#see i extrapolated onto lance

[notfivefives]

Clonetober 2021, Day 3 & Whumptober 2021, No. 16

Prompts: 

Day 3- Inhibitor Chip Removal for @clonetober

No. 16- On a Need to Know Basis: Recovery | Scars | Aftermath for             @whumptober2021

Title: Stable

Content Warnings: None 

Word Count: 2,209

Characters: Gregor & Wolffe

Summary: Gregor has misgivings about looking after Wolffe after the Commander’s inhibitor chip is removed. 

Read here, or on AO3

The excision of Wolffe’s chip had been conditional on Rex’s agreement to leave with the medic - a Twi’Lek woman whose clientele base was mostly comprised of outlaws and anyone else who required discreet clinical services - on a job. It was non-negotiable, and though Gregor had vehemently made the argument that it would be better for Wolffe to wake up to a familiar face, Rex had sighed and given Gregor a small, resigned smile and told Gregor that his face was familiar.

Gregor had laughed even as he’d shot Rex a dirty look that said, You know what I meant.

And Rex had nodded. Because he did know. But that didn’t change their circumstances.

The medic, with a twitch of her violet lekku, had assured Gregor that her 2-1B medical droid - she’d won it from Cid - would be more than sufficient to help care for Wollfe.

And then they’d left them in the little place on the outskirts of Ord Mantell that was part dwelling, part infirmary.

Gregor’s teeth worried at his lower lip as he sat, watching the smooth rise and fall of Wolffe’s chest. It hadn’t been so long ago that Gregor had been on that same cot, an identical incision on his head.

“How is he?”

The med droid’s head swivelled to where Gregor sat in a threadbare chair. Its eyes, or the two sets of three yellow lights that represented each of them, regarded him.

“The patient is stable.”

Gregor couldn’t decide if its voice was condescending, or merely dispassionate, but its words were as succinct as they were unhelpful and Gregor felt annoyance and frustration welling within him. A more nuanced answer would require a more specific question and Gregor wasn’t sure how to ask.

How will he be? He wanted to say. But he knew the question would make even less sense to the droid than it did to him. Droids couldn’t see the future, they could only extrapolate based on data, and the data said “stable.”

Gregor let out a vexed huff, crossed his arms and slouched in his chair. To the credit of his seat, it was at least comfortable. That didn’t mean he didn’t resent sitting in it. Pacing the confines of the medic’s home and workspace, and leaning against a wall were, however, slightly less attractive options.

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs. His fingertips grazed the still-pink scar tissue on his right temple.

His own waking after his chip had been removed hadn’t been so slow. But his procedure had fallen under the “just in case” category. It had also been entirely voluntary. Who knew what complications could arise with Wolffe.

Going by the reports Rex and Gregor had read on Wolffe while they searched for him, Wolffe had, like his namesake, hunted and killed with the ruthless efficiency of a persistence predator. Did that begin with the flick of the Order 66 switch, and would it continue despite his chip’s removal?

“My readings indicate that the patient will soon return to consciousness.”

Gregor straightened.

Wolffe’s breathing wasn’t as deep as it had been, and Gregor could see a crease in his brow, and the beginnings of a frown on his lips. Wolffe’s eyes slid open and Gregor remained still.  From where he was sitting, Gregor could only see the pale, cybernetic one, but when Wolffe’s head turned in his direction he could see his mismatched gaze evolve from dull to questioning, and then to hostile.

Unsurprising, considering his last memory was likely of being taken down with stun rounds.

Wolffe’s frown became a sneer as he studied Gregor and Gregor rose, though he was unsure if it was to offer comfort or to take a defensive stance.

Wolffe rolled onto his side and Gregor lifted a hand to caution him against any sudden movements.

Too late.

The muscles in Wolffe’s face bunched and he closed his eyes. He reached a hand up to his temple and sucked in air through his teeth when he found the bandage-covered incision there.

“Wolffe…” Gregor said as he took several steps toward him. He stopped in his tracks when Wolffe’s eyes flashed open. There was hurt beneath the anger and mistrust. “I’m Gregor. You’re safe here.”

“What in hells did you do to me?” Wolffe rasped out the words, but they weren’t lacking in venom. The scar on the right side of his face added to the ferocity of his appearance, and even stripped of his armor and weapons, Wolffe looked battle-ready.

“Rex and I found you, and-”

“Found me?” Wolffe spat as he lifted himself and moved his legs over the side of the cot. Gregor could see Wolffe’s eyes go a little unfocused with the movement, but after he blinked again and moved his head from side to side, Wolffe rose on unsteady legs. “That’s a funny way of saying-”

“Please be calm,” the 2-1B unit said as it took several mechanical steps closer to Wolffe.

Wolffe divided his attention and his ire between the droid and Gregor.

“Does that ever help?” Gregor asked the droid, without taking his eyes off of Wolffe, who took a step toward the door.

“My master has programmed me to be proactive where potentially combative patients are concerned. If he does not regain his composure, I will be forced to administer medication to achieve that end.”

“Try it,” Wolffe said. He turned toward the droid and squared his shoulders, but took a sensible step away from it when he caught sight of the needle at the end of the droid’s left appendage.

“Hey, whoah, stop!” Gregor said when it looked as though the droid was going to oblige Wolffe. Part of Gregor admired the medic’s forethought, considering her line of work, but the other, more significant part of him was actively cursing her. “I’ll get pretty combative, too, if you go near him. What do you think your chances are of taking down two Republic clones?”

All three of them were still. Gregor didn’t know how, but the droid seemed to actually be calculating an answer to his question. For his part, Gregor tried to estimate how much worse he’d just made the situation. He’d been in higher stakes impasses, to be sure, but this one seemed more delicate.

“Not optimal,” the droid admitted, at last, as it lowered its arms.

“That’s what I thought,” Gregor said as he let out a breath and looked at Wolffe to see if he’d garnered any favor.

Or that he hadn’t provoked an attack.

Wolffe eyed him. The wariness and anger were there, but beneath them was an unmistakable weariness. It was the same tiredness Gregor saw in Rex every day. The same kind he knew he’d see if he looked in a mirror. He felt morbid laughter bubbling up when he thought that they were all reflections of one another and that he didn’t need the benefit of a mirror. He kept it at bay, though, and he and Wolffe stood in silence.

Wolffe rested the small of his back against the cot and swallowed. Gregor thought to offer him some water, but Wolffe spoke before he could.

“Rex is dead, and so is the Republic.”

“Well, the Republic is,” Gregor conceded with an upward tilt of the lip, “But Rex is alive.”

Wolffe shook his head again, but this time he broke eye contact. Gregor wasn’t sure what he’d expected from the Commander. Relief? Disbelief?

“Then he’s a traitor,” Wolffe said, his voice a hoarse, uncertain whisper. “And so are you. You’re in violation of...I should...I should…”

“The patient is distressed,” the med droid reported.

“He’s allowed to be,” Gregor snapped. He sounded more petulant than he would have cared to, but the droid fell silent again, so it was entirely worth it.

Wolffe’s shoulders slumped and he crossed his arms over his stomach as he took his weight off the bed again. Gregor took a half step forward and decided to gamble.

“Is that what you want?” he asked. He kept his tone as conversational as he could, as though it made no difference to him if he found himself in another cell, awaiting stars knew what fate. “To turn us in to the Empire?”

Wolffe was silent for a long while. He wrapped his arms tighter around his middle and bowed his head. His gaze was dark and distant. Gregor wondered what realizations were filtering in, what memories. Memories - or what Gregor thought were memories - came rattling back in his dreams, or resurfaced in flashes with scents  or sensations. For Wolffe’s sake, Gregor hoped the memories were kinder, but he doubted they were.

“I...I don’t…” Wolffe trailed off.

Gregor hadn’t expected Wolffe’s shoulders to start shaking, or his breath to start hitching.

But they did. Oh, they did.

“What did I do?” Wolffe asked. “What did I-”

His words broke off in a ragged sob.

“It’s okay,” Gregor offered.

Wolffe shook his head and screwed his eyes shut. A tear glinted down his cheek and Gregor hazarded another step closer, though he had no idea what exactly he was doing.

“The General,” Wolffe said, his voice thick. “When I read the report, all I could think was ‘Good. Good the traitor’s dead,’ and I was...I was…”

Wolffe’s knees buckled and he dropped. Hard.

Gregor nearly tried to catch him, nearly tried to break the fall that had probably been inevitable. But what could he do, really? He considered walking out and closing the door behind him. Not to assuage his own discomfort, or because he didn’t care, but because it seemed wrong to see Wolffe like this, suffocating on the emotions the chip had kept at bay. The chip he and Rex had had removed.

Something unpleasant lanced its way into Gregor’s gut. Could they have afforded to give Wolffe a choice?

No, Gregor thought as he shoved the guilt down. With the chip, Wolffe didn’t have a choice. Now he did.

The heels of Wolffe’s hands were on the floor and his nails were digging into it as though he could scrape some semblance of reason from the tatty carpet beneath him.

Gregor wished his practical knowledge of weapons and infiltration would do him and Wolffe any good. He wished he could spare Wolffe the pain. Most of all, Gregor wished Rex were there.

But Gregor did what he’d never been trained to do, what the Kaminoans hadn’t deemed necessary for their creations to learn.

He knelt down beside Wolffe and put a hand on one of his shoulders.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said. The words felt ridiculous coming from his mouth, but his conviction was genuine. “It is.”

“No,” Wolffe croaked.

“Ssh,” Gregor shushed, wondering if Wolffe even heard him. He rubbed Wolffe’s shoulder and down his back. The feel of the quaking muscle beneath his palm hurt Gregor’s heart. He couldn’t begin to imagine what was going through Wolffe’s head. Gregor felt a deep, heated hatred for the Empire and the Kaminoans begin to constrict his chest. He couldn’t recall feeling it so intensely before. But Kamino was gone now  and they were still here. Used, then cast aside. “Shshshsh.��

“Please listen, Wolffe,” Gregor said. “There was nothing you could have done. You couldn’t help it. There was a chip in your head, in all of our heads, but it’s gone now. We got it out.”

“Y-you don’t u-understand what I d-di-id.”

“Hey, hey,” Gregor said as he shifted so he was directly in front of Wolffe. He was grateful Wolffe remained pliant enough that he could draw him into a hug. “You couldn’t help it, Wolffe.”

“No,” Wolffe said again. “Nononono.”

Wolffe chanted that single, miserable note into Gregor’s shoulder until it devolved into a wild sound that pitched and cracked and went on and on until Gregor thought Wolffe’s lungs would give out.

“I know, Wolffe. I know. I’m so sorry,” Gregor said as he put a calloused, uncertain hand on the back of Wolffe’s head and hugged him closer.

Wolffe’s arms remained slack at his sides as he choked and wept, and Gregor held him.

The sobs wracking Wolffe’s body lessened in intensity.

Eventually.

Wolffe’s chest rested heavily against Gregor’s, and he could feel each hectic little sniffle and each groan that worked its way loose from Wolffe’s throat.

Gregor didn’t know if he was helping, or if Wolffe was simply exhausting himself. He rubbed warm, gentle circles between Wolffe’s shoulder blades. He didn’t know how long they sat like that, but he ignored the ache in his knees and the pins and needles in his feet.

Wolffe took in a slow, steady breath and tensed back ever so slightly. Gregor allowed him to list backwards, but he kept a steadying hand on his shoulder and the back of his neck. Wolffe still didn't look at Gregor, but Gregor could see how lost he looked, how hurt.

“Hey,” Gregor said. He was surprised how rough his own voice sounded. There was no response, but he leaned forward and touched his forehead to Wolffe’s. He couldn’t make any of this make sense, but he could try his best to anchor Wolffe. “I’ve got you, Wolffe. I’ve got you.”

. 

[storiesbeyondthestars]

I remember watching S4 & 5 and realizing ‘oh, Lance is going to end up having a huge part in Shiro’s arc’, though at the same time, as anyone who has read my story Ignite the Stars knows, I predicted the shit out of the Keith and Shiro fight (which, to this day, remains one of my favourite moments in Voltron). I always knew that a Keith and Shiro showdown was the only way for that to go, I just thought Lance would be involved somehow.

But he wasn’t. It was one of those little moments that had me stumped. A lot of people just got mad  and accused the creators of hating Lance, getting rid of his arc, being racist, all kinds of bull like that.

It got me thinking though. Why set up Lance being the one to notice something was wrong with Shiro? Yes, a few others noticed that he was a bit off, but not in the same way. 

It was one of those things, in retrospect, that Lance pieced together and realized ‘oh fuck it was staring me right in the face’. Some fans like to claim that Lance is the most observant one attuned to others feelings but…no, he’s really not. I can now confidently say that that wasn’t the point of the entire thing at all, because I think I know what it was, and I think we’re about to see this play out in S8. (Heads up, this gets super long.)

Lance isn’t the most observant of the Paladins. He’s not the most sensitive. He’s not the most intelligent. He can think of good plans, but he’s also an impulsive little shit too and isn’t the most patient.  Lance’s greatest strength is the fact that he’s adaptable. Lance, from episode one, has been shown to learn from his mistakes. We see this when he crashes a simulation but learns from it and adapts, and is able to better fly Blue later.

We saw this when he went from claiming he would never follow Keith’s lead to being the first one to vocally support him. We saw this when his gun turned into a sword and he rolled with it.

Lance learns and adapts like no one else, especially when he makes a mistake. And we know a part of him feels guilty about what happened with Shiro.

That’s so important with Lance, because he’s not going to make the same mistake again.

I want to talk about Keith for a second now.

I’ve been one of the ones with the on-going theories that something is going to go down with Keith, that Honerva wants to get her hands on him for some reason that likely has to do with his connection to quintessence (and the fact that he was soaked in an entire vat of it). It’s very likely that she’s going to try to corrupt him in some form.

As we know now, in moments of extreme emotional distress, Keith does seem to get access to more Galra characteristics. The sclera of his eyes turn yellow, his irises become slits, it looks like he gets fangs, and, from those two moments during his fight with Shiro, he seems to become stronger.

While fighting with Shiro, those two moments were there for a reason. Keith was thinking about his actions, he was entirely on the defensive, but Shiro pushed him once and he lashed out, and that’s when we saw the Galra eyes and Shiro saying “There’s the Keith I remember”. It’s not because of Keith’s eyes, it’s because that’s literally the Keith he remembers, the one who would run full-tilt into a fight rather than play defensive.

The second time, Keith’s life is in danger, and Shiro says that the others are dead and Keith once again acts on instinct.

That part of him that shows up isn’t necessarily ‘feral’ or bad by any means, but when Keith’s in whatever frame of mind he gets in to prompt the physical changes, he moves by pure instinct.

A lot of people who don’t like the theory that Keith’s going to be corrupted or something argue that it’s playing into the ‘Galra are animals’, ‘Galra are all bad’ and stuff like that, but no, in this case, it’s not. Galra have never one been shown to react the same way Keith did. Not once. Galra have never once been shown to be able to shift their forms without quintessence. And that’s why I bring it up in this at all.

And Haggar/Honerva never showed any interest in Keith prior to this, where she would have been watching from Kuron’s eyes. We know this, because she wants Kuron to kill him. Keith’s eyes changing is the only thing that really would have caught her interest. She saw something there, something that made Keith stand out, and I doubt it was just the fact that he defeated Shiro.

I think that Honerva’s been targeting Keith ever since. The last thing she told her druids to do was to target the Blade of Marmora. Pidge assumes that the destruction came about because everyone in the Blade was exposed after Lotor fell, but what if that wasn’t the case? That was just Pidge’s assumption and we do face unreliable narrators all the time in this show. 

Honerva doesn’t know what happened to them, but she was watching through the clone’s eyes when Keith introduced his mother to Shiro and called her ‘a member of the Blade of Marmora’. Not hard to extrapolate that Keith was one too.

She’s a puppet master. She doesn’t need to do everything herself. So she sends her Druids after Keith – taking out the Blade of Marmora in the process, but keeping Kolivan alive to draw others in.

The fact that the druid doesn’t target Krolia immediately in The Ruins tells me something was up with that. She admitted to training a ton of Blades. She’s a high ranking member. She should have been target #1. But she wasn’t. Keith was. Yes, Kosmo separated Keith from the others, and the druid threatened to kill him – but I don’t think that would have ended up being the case.

I think that a part of him maybe hoped to hold Keith (like Kolivan) until he could find ‘Haggar’ again.

Except, she was gone doing her own thing with the Alteans, growing her own Empire. And she didn’t leave it at that. I think that Acxa too is working for her (in a show of loyalty towards Lotor most likely…to try and help him), and has been trying to track Keith specifically. She literally tells us this.

Unlike the Druid, Acxa helps them. Acxa puts herself in a position where it seems like Keith and everyone else can trust her. She plays on Allura’s feelings for Lotor too – relating to her over the entire thing. It works.

Now, why am I talking about all of this? Because something’s up with Keith.

1.He doesn’t appear much in the trailer. Two scenes (get to your lions and when he’s fighting). The last time they pulled that with Keith, it was because he left Voltron. Now, I also think they only showed us footage from maybe 3-4 episodes, so that’s still a lot, and there was plenty of Voltron shown so Keith has to be there (not to mention stuff from NYCC), but the point still stands.

2. In this first pic of the group, he’s up front and center. Keith doesn’t shy away from being the leader now. His posture is open, confident, and he’s ready for anything.

Then we got the picture from what’s likely the filler episode, and it was pointed out that something looks terribly wrong with Keith’s eyes. 

There’s no shine to them, which is a pretty good indicator that you should be wary of a person, that something’s wrong with them. At first I thought it was just an error, cause budget, but they’ve added in that detail in smaller scenes before.

 It’s not there on purpose. (This series of pics came from this post here on twitter!)

It’s very likely that something or someone is working to ‘corrupt’ Keith in a sense. Probably his quintessence. Who does he currently trust that was shown looking for him specifically at the end of S7? Oh, right. Acxa.

It wouldn’t be hard to isolate Keith. Get Pidge and Hunk doing their own thing, Shiro busy being the Captain of the Atlas, and Lance and Allura off with one another? Not to mention the hurt Keith probably feels about that whole thing? Yeah, he’s going to be spending time with Acxa, likely being more isolated from the others and slowly corrupted.

The newest picture tells me this too. 

His eyes already seem dull there, and he’s physically very separated from the rest of the Paladins (outside of Shiro, but that makes sense given the layout of the ship). Pidge, Lance, and Hunk look ready to throw down with whatever they’re looking at, Shiro too, and Allura looks super concerned, but Keith doesn’t even look like he’s looking in the same direction.

He’s Voltron’s leader. He should be front and center if there’s a threat there (plus that’s the Keith-thing to do). He’s not. This is the second image where he looks off. Something is wrong.

In the trailer, we see him alone. He has nothing but his Marmora Blade with him. He looks cornered and desperate. That’s not a good thing. Something is wrong.

Now this started as a Lance post and turned into a Keith one. Why?

Well, if Keith’s subtly being corrupted, subtly starting to change and act differently, no one’s going to catch onto this, right?

Unless, of course, there’s someone around who almost caught onto a very similar scenario, but ended up just shrugging it off and felt terribly guilty over that. Someone who just happens to be defined by being adaptable and learning from his mistakes. Someone who seemed to lose part of his own story arc out of nowhere.

Lance was never going to be the one to save Shiro, because he’s going to be the one to save Keith. THAT is what the entire thing is building to. I mean, you can take it from a platonic standpoint if you wish though I don’t see it that way.

Keith being ‘corrupted’ is super similar to what happened with the clone, and that’s the entire point. Lance wasn’t able to help Shiro and sees it as a personal failure. We know he does because he was in tears about it. It’s especially important that Shiro tried to reach out to Lance in the Astral Plane – because that moment turned into a failure, and ultimately, that’s the place that Lance is going to actually save Keith.

I still think that we’re very likely to see a fight between the two of them – and no, I’m not romanticizing violence between a pairing. Jesus. The assumption that the fight in and of itself is the exciting part is disgusting. Keith won’t be in his right mind at all, and in the end, it won’t be Lance defeating Keith the way Keith defeated the clone that decides the ‘winner’. Keith outclasses Lance as a swordsman by a long shot, and Lance isn’t going to be able to defeat him.

Keith tried to reason with Shiro, tried to talk to him, but it didn’t work. In this case, Lance is going to try to do the same. He’s going to try and reach Keith because he doesn’t want to fight him. They’re not enemies. At the very least, they’re friends. And it’s going to work. He’s going to get through to him, because no, violence isn’t the answer to this at all.

That’s what makes it so powerful.

So, to summarize: Lance’s storyline with Shiro appeared to be dropped, but it really wasn’t. It was set up for his upcoming storyline instead.

[raybyanothername]

SPC - Winged, SEAL Team

Prompt from allyhope: At a bar and Clay is a target of homophobic abuse. Clay wants to ignore it but the guys stand up for him (can include Full Metal, love that guy).

645 words of Bravo bonding in the most satisfying of ways.

-.-.-

"Alright!" Full Metal slapped the table and the pointed across at Clay, "Your round, Spenser." Clay rolled his eyes, but stood to the sound of Trent and Sonny cackling.

"I still think I Never is suppose to be a slumber party game, not a bar game!" Clay called over his shoulder. A chorus of drunken laughter followed after him. Clay slouched against the bar, waiting for the bartender.

"Back again I see," the bartender, Lance came up to him with a stunning smile and a jaw like Michelangelo's David. "You've either lived a very boring life or your friends have done some weird shit."

Clay shrugged, rested in forearms one the table as he ducked his head. "Maybe I just need an excuse to keep coming back to see you." Lance blushed, but his smile grew so Clay was pretty certain he was shooting straight.

A man beside him jostled him as he got up, muttering under his breath. Lance tensed, straightening, "Five beers and five whiskeys right?"

"Yeah," Clay stood up, cleared his throat. Lance nodded his head and avoided eye contact. Clay returned to the table with the beers between his finger, "Whiskey on its way."

Sonny took his beer with a grin and a tip of his hat, "You get the bartender's number yet?" The table all looked at him expectantly.

"Nah," Clay shrugged his shoulders, plopped back into his seat, "Got kinda awkward." Brock's arms went wide, expectant, "Dude at the bar, no big deal."

Trent paused, midsip, "What wasn't a big deal?" Clay shook his head. Both Sonny and Full Metal set their beers back on the table.

"I could always go ask the bartender," Brock said with a smirk and a raised eye brow. Clay rolled his eyes.

"Just said something under his breath, Lance was uncomfortable, so I backed off." Clay explained in entirely too few details that the rest of the table extrapolated on with ease.

Sonny's face soured, his brow pinched. He looked around the bar and stood. Clay's eyes went wide, "Sonny, no!"

"Sonny, yes." Full Metal stood with a grin, bumped Sonny's shoulder, "I call first punch."

"Dibs is for front seats and flirting," Sonny clapped him on the shoulder and they both sauntered off to the pool table. It wasn't hard to pick out a bigot in a bar, especially if you were watching Clay like an overprotective mama bear the whole night.

Not that Sonny would claim such a thing. He'd just shrugged when Trent accused him of it.

Brock tasked himself with keeping Clay in his seat while Sonny and Full Metal confronted a burly man in a shirt two sizes too small. Trent had taken up a flanking position, silent and smirking.

"Your drinks," the waitress set the tray on the table. She didn't bat an eye at the brawl going on as she moved the whiskey glasses onto the table. Neither did the bouncer.

Whatever friends the man had, they hadn't wanted to die atop this particular hill. Least not at the hands of three SEALs. The fight didn't last long and very swiftly the bouncer escorted the man out as Sonny led his men back to the table.

"That was kind of overkill," Clay whined, head in his hands.

Brock snorted, "Talk shit, get hit. That's the rule." There was a chorus of agreement and Clay smiled.

"I'll drink to that," Sonny raised his whiskey and the rest of them followed suit. The waitress returned a moment later, with refills and the receipt for Clay. Lance had written his phone number on the back.

"He's off at 2 tonight," the waitress winked at him. Another round of cackling enveloped the table as Clay blushed.

"Never have I ever been such a successful wingman before." Full Metal grinned wide and toothy. The whole table, sans Clay, took a drink.

[dent-de-leon]

do you know why lance seems to be the fandom sweetheart for like a majority of people watching voltron? don't get me wrong, he has his great moments, but half of the time he's just plain annoying (so fucking annoying). maybe i'm just too old to like the kind of character lance is.

I’ve thought about this myself, and here’s what I found–relatability. Lance has, by all means, the most “normal” background. He’s intended to be the “everyman,” a character that’s typically easygoing and very much what you’d expect from an ordinary teen. For the pilot episode, our intro, he also feels like the main focus out of the ensemble cast. As such, he ends up being this slate that a lot of fans, teens especially, can project onto. They see themselves in his place. He has typical problems like homesickness, competitiveness, jealousy, inferiority. 

This is also why a lot of fans extrapolate those issues, I think. Particularly that last one. He’s no longer just someone who’s afraid of feeling left out or second-rate, suddenly he has depression or PTSD. Again, I think this is a result of fans seeing a bit of themselves in Lance and so projecting. It’s natural, and oftentimes people can find it sort of therapeutic. But still, there is something that’s always bothered me about fans insisting Lance in particular suffers from mental illness when we have a character in canon who does–and oftentimes, that part of Shiro’s life is pushed to the wayside in favor of adding those traits to Lance. 

Or, even worse, as I’ve said before, I’ve seen Lance focused k/l that covered Keith’s galra reveal. And Shiro was often shown as the most aggressively against Keith, either outright rejecting or even lashing out at him. A character who suddenly turns monstrous from his canon trauma, all so Lance could look better in comparison, and it’s…very upsetting to see. Anyway, I’m glad Shiro was the one in canon who showed Keith that unconditional love and support through his galra reveal, because so many fanworks believed the contrary. And therein lies something to consider–I’ve seen lots of fans either dismiss or demonize Shiro’s very real symptoms of mental illness, while simultaneously claiming Lance was good representation for it, and it was just…strange.

But again, I assume that’s because people are drawn to different characters. And for whatever reason, those few fans who erase Shiro’s mental illness and pass it off to Lance for the sake of “lang/st” find that “representation” from Lance to be more palatable. That is to say, someone without the very real symptoms Shiro shows. Which, you know, upsets me as someone with clinical depression and other mental health issues, but I digress. If that kind of projection helps other fans, then I guess I kind of understand. 

But I just raised a whole other topic there, so let’s talk about that–“lang/st.” Yeah. Putting Lance through lots of pain and suffering is so common, fandom coined a name. See also, the usually accompanying “klang/st.” So, yeah. If fans love Lance so much, why put their golden boy through so much suffering in a whole genre of fics? I think it’s because fans simultaneously love and hate the actual “everyman” aspect. Yes, Lance is like them. But they want him to be so much more!! They want him to have those deep, angsty backstories and heartbreaking character arcs like Shiro and Keith. 

And yet, suffering from trauma or having a bad childhood does not make a character inherently more intriguing or dimensional. It just doesn’t. People heard “he has a big family” and immediately went to middle child, he’s always left out, his family never loved him enough!! And then in canon the show runners told us he was the youngest of his family and spoiled, and fans were surprised. Personally, I think that’s very fitting for someone who behaves like him, but I digress. My point is, lots of fans wanted him to suffer because they either like angst or they assume it somehow builds development of character. 

But of course, the latter isn’t always true. And honestly? I think there are enough tragic origin stories in Voltron already. Like, at least we have this one guy who seems like he came from a loving family and had a relatively good life. Good for him!! I’m happy for him. And there’s nothing wrong with that, you know? Branching off that, I feel like a lot of klang/st is also to make k/l feel like it has more “substance.” Fans gave k/l the self-discovery arc of Keith’s galra reveal, even though sheith had that. They made Lance the loving and supportive one in the face of Keith’s galra blood, but in canon that’s Shiro. 

Similarly, I see prekerberos things where Keith and Lance were always together or pining. You know who were always side by side in prekerberos canon? Who had that kind of dynamic? Sheith. You know who Keith agonized over being separated from for that long year? Shiro, not Lance. He didn’t even remember Lance’s name. Of course, there are the edits where Lance is in Keith’s BOM trial, though those same fans will swear there was nothing romantic about those sheith scenes. 

Voltron’s twitter posts a video of the sheith hug followed by the group one, and fans just complain about the lack of a k/l hug. Altean Lance aus where Lance and Keith have a k/a dynamic is also common. Lance gushes about his love for Allura in his vlog? “Bad character developement”–should have made him talk about Keith instead. It’s like, fans expected certain things from k/l in canon. And when they didn’t get that, they borrowed the dynamic from other ships, while simultaneously hating those same ships. It’s very strange to me. 

I think part of what broke my heart the most though, was fans rejoicing about Shiro going missing because in their minds it meant Lance would “step up” and be that source of love and comfort in Keith’s life. And that just…I felt sick reading things like that. So yeah, Lance is the “everyman,” but a lot of fans want him to be so much more. There’s this oc quality of–give him everything he wants!! Make him an Altean prince! The Black Paladin! Bring in someone who’s going to be the love of his life!! People want Lance to “prove Keith wrong” and “be the best,” even though Black Paladin Lance significantly detracts from his canon character development. 

They pass onto him qualities of other characters because they think he “deserves” it. So, I’m going to say this–it’s probably because I can’t relate to Lance at all. I relate to Keith, with all his canon fear of feelings and abandonment, his deeply rooted attachment to those he loves, his introspective nature and inclination to act on instinct, his volatile intensity of emotion, his unbridled anger at injustice, his difficulty with letting go, his upsetting childhood, his fierce loyalty, his love of quiet but oppressive fear of isolation, his desire for found family, the way he values his beliefs over his life. So yeah, I really identify with Keith. Some of my meta? Probably projecting a little. It happens. So I understand why people do the same with Lance.

But just like Keith, Lance is still ultimately his own person. And the way he is in canon? He’s a good character all on his own. He’s not Keith or Shiro or Allura, but he’s himself. He’s someone who has a way of instigating important events–bringing all the paladins together for when they find the Blue Lion, following that mermaid and uncovering a whole nefarious plot, helping Allura realize her hidden potential and the very depth of her magic. He goes from a flighty playboy to someone actually shy and sincere, who develops very real feelings for Allura. He realizes being Black Paladin doesn’t make you suddenly better, understands the importance of working as a team and really grows into his role as a Red Paladin. Someone worthy of carrying on Alfor’s legacy, someone Allura can really be proud of. 

So yes, Lance has gotten lots of character development, and I think he’s a really intriguing person all on his own. No other character traits required. 

[glowstickhaloboy]

i never cared about mermaid AUs until this very second so have one

god you guys its long im so sorry but im also not at all, this is my aesthetic

lance spends his entire life on the bottom of the ocean, with his best friend hunk, who is completely content to live without bothering or being bothered by the humans above

“they dont even know about us, lance, but we know them all too well. look at what they do to our friends, look at what they do to our earth. if they knew about us, it would begin a new era. an era of destruction and disparity.”

“hunk, you are literally no fun.”

but lance agrees that maybe it is best to keep away from the surface so as not to be discovered. humans of old could be pretty unforgiving, and a few of the angrier ones probably still remembered the generation of radical mermaids who had disagreed with sailors invading their home...

so he stays by the ocean floor where he belongs, content to feel antsy for the rest of his life in order to keep everyone else happy.

but its not about to stay that way.

theres a coral reef that lance calls home and hes sleeping there when all of a sudden this little beepy piece of shit hits him on the head and wakes him up. lance is like “tf?” and inspects the little whatever-it-is, and it doesnt take much extrapolation to guess that it is manmade. its clunky and easily held in lance’s hand, but also very ugly. metallic, like some of the worse pollution mermaids will find.

he takes it to hunk, who pokes and prods at it, looking grim. nobody below the surface knows more about their technology than him. it’s hunk’s motto to know your enemy. “its definitely still active, whatever it is. i would say get rid of it.”

“get rid of it? how?”

“make it wash up to shore. wait until night and toss it on the beach. oh, wait - give it here for a second.”

lance hands it over mechanically, his mouth agape as his mind replays the words toss it on the beach over and over in his head. hunks takes a small tool and puts several dents in the whatever-it-is, damaging it in a way that looks semi-natural, like it got caught in a nasty current through rocky ocean beds, and all lance can think is, he wants me to go to the surface?

“youve always said, in no uncertain terms, that if i went up there i may as well have been committing suicide. but youre going to let me now, youre going to actually let me - me - go up and see the human world?”

“well, itll be night,” says hunk, handing the device back, “so all of the humans will be asleep. its not like youre going up there to be a diplomat. itll be a quick trip, lance, up and back down.” he seems to remember who he was talking to and became instantly more serious. “got it?”

“yeah, yeah, i got it, man, up and down,” says lance, grinning like a madman. “how long until the sun goes down?”

“no, lance, not just sundown. wait until its dark. midnight at least, or youll blind yourself. their sun is no joke to us bottom-dwellers.”

come nighttime, lance is beyond excited to see the world above. the moon, the stars, the sandy beach. lance is going to see it all with his own eyes.

the worst part is figuring out how far the surface was. lance has never been all the way to the top. usually, he stays down where the light of the sun doesnt even reach. as he nears, lance grows more and more excited. the surface. he is literally about to see a brand new world.

hunk is right. even with just a half-moon overhead, it is still bright up here. lance squints and covers his eyes, but this is nothing like the ocean floor. and it is beautiful. there are so many colors. there are structures and organisms lance has never seen before, things hes only seen in pictures - like trees. theyre so tall!

for a moment, lance forgets why hes here. he blinks up at the moon with wide eyes, awed, before realizing that the slowly-building sensation of burning is because he cant breathe. he plunges back underwater. even as he stares down at his home, he replays all the beautiful things hes seen in his minds eye.

then he goes back up.

there isnt really a beach. all there is is a steep, rocky cliffside that extends up a couple hundred feet. lance supposes that the floor drop-off happens too quickly for there to be sand, so rocks make sense. theres a cluster of especially craggly ones that stand out, though. there are other human-made things set up there, devices that beep and glow like the one in his hand.

he decides its best not to approach them, as curious as he is. if lance screws this up, hunk will never let him near the surface again.

his strength and movement work differently above water. hes lighter, quicker, stronger. when he winds his arm back and flings the piece forward, it goes a lot farther than he expects. mission accomplished though, right?

so he thinks. then, he hears a distinct voice: “is someone there?”

immediately, lance ducks beneath the water. his vision is insanely good up here, but the surface makes seeing things weird. things stretch and elongate and the beautiful stars disappear. shadows cast by humans turn into blobs of color as the humans themselves approach. lance cant believe that hes actually looking at a human so close, a living breathing human.

hes also positive that the human saw him before he could swim farther away. probably not good.

yep, thats a net coming down on him. lance is so fucked. hunk is absolutely never going to let lance live this down--assuming lance fucking survives.

hes caught and pulled back up to the surface, hissing and terrified and completely overwhelmed. humans were just as hunk said, lance shouldve trusted hunk, he should never have tried to do this--

his head breaks the surface once more. lance holds in as much air as he can, but the net cutting into his skin makes him wince in pain. he can hear someone speaking to him, the same voice as before, but conversation isnt really the first thing on his mind right now. lance thrashes, trying to break free and get back to the water, and suddenly he feels rough, warm, dry hands on his back.

“quiet!” says the voice. “quiet, quiet! dont wake anyone up!”

lance stops thrashing because he assumes this to be a threat. his entire body is quivering. hes never been out of water before. the human world is so hard. his lungs are starting to burn.

he finally looks at the human who caught him. hes, well, human. lance doesnt know what else to think about that. dark hair, violet eyes, pale skin. lance is desperate to get away from him.

“stop wiggling, i cant cut you loose,” says the human. he has a knife in his hand, and hes holding it above the net. “i dont want to hurt you. i just wanted to make sure you didnt get away.”

lance has several things to say which would be far more cutting than the knife, but he needs to breathe, and he wants to see if this brash human will actually untie him, so he commands his body to freeze. “so you can understand me, that’s good,” says the human. he slides his knife under a clear tangle in the net, saws upward briefly, and just like that, everything constricting lance falls away. the ocean is right there. lance is free.

he gracelessly flops back into the water with the human’s call of, “wait!” ringing in his ears. the first thing lance does is suck in all the oxygen he can, and then he books it down for the bottom of the ocean. thats enough time on the surface for him, thanks very much. hunk has absolutely been right all along, and everything about that whole experience was terrible.

except for the beauty of it.

involuntarily, lance stops. he can still hear the wait! in his head. he can feel the decision in front of him, tangibly, like its something he can reach out and grab. he knows that its of the life-changing variety.

the mess, he thinks, is already made. the human spotted him. at worst, he takes lance and dissects him up, or he relentlessly pursues the rest of lance’s people, at what cost to lance’s village, his home?

wait!

lance looks back toward the surface. he can see the smallest, vaguest blur of red up there. the human hasnt moved. lance’s vision is far superior, so he knows the human cant see him. he will be thinking lance that is long gone. lance can easily swim away and pretend this never happened.

he swims a tentative stroke closer to the surface. the human doesnt react. lance still has time to change his mind.

he doesnt.

he appears out of reach of any net, but the human doesnt even seem to have that on his mind. he pulls his head out of his hands at the sound of disrupted water and reaches out to lance, amazed. “please!” he says. “i just want to talk to you! im not going to hurt you.”

lance swims a little closer, but decided that he doesnt need to be anywhere within the range of reach. if he keeps the place where his neck connects to his shoulders underwater, he can breathe just fine. he blinks at the human, frowning a little. “of course i can understand you. im not stupid,” he says in spanish.

the human’s brow furrows. “what? did you just call me stupid.”

“yes,” says lance. “you just trapped me in a net. i dont think i was the rude one here.”

“do you have a name?” asks the human.

lance rolls his eyes. “you love to insult the intelligence of those from different cultural backgrounds, dont you? yes, i have a name. do you? let me guess: hairman, the destroyer of peace.”

“what are you talking about?” says the human. “whatever, doesnt matter. my names keith. i investigate legends and paranormal sites. im here with two other investigators named pidge and shiro. we came to make contact with you.”

lance is thoroughly unimpressed. “we dont want any.”

“did you throw this?” keith holds up the metal device that lance indeed chucked onto the rocks like an old, broken conch shell.

“maybe,” says lance, in a way that leaves little doubt that he takes full credit for that stupid thing’s destruction. “what does it do?”

“it gathers data,” keith explains. his eyes are shining. his entire body is very still. he has not taken his eyes off of lance. “we sent it down to monitor disruptions in the ocean currents made by living creatures. every three seconds, it sends a blip of information to my laptop up on shore, which i catalogue and compile to analyze.”

lance stretches his arms above his head and groans loudly. “im getting bored,” he announces.

“you literally asked.”

“whatever, hairman. you cant keep disturbing our peaceful lives with your human inventions. we didnt do anything to you.”

“my name is not hairman, where did you even...” keith mutters, then sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, and continues freshly: “i didnt mean to offend you. i want to study you.”

lance shakes his head. “actually, you need to forget you ever saw me. if you actually care at all about mermaids, then you cant let any other of your kind know that we exist. our homes and way of life would be destroyed. humans only take. they dont know how to give.”

“i promise that im not going to take anything from you. i want you to trust me. i only want to find out more about you. please, please, give me the chance to learn about you. i’ll give you something,” says keith. “i’ll give you anything. what do you want?”

lance eyes keiths shoulders and head (but avoids looking at his legs, he finds human legs... weird and unsettling, so knobby and straight and stunted), perusing. “have you heard the legends behind a mermaid’s kiss?” asks lance.

“mermaids used kisses to seduce sailors before dragging them underwater and drowning them,” keith recites, eying lance suspiciously.

lance cant help but smile as he drifts a little closer. “are you brave?” he purrs.

keith takes a step away from the waterline, and lance gets ready to parade victoriously back down to the village and tell hunk all about how he epically drove the humans away with his fierce intimidation skills. theres no way this guy is sticking around for more than a few seconds.

“im brave,” keith asserts, and his voice doesnt shake. “what is it you want?”

“if you want me to trust you, then i want you to trust me,” says lance. “one little kiss. get down on your knees and bend all the way over the water. i wont drown you... unless i think you deserve it. do you believe in your cause that much? are you willing to stake your life on it?”

lance totally isnt going to drown this guy, but hes practiced the part of the sultry mermaid for years now. his ancestors are his idols, hes always been inspired by their wily charm.

“fine.”

keith, unexpectedly, gets down on his knees and scoots right to the edge of the rocks, which takes lance by complete surprise, so much so that he outright hesitates. keith notices this but makes no comment. he waves lance closer, leaning forward so that his entire body is vulnerable over open water. he doesnt close his eyes, even when lance’s lips are only a finger’s width away. lance has to admit, he likes this human’s boldness.

even if keith doesnt relax for the kiss, lance does. he kisses keith with the sultry gusto of all his ancestors, until he physically feels keiths resolve crumble like charcoal, and then he does something nasty.

he splashes keith, hard, just violently enough that keith might think lance is pulling him toward the surface, when in reality, lance is just laughing and lagging back a few feet of distance. as keith catches his breath, lance feels an ego sprout and bloom inside of him. humans--or, at least, this human--were entirely too fun.

“how was that?” asks lance. “too bad you cant tell anyone youve kissed a mermaid. the ones who live only get to live because we know they wont tell the tale.”

keith touches his lips with two fingers. “i wont tell anyone,” he says. “i promise. will you trust me, now?”

lance keeps him in suspense. he needs time to think about this. a part of him considers telling hunk, but he knows hunk would immediately veto everything about this. which lance doesnt walk. as strange as it is to admit, he thinks he likes the idea of whispering secrets into this sailor’s ear.

“i’ll decide by tomorrow night,” he says. “come back then.”

lance is ready to leave, but keith yells, “wait!” again. “you still havent told me your name!”

lance smiles at him and ducks below the water. ohhhh yeah, he thinks. not even the ancestors ever felt this smooth.

i was gonna keep going but YALL this is so embarrassingly long and i have homework to do so im just gonna drop it here and if this posts gains literally any traction i’ll make a part 2

also i have not proofread a single fuck of this so have fun with that