

please please reblog this if you had a good time, tumblr runs on reblogs and so do i

[emo-ostrich]

1: why doesn’t anyone talk about how heartbreaking this scene is

2: why doesn’t anyone talk about this episode?!?!

it’s actually very well written and serves as a set up for the much darker twist the show is taking

in this episode we learn:

-pidge would sacrifice a good amount of the universe to save her father. they’re the most logical and analytical on the team, yet all that goes out the window when her family gets involved. there’s an argument in the beginning of the episode that is very reminiscent of when pidge was going to leave voltron in season 1 and keith yells at them.

-honerva remembers that lotor is her son. this is a HUGE set up for season 8. she begins the phase 4 of the kuron project which leads to keith returning and becoming the black paladin. but she does all of this because she knows zarkon will kill lotor. she’s ok with lotor killing zarkon bc zarkon is merely a husk of the man he used to be. that realization definitely leads her down the path of “how can i restore my family” (cut to end of season 8).

-on the topic of project kuron, we see the effects of it with shiro lashing out and not being… very shiro like… but he gives lotor HIS BAYARD in the hostage exchange without telling the rest of the team. honerva calls for the beginning of phase 4, and we can see that phase 3 was the shiro that been with the team since he returned in season 3. he’s been living this jekyll and hyde type life with half kuron controlled by honerva and half real shiro.

-we see lance step up and give orders to the team. lance is the red paladin at this point in the series making him the right hand of voltron and this is one of the first times we see him step into that leadership position. watching him grow into that leadership position and learn to feel valued makes the end of season 8 hurt even worse. plus when shiro realizes they need backup he says “lance we could use a little help.” he already acknowledges lance as his right hand man even if lance doesn’t realize it yet. that’s the shiro part talking. lance gives an order and the team says “copy that” which is how lance normally responds to orders. it’s a very clear role reversal that i think is lovely in lance’s character arc (if only dreamworks actually finished his arc smh)

-lotor killing zarkon is proof he really did want peace. he wants nothing to do with his father, doesn’t want zarkon to be his father, and has no hesitation in killing him. lotor and voltron are fighting for the same thing, but simply have different methods. when they fight lotor, he seems hesitant to fire until allura says he’s like zarkon. that’s what throws him over the edge.

lotor becoming emperor of the galra after zarkon’s death shows that having a galra ally on the throne could be the key to peace (hello keith after season 8) so think about the set back in the war efforts when voltron kills the emperor, a former ally, and then disappears. maybe this is why the galra attacked earth? in the beginning on the series, they’re looking at a star map showing that the galra’s progress in conquering worlds is getting closer to reaching earth but hasn’t quite gotten there yet. so either and conquering has sped up and an insane rate, or earth was specifically targeted by the galra while voltron was gone.

-when zarkon is about to kill lotor, the team saves him. the first lion we see fire is allura implying that j was allura that saved lotor a life. that’s kinda big in her development or maybe she was just firing at zarkon who knows

ok sorry that’s all thanks for coming to my ted talk :)

(this is all about season 5 episode 2: blood duel)

[thebrickinbrick]

Foot to Foot, Part Two

Enjolras, not seeing Marius among those who had taken refuge in the wine-shop, had the same idea. But they had reached a moment when each man has not the time to meditate on his own death. Enjolras fixed the bar across the door, and bolted it, and double-locked it with key and chain, while those outside were battering furiously at it, the soldiers with the butts of their muskets, the sappers with their axes. The assailants were grouped about that door. The siege of the wine-shop was now beginning.

The soldiers, we will observe, were full of wrath.

The death of the artillery-sergeant had enraged them, and then, a still more melancholy circumstance. During the few hours which had preceded the attack, it had been reported among them that the insurgents were mutilating their prisoners, and that there was the headless body of a soldier in the wine-shop. This sort of fatal rumor is the usual accompaniment of civil wars, and it was a false report of this kind which, later on, produced the catastrophe of the Rue Transnonain.

When the door was barricaded, Enjolras said to the others:

“Let us sell our lives dearly.”

Then he approached the table on which lay Mabeuf and Gavroche. Beneath the black cloth two straight and rigid forms were visible, one large, the other small, and the two faces were vaguely outlined beneath the cold folds of the shroud. A hand projected from beneath the winding sheet and hung near the floor. It was that of the old man.

Enjolras bent down and kissed that venerable hand, just as he had kissed his brow on the preceding evening.

These were the only two kisses which he had bestowed in the course of his life.

Let us abridge the tale. The barricade had fought like a gate of Thebes; the wine-shop fought like a house of Saragossa. These resistances are dogged. No quarter. No flag of truce possible. Men are willing to die, provided their opponent will kill them.

When Suchet says:—“Capitulate,”—Palafox replies: “After the war with cannon, the war with knives.” Nothing was lacking in the capture by assault of the Hucheloup wine-shop; neither paving-stones raining from the windows and the roof on the besiegers and exasperating the soldiers by crushing them horribly, nor shots fired from the attic-windows and the cellar, nor the fury of attack, nor, finally, when the door yielded, the frenzied madness of extermination. The assailants, rushing into the wine-shop, their feet entangled in the panels of the door which had been beaten in and flung on the ground, found not a single combatant there. The spiral staircase, hewn asunder with the axe, lay in the middle of the tap-room, a few wounded men were just breathing their last,

every one who was not killed was on the first floor, and from there, through the hole in the ceiling, which had formed the entrance of the stairs, a terrific fire burst forth. It was the last of their cartridges.

When they were exhausted, when these formidable men on the point of death had no longer either powder or ball, each grasped in his hands two of the bottles which Enjolras had reserved, and of which we have spoken, and held the scaling party in check with these frightfully fragile clubs. They were bottles of aquafortis.

We relate these gloomy incidents of carnage as they occurred. The besieged man, alas! converts everything into a weapon. Greek fire did not disgrace Archimedes, boiling pitch did not disgrace Bayard. All war is a thing of terror, and there is no choice in it. The musketry of the besiegers, though confined and embarrassed by being directed from below upwards, was deadly. The rim of the hole in the ceiling was speedily surrounded by heads of the slain, whence dripped long, red and smoking streams, the uproar was indescribable; a close and burning smoke almost produced night over this combat. Words are lacking to express horror when it has reached this pitch. There were no longer men in this conflict, which was now infernal. They were no longer giants matched with colossi. It resembled Milton and Dante rather than Homer. Demons attacked, spectres resisted.

It was heroism become monstrous.