#I was really hoping for a little BP Lance but oh well | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

laallomri · 6 years

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[fic for keithtober, from these prompts]

[day 2: black paladin. keith and lance talk on the control deck at night a few days after he becomes bp]

It’s four days after the Thayserix incident, four days after Keith almost got everyone killed. The memory of it eats at him, pricks at the back of his mind and the center of his chest and the pit of his stomach, waits until he’s alone, until it can spread over the rest of him, like a thundercloud over a blue sky, and whisper failure failure failure.

It makes any alone time almost unbearable, but nighttime is the worst, when everything is dark and quiet and the whispers become shouts. Tonight is so bad he can’t sleep at all; after an hour of tossing and turning, he finally concedes defeat and gets out of bed. It gets cold in the castle ship’s hallways sometimes, so he pulls on a sweater that he got at a planet that Voltron visited last month. He doesn’t feel like putting on his boots, so he just puts on his thickest pair of socks he can find in his closet.

He wanders around the castle ship for a while, though in the end his feet take him where they always do when he can’t sleep: the control room. It’s dark, the only illumination coming from the stars and the colorful lights along the paladin chairs and Allura’s pedestal.

Keith goes to the front of the room, where the window curves. He leans in the curve, arms crossed and head resting against the window, and looks out at the stars. He wonders if Shiro is doing the same, wherever he is; wonders if he can send him a message, if he tries hard enough.

He squeezes his eyes shut. Hello, he says. This is your brother speaking. I hope you are okay. I’m going to keep looking for you.

(it’s dumb, the kind of thing he would have done when he was little and used to climb up to the roof with his dad and point out made-up constellations because he couldn’t remember the names of the real ones. it’s dumb, but it makes him feel a little better, makes him feel a little less like he can’t breathe, so he lets himself do it anyway)

I hope you’re someplace nice, he thinks next. Maybe a beach somewhere. An alien resort. With tacky floral-print shirts and overpriced sodas.

He opens his eyes and shifts to sit with his knees drawn up to his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs. He likes the idea of Shiro on vacation somewhere, of him smiling and laughing and being nothing but happy. Shiro tries hard to act normal, but Keith can feel the heaviness around him sometimes. He hates it, hates that he can’t do anything about it. Big brothers usually take care of you; what do you do when the person who takes care of you needs to be taken care of?

Keith squeezes his eyes shut again.

Pidge and Hunk said they’re working on a way to communicate with earth, he says. If we don’t find you by then, I’ll say hello to your mom and to Adam for you. And I’ll record what they say back so you can hear it, too.

He starts to say more, but right then he hears the door whoosh open. He stiffens, then opens his eyes and turns. Lance is standing in the doorway, wearing his pajamas and robe and looking as surprised as Keith feels.

“Hi,” he says. He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Is it okay if I come in?”

“Sure,” Keith says.

Lance hovers by the door for a moment longer, then comes over to where Keith is sitting and plops down beside him, cross-legged.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he says. “I accidentally fell asleep after training earlier and didn’t wake up until dinner, so now I’m wide awake.”

A pause. Keith realizes, belatedly, that he’s probably supposed to respond with his own reason for still being awake. But the silence has gone on too long, and he doesn’t really feel like explaining anything right now, so he just tightens his arms around his legs and tucks his chin against his knees.

A few minutes pass.

“Hey,” Lance says suddenly. He points to a cluster of stars directly ahead. “That looks like a face.”

Keith squints at the stars. It just looks like every other collection of stars. “What?”

Lance traces his finger in the air. “Look, you can see the hair, and the eyes, and kind of a round nose…”

“Oh.” Keith lifts his head. The stars do look like a face, though a weirdly-shaped one, like in those wacky paintings Shiro’s mother has hanging on the walls of her apartment. “Yeah, I see it. Sort of.”

“And those over there”—Lance points left—“look like a shoe. Maybe the face stars lost it.”

Keith frowns. “How do you lose your shoe?” he asks.

“One of my baby cousins does it all the time,” Lance says. He shifts, stretching his legs out in front of him and leaning back on his palms. “Pretty much every time I take her to the park. She wanders around and then one of her shoes falls off and she just. Keeps walking. As if nothing ever happened. She literally never notices.”

Keith laughs, though it’s quiet, more of a huff than an actual sound. “That’s kinda cute.”

“Excuse you,” Lance says, indignant. “That’s not kinda cute. That’s fucking adorable. She’s the cutest toddler in the entire universe.” He pauses. “Well, tied with my other baby cousins. And my niece and nephew. And Hunk’s nieces.”

“Heavy competition,” Keith says.

“Competition is good,” Lance says. “It keeps you on your toes.”

He taps his toes together as he says it. He’s wearing the lion slippers, so it looks like the lions are bumping foreheads.

“Stop making your lions fight,” Keith says.

Lance blinks at him, then at his slippers. It’s a stupid joke, and Keith expects him to ignore it, or to make fun of him, but he just grins, wide and bright. The sight of makes Keith’s heart skip a beat.

“Hey, that was a joke!” Lance says, delighted. “Hunk was right, Galra Keith is funnier than regular Keith.”

The comment is offhand, the comment doesn’t mean anything, but still, it sticks in Keith’s head—

(Galra Keith, his mind whispers. Galra Keith piloting an Altean lion, Galra Keith leading the team, Galra Keith fighting the Galra when he doesn’t even know what side of the war his Galra family is on)

Keith breathes, in and out. He tucks his chin against his knees again. For a while he thought he was okay with being part Galra, but now—now it feels weird again, like the first time he learned it. Every time he sits in Black, he thinks of the last time a Galra sat in them, thinks of how horribly Black was treated. Doesn’t it bother Black, that a Galra pilots them again? Doesn’t it hurt them to have to bond with a Galra again, to listen to a Galra’s commands?

Keith knows he’s not like Zarkon, that he would never ever ever be like Zarkon, that even if he found out that his Galra family supports the Empire, he would still side with Voltron. But just because he knows this doesn’t mean that the Black Lion knows; how can they trust him so readily when the Galra have only ever hurt them, and used them, and took away the paladin they accepted after ten thousand years of rejecting every effort to bond with them?

He exhales slowly, trying to calm his twisting stomach. It makes him feel sick to think about this, but he can’t not think about this, either.

“Are you okay?” Lance asks.

Keith comes back to the present with a jolt. “What?”

“You’re really quiet,” Lance explains. “Well, you’re quiet a lot, but I meant—” He breaks off, uncertain. “I didn’t offend you or anything, did I? I won’t make Galra Keith jokes if it bothers you.”

Keith shakes his head. He shrinks into himself, a question on the tip of his tongue. It feels almost physically painful to ask, but he needs to ask someone, so he pushes past his discomfort and says, all in a rush, “Do you think the Black Lion hates that a Galra is piloting it again?”

For a long moment Lance doesn’t say anything. Keith stares at the stars, too nervous to look at him.

“I think,” Lance says finally, “that the Black Lion hates you referring to them as an ‘it.’”

Keith huffs. “I—I don’t usually—it was a mistake, in my head I—”

“It’s okay,” Lance interrupts. Keith is still too nervous to look at him, but he thinks he can hear a smile in his voice. “I know you didn’t mean to be rude.”

Another pause. Lance shifts again. Keith can’t resist a peek, and sees out of the corner of his eye that Lance is sitting cross-legged once more.

“Black chose you,” Lance says. “They wouldn’t have done that if they hated you. People don’t hang out with people they hate.”

(you hang out with me, Keith’s mind whispers, and you hate me)

(does he, though? says another part, the part that’s dumb, and stupid, and ridiculous, the part that makes him have to catch his breath whenever he looks at Lance. he must like you at least a little, right?)

(wrong¸ says the first part, wrong, wrong, he only puts up with you because of the team, because he has to—)

(but Lance sits by him at every meal, and nudges him whenever Coran says something ridiculous, and shrugs at him whenever Pidge goes on one of her scientific rants)

(but Lance stands by him at coalition meetings, and grins at him whenever Allura puts a pretentious diplomat in their place, and laughs with him when Hunk accidentally makes a robot that chases them around the castle ship)

(but Lance tells him it’s okay to miss Shiro, it’s okay to keep moving, that he can lead Voltron without leaving anyone behind, that he can lead Voltron without feeling like the responsibility will drown him, because Lance will always pull him out of the water before he sinks)

(how could he hate you? whispers the dumb, stupid, ridiculous part of his mind. how could that be right?)

For once he wants to listen to that dumb, stupid, ridiculous part, but he wants to be sure, so he lifts his head, and looks at Lance, and says, quick so he won’t chicken out, “Are we friends?”

“Of course,” Lance says, and it’s so immediate, and certain, and Keith’s heart feels it might explode out of his chest. “Did you”—he laughs, the short, uncomfortable laugh of someone who is suddenly very nervous—“did you think we weren’t?”

“I wasn’t sure,” Keith says honestly. “You’re my friend but I didn’t know if I’m your friend.”

“Oh,” Lance says. Something strange passes over his expression, too fast for Keith to read. “Well, you are. I’m your friend and you’re my friend.”

“We’re friends,” Keith says.

“Yes,” Lance confirms. “We’re friends. Buddies. Pals.” He winks and clicks his tongue, shooting a finger gun at Keith. “Compatriots. Chums. Accomplices.”

Keith laughs, properly this time. “Accomplices?” he repeats. “Are we committing a crime?”

“If you want,” Lance says. “That’s what friends are for! Late night talks, and goofing off, and doing what the other person wants.” He puts a hand on Keith’s shoulder and looks directly at him, his expression very serious. “If you want to do a crime, I will do it, too. Ride or die, my friend.”

Keith wants to answer, wants to say that based on the Shiro model of friendship, friends are supposed to prevent you from doing crimes, not help you do them—but it’s kind of hard to think, because Lance’s hand is warm and heavy on his shoulder, and he’s looking right at Keith, and his eyes are always pretty but here, in this dark room with the stars in front them, they’re practically glowing, sparkling bright and brown.

So Keith just swallows, and clears his throat, and says, “I think we should avoid crime.”

“Suit yourself,” Lance says, shrugging. He rubs Keith’s shoulder and Keith’s stomach flips. “This sweater is really soft.”

“You can borrow it sometime if you want,” Keith says, as if the sight of Lance in his sweater wouldn’t make him combust on the spot.

“Thanks, man, maybe I will,” Lance says. His hand drops from Keith’s shoulder. He yawns. “I’m gonna turn in now. I think after talking to you I can actually fall asleep.”

Keith’s mouth twitches. “Are you saying that I’m boring?”

Lance blinks at him, then grins.

“Another joke!” he says, pumping his fist triumphantly. “Galra Keith is a comedian.” He gets to his feet. “You gonna come, too? Do you think you can sleep now?”

Keith thinks of his room, dark and quiet; thinks of the whispers in the back of his head, waiting for him to be alone so they can shout failure at him again. He thinks of Lance, smiling at his bad jokes; of Lance, saying I’m your friend and you’re my friend; of Lance, who finds him when he’s drowning, and pulls him out of the water before he sinks.

He looks up at Lance and smiles.

“Yes,” he says, and gets to his feet. “I think I’ll be okay.”

#voltron #keithtober #keithtober2018 #lance mcclain #keith kogane #klance #my fics #my post #long post #100

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ash818 · 6 years

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hi ash, how are you? Was wondering what Jon and Tish were up to these days?

It is not possible, as it turns out, to involve yourself with only one Queen.

They are all hopelessly tangled in each other’s lives, and to love one of them is to surrender to the rest, who will adopt your troubles as their troubles and your triumphs as their triumphs. Aunt Thea settles in next to you, swirling a glass of wine, and smiles as if she knows your secrets just before deftly teasing them out of you. Mrs. Queen tiptoes up to the edge of her children’s boundaries, but she can’t resist peeking over; mostly, she is too sincere to refuse. Abigail doesn’t even bother to tiptoe. Mr. Queen is the most hands-off, but even he quietly smooths over little difficulties behind your back. You don’t find out that he’s done it until months later, if ever.

So when Mrs. Queen was struggling to find an administrative assistant not long after my graduation, I suppose she found it perfectly natural to ask me.

“I can’t exactly post ‘occasional vigilantism’ as a requirement on LinkedIn,” she told me. “But the secret is safe with you, and you have the requisite skill set. I think you’d be perfect. Ideal. Sans pareil.” She tilted her head faintly. “Did I say that right?”

I tried to be gentle when I pointed out, “My boyfriend’s mother would be my boss.”

“Is that weird?” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m Jon’s boss, and it’s not weird. You know if you get tired of him, you still get to stay. I hope that’s not your concern. You can keep coming to family dinners and everything.”

That honestly had not occurred to me. “Wouldn’t the rest of the office consider it blatant nepotism?”

“With Jon, they got over it as soon as they realized he wasn’t useless. You’ll be fine too.” She leaned closer to me and said earnestly, “Look, I could really use the help.”

I knew as much; Jon had been complaining for months that she shouldn’t be going it alone anymore.

“I know you’re looking for something in your field, but it seems like that might take some time. This is only a first job to get you started and build a little work history, just until you find something better.”

As I said, Mrs. Queen is too sincere to refuse.

When I came into the office to formally accept her offer, she shook my hand across her desk and said, “Don’t breathe a word to Jon. I want to surprise him.”

My first morning at Panoptic, she called Jon into her office to meet her new admin, and she had a good giggle at the look on his face. But the shock wore off in about five minutes, and at the first opportunity, he tried to back me against a wall and put his hands up my shirt.

“This was nowhere in the job description,” I said, once I had worked up some self-control.

“Nope.” He bent down to kiss my neck. “This is just perks.”

It took me longer than it should have to push him backwards, but eventually I managed it. “Your mother did not hire me to make your life more fun.”

“Of course she didn’t. That would be messed up.” He sighed theatrically. “So no bending you over my desk.”

Heat washed through me, and I closed my eyes and let myself imagine it for just a moment. With an effort, I shook my head. “No inappropriate use of any desks.”

In my first week as Felicity Queen’s admin, I learned to navigate her unusual scheduling software, the source code of which she had modified heavily to suit her preferences. I learned to document meetings in her idiosyncratic system, to recognize her frantic hand signal for, “Tell them I’m busy,” and to brew coffee strong enough to wake the dead.

A few of the employees - mostly protectors who had guarded me in the past - welcomed me enthusiastically. The others reserved judgment, and I overheard at least one joke in the break room, speculating on what I had really been hired to do here, which cemented my resolve about desks and the uses thereof.

On my sixth day at Panoptic, I met Jeremy Price Longwood.

“I’m sorry, who?” Mr. Queen asked at dinner the previous night.

“Think Chris Hemsworth,” Mrs. Queen explained. “Or Pratt or Evans or Pine. Really, any of the Chrises.”

Mr. Queen blinked, just once, where a man less stoic might have grimaced in distaste. “Ah.”

“We’re guarding his face,” Jon said. “Specifically his face. It’s insured for half a million.”

“Much more than that, certainly,” I said.

He gave me a look.

The next morning, Mrs. Queen called together the team delegated to Mr. Longwood’s case. “He’s in Starling to shoot a Romeo and Juliet ‘reimagining,’ as if we needed another one of those. Ever since that werewolf movie, he’s been seeing an uptick in creepers. Nothing he hasn’t handled before, but we’re going to keep somebody nearby. We don’t want some poor deluded soul running on set and shoving a bundle of love letters down his shirt. It’s embarrassing, and he’s had enough of that this year.”

“Enough love letters down his shirt?” said Ms. Ramirez.

“Enough embarrassment.” Mrs. Queen gave a little shudder. “The werewolf thing. Poor guy.”

He had his shirt off for half the movie. Personally, I thought he had nothing at all to be embarrassed about.

“Sounds pretty standard,” Jon said, getting to his feet. “Who wants the first evening shift?”

Not half an hour later, the man himself came striding through the front doors with a small styrofoam cup in his hands, and he came straight to me at the front desk. “Hey, sorry I’m late,” he said. “Y’all know the numbers have rubbed off the elevator buttons?”

On film, he was lovely, but in person, he was devastating. It took me a moment to answer him. “I apologize for the confusion. Can I get you anything? Water or coffee?”

He raised the styrofoam cup. “Your neighbors one floor up - the divorce law firm? - they hooked me up.” He gave me a conspiratorial smile, and my heart skipped a beat. “No one tell my wife I walked in there.”

I would have loved to joke right back. All I managed was, “Of course not.” Hopefully my cheeks weren’t visibly pink. “I’ll show you to the conference room and lets Mrs. Queen know you’re here.”

“How did you find out about us?” was among Mrs. Queen’s standard battery of questions for new clients.

“A friend gave me your name,” said Mr. Longwood. “You came recommended by Bruce Wayne, so he figured you must be the real deal.”

Mrs. Queen looked unduly pleased by that, considering.

By the time he left an hour later, half the staff was as charmed as I was.

“Aw, he’s gonna be easy,” Darius said. “I can already tell. No clubbing, no foolishness, no babysitting his drunk ass. This dude lives in the gym and eats unsalted chicken breast.”

“Certainly looks that way,” Ms. Ramirez agreed. “Did you hear he called me ma’am? I love when these Southern boys do that. It means they’ll fucking listen.”

Once everyone else had cleared out, I turned to Mrs. Queen. “Didn’t Mr. Queen and Mr. Wayne have a bit of a falling out?”

“They did, but he never fell out with Panoptic. Bruce used to have Dig guarding him every time he was in Starling.”

“Was that, ah, strictly necessary?” I said delicately. “For Batman?”

“Of course not. Bruce just thought it was funny.”

Within a few days, Mr. Longwood left us all utterly disarmed.

Except for Jon. Very few people can disarm Jonathan Queen, and Jeremy Price Longwood is not among them. After a week of protective services and one more office meeting, Jon’s ultimate assessment was: “What a cheeseball.”

“I think he’s sincere,” I said.

“That’s because he’s a skillful cheeseball.”

“Ah, of course, he fooled the silly little girl,” I said, crossing my arms. “But you see right through him with an unbiased eye.”

“He makes you all fluttery. Admit it.”

“Darius and Ms. Ramirez also found him courteous and friendly, and you can’t accuse either of them of getting fluttery.”

“Jones likes anyone who pays for lunch, and Ramirez likes dumb golden retrievers who sit and stay on command.”

“You weren’t this mean about the oil exec making business trips to Angola - the one who almost definitely had a genuine personality disorder. But this one, you can’t stand.”

“This one expects me to like him. The BP guy had the decency not to give a damn.”

I sighed. “All right, Jonathan.”

It’s not difficult to understand, in the end. Jon is a good-looking man, if I do say so myself, and he is in fantastic shape. But he lives in a permanent state of three-day scruff, and he will always look more boyish than debonair. He is in the kind of shape optimized to slam into you like a hammer, not the kind engineered to look good on camera.

Perfectly gelled and professionally dressed Jeremy Price Longwood is standing right there, and of course Jon is supremely irritated by him. It’s like when I have to stand next to willowy Elaine Diggle, magnified severalfold.

“Tell me something,” I said, mostly as a distraction. “What was so funny about asking Mr. Diggle to guard people who didn’t exactly need guarding?”

“Oh, that.” Jon shook his head. “My dad spent years pretending to lose sparring matches to Dig, just to make sure everybody knew what a helpless marshmallow he was. Drove Dig up the wall.”

I never quite understood the dynamics of combat sports. “Why would he care, if it was all part of their cover?”

“You know when you get old enough to realize your dad is letting you win at Battleship or whatever?”

No, I couldn’t say I knew how that felt.

Jon cleared his throat. “It’s condescending as hell. Especially when he thinks it’s hilarious, and you can’t make him stop laughing, because if you try he’s just going to lay you out on the floor again.”

“He did this to you as well,” I surmised.

“He wears ties and reading glasses,” Jon said, rolling his eyes. “He’s just a boring middle-aged public servant, play-fighting to stay in shape. He doesn’t even know how to break someone’s neck. Honest.”

“You Queens are a strange tribe.”

Jon shrugged. “You joined. What does that make you?”

What, indeed?

That summer, I learned Panoptic inside out. I took notes on Mrs. Queen’s consultations with a businessman who traveled extensively in Mexico, with one of Laurel Lance’s attorneys recently assigned to an organized crime case, and with a woman who wore a cast on her left wrist and who had recently procured a restraining order against her husband.

Most of the people who came through our doors were terrified for one reason or another. Mrs. Queen coaxed information out of them with a practiced cheerfulness that should have felt inappropriate, but which they mostly found comforting. Jon did it much more bluntly, which occasionally rubbed people the wrong way, but more often inspired shockingly unreserved trust.

“That’s one of the upsides of a runaway mouth,” Mrs. Queen said ruefully. “People notice you’ve fumbled the reins, and they assume that’s the same thing as honesty.”

I shook my head. “I think it’s because they can tell he’s genuinely listening. Most people wait for their turn to talk.”

“You know,” Mrs. Queen tipped her head at me, “not one of his teachers, through twenty-ish years of school, ever singled out listening as one of his strengths.”

“Mr. Queen is the same way,” I pointed out. “He looks you right in the eyes, and you feel like you have his complete and undivided attention.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “Even when he’s actually thinking about the fastest way to get you out of his office.” She grinned, swiveling back to her computer. “Oliver worked hard at his politician face.”

By September, I knew more about my boyfriend’s mother than anyone reasonably should.

I knew that she could only stare at a screen for three hours before she got a headache. She took her disgusting coffee with a disgusting amount of artificial sweetener. She got anxious before Skype meetings with Dig and Lyla, because this was their baby she was raising. She wore a size six or eight, depending on the brand, and a nice man named Warren dyed her hair every seven weeks.

“I suspect Thursday nights are date nights,” I mused out loud to Jon one afternoon. “She rarely leaves after five, and she sometimes sends me to Martin’s Wine Cellar first.”

“That’s nice,” he said vaguely. “Thursdays are Bordeaux sex. Everybody loves Bordeaux sex.” A few moments later, he looked up from his glassbook to frown at me. “Do you think my family has boundary issues?”

I shrugged and went back to my backlog of emails.

Over the course of Romeo and Juliet’s shooting schedule, Panoptic intercepted a few cringeworthy letters to Mr. Longwood, and our protectors turned away the odd paparazzo or pushy fan, but altogether the job was as easy as Darius predicted.

“Longwood’s got a solid right straight too,” Darius said. “Apparently stage fighting isn’t complete bullshit.”

Mrs. Queen narrowed her eyes at him. “You’ve been beating up your principal?”

I glanced at Jon, who looked both annoyed and intrigued.

“He’s gone to work on some strike mitts with me, that’s all,” Darius said. “I told you, this dude lives at the gym.”

“Just don’t mess up his face,” Jon advised with mock seriousness. “Be very careful with the face.”

“You want to take a swing at him,” I said, as soon as Darius left the room. “Don’t pretend.”

His shrug was not denial.

“He’s an excellent client, and you may not hit him,” Mrs. Queen said. “No matter how annoyingly pretty he is.”

“That’s not the - “

“Yes, it is.” On her way out the door, she patted his cheek, and then she nodded meaningfully at me. “She thinks you’re adorable. Good enough, right?”

She winked at me, and then she headed for her office.

Jon rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. “I think the boss just gave us permission to flirt at work. I don’t like it.”

I gave him a couple of consoling pats. “It’s just perks, darling.”

When Romeo and Juliet wrapped, there was no call for Mr. Longwood to return to our office, but he dropped by to say thank you and sign autographs. He had that kind of class. For Jon, he offered an especially strong handshake and his most sparkling Southern smile - “Thank you for all you do” - and Jon returned it warmly.

As soon as the door closed behind Longwood, Jon muttered, “Extremely punchable face, though.”

Mrs. Queen and I exchanged a smile, and we went back to work.

#arrow #olicity fic #legacy verse #jon and tish #felicity queen #jonathan queen #laetitia cuvier #Anonymous

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cloudybakery · 6 years

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Voltron s6 thoughts and feelings(spoilers, mostly positive, none of that hate shit here)

SO OH MY GOD THAT FUCKING HURT BUT IT WAS SO GOOOOOD

so this is just gonna stream of consciousness okay

LETS TALK ABOUT HOW THEY GAVE LANCE A VULNERABLE MOMENT WHERE HE CRIED AND IT WASNT A JOKE THAT SHIT GOT ME i was so so happy about that?? Yea Allura comforted him and stuff and I was hoping it would be keith but also he and Allura grew close this season and I like their relationship as a friendship all ships aside because sometimes you need that?? like tbh I want them to have a punk level friendship someday like can you imagine that’d be so cute

i cried when they destroyed the castle of lions like i fucking cried

OKAY BLACK PALADINS??? OOOOOOOOF i was so tense thats probably the most tense I’ve been since the beginning of the Chroma Conclave arc in Critical Role like holy shit that was amazing and so well done

“you’re my brother, I love you” JUST THROW ME OFF A CLIFF THAT WAS SO GOOD the flashbacks of younger keith were so cute bless you crew for giving us that

Keith??? Is so pretty??? what the fuck I’m gay

The fighting was a little heavy this season and as someone who lives for plot and character development through dialogue i was kinda put off, but they still did a lot of characters justice

KEITH AND KROLIA BACKSTORY I WAS A MESS AND A HALF FUCKIN HELL that shit was amazing like I was so happy they gave us that

They didn’t kill Krolia thank g o d

KEITH IS LIKE,,,,,,,20 OR SOMETHING PHYSICALLY part of me is still shook about that but also like he got to spend two whole years with his mom and his space wolf reconnecting with her and that just made me so happy

his hair is so long and tbh I never want him to stop growing it out

WHAT IF WE GET PONYTAIL KEITH PLEASEEEEE I NEED IT

I CALLED IT I FUCKING KNEW IT I NEVER TRUSTED THAT SON OF A BITCH LOTOR okay so maybe I did for a little bit but thats good writing on their part they let us all get complacent with the paladins and then BAM HE’S A POWER HUNGRY PIECE OF SHIT

Shiro d i e d. Like, full on died. that was crazy and still has me shook

Lol we’ve been right about the astral plane since the beginning im dying

WHITE HAIR SHIRO WHITE HAIR SHIRO tbh if you think about it Josh was technically hinting at that with his little “spoiler” post on insta

Allura yeeted Shiro back into his body js

Ummmm Studio Ghibli hair WHO like that’s all I could think when Keith’s hair was whipping around him during the last ep

ALLURA THE REAL LIFE CLERIC bringing paladins back to life left and right

okay the dnd episode was so perfect lemme just say KURON LOVE DND SO MUCH???? WHAT A NERD??? But also me with the backstory and wanting to play the same class,,, His only redeeming quality I wonder if Shiro likes dnd that much

Allura being an archer was soooo good she was so excited

thank u dnd episode for never explicitly saying what gender Pidge’s character was just that they were a dwarf I take my representation where I can get it

Kuron using his full name for dnd is such a mood

still not over the fact that lance named his character Pike

WHEN KEITH WENT PARTIALLY GALRA IN THE BP EPISODE I ALMOST SCREAMED THAT WAS SO COOL

he got back in his paladin armor and I cried

Pidge and Hunk get to build Shiro’s new arm!!

new drinking game every time Lotor says something along the lines of “this couldn’t have been possible without you Allura” take a sip bc he said that so many times oh my god it was verging on hilarious

lol I recoiled at the Lotura kiss I don’t even hate the ship it was just a knee jerk reaction oml

I love that it took the mice telling Allura about Lance’s feelings for her to understand what a babe

I NEED FANART OF LANCE GIVING THE MICE A BATH LIKE THATS SO CUTE I’ll fukin make it myself

HUNK TOOK LEAD ON SO MUCH STUFF THIS SEASON MY SOFT BOI IS A LEADER LIKE THEY TRUSTED HIM WITH SO MUCH IM SO PROUD

Pidge doesn’t get enough credit for the hacking she does I half expected Lance to hug her after she disabled the virus she was so stressed this poor child let her rest

tbh give them all a break, THEY NEED DOWNTIME AFTER THAT

while I was a little sad that Keith didn’t get a lot of time to reunite with everyone, they were kind of on the clock so it makes sense story wise, and hopefully next season he will get some time to talk with each of them for a little bit

THEY’RE GOING BACK TO EARTH OH MY G OD LANCE IS GONNA GET A FAMILY REUNION IM SO READY FOR THIS ARC

Bless Coran in the last episode he was the comic relief we all needed at the moment but also him losing the castle was deep and it hurt

THERE WERE A BILLION SHIRO CLONES THAT SHIT WAS TERRIFYING

Not gonna lie, Axca kinda felt like Black Widow in Civil War with the amount of side switching she did; I want to know her motives??? And the other Generals??? Please??? i want an episode dedicated to them that’d be so cool like them trying to start over and stuff

WHEN THEY ALL BONDED WITH THEIR LIONS THAT LINEUP SHOT WAS DOOOOOPE ngl I loved lance and keith next to each other that was such a cool shot of them and the whole team

also where did Matt go? He didn’t go back with his dad so I guess he was off on another rebel mission? idk maybe someone ask at a panel where he went

same with the Blades like I guess they were off doing other missions and didn’t bother to check in oops

tbh, this season was awesome. Did we get all the interactions we wanted? not really. Was it kind of battle heavy? yea. But was there serious character development? H E L L YES. Even though there were a lot of Keith and Shiro centered episodes the paladins screen time felt more balanced, at least to me. Even though most of Lance’s stuff was angst about Allura I still feel like he got to grow as a person from it and he’s starting to become someone who comforts others and really be there for the team. All we need now is for them to reciprocate and support him when he’s feeling down. I cannot wait to see what the crew has in store for us and I can’t wait for them to get back to earth it’s going to be so interesting!!!

#voltron spoilers #voltron s6 spoilers #vld spoilers #lance mcclain #keith kogane #takashi shirogane #pidge holt #hunk garrett #vld allura #vld coran #this was such a good season #like i know some people are throwing hissy fits about alluralance and that klance was kind of non-existent #but y'all #take off the shipping glasses and this show is gorgeous

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