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Technically speaking, if we don't count Shiro, was Pidge the first Paladin to kill a non-sentry, fully sentient Galra?
I’m talking about s1e5, where she was near that giant energy in the Castle of Lions, and that Galra soldier fell down while she was fighting him. Though technically, maybe it shouldn't count as a direct kill, but rather her being the first to “witness a death” ? And again then, who in this case was the first to kill someone?
not so friendly reminder that pidge was 14 or so
Pidge stares hard at her twisted fingers. Her eyes have long since begun to burn, and she holds her face carefully parallel to the floor, knees presses to the sides of her head, watching as her vision gets blurrier and heavier, until eventually the tear drops from her eyes and splatters on her glasses.
“How did you handle it?” she asks hoarsely, not even looking up. “The homesickness.”
For a while Lance doesn’t say anything. His breathing is steady and near-silent, quick little inhales and long, shallow exhales. Practiced breathing, when he’s choking back tears. He does it several times a day. Sometimes Pidge can’t stand to look at him. She doesn’t understand where he puts it all, the sadness that is constantly bubbling out of him. Doesn’t understand where he finds the strength to let his voice get choked up in the middle of a sentence and keep going like there’s nothing wrong. She feels hot shame heat up her own body, in the clear absence of his; a secondhand embarrassment at emotion that shouldn’t be advertised so easily, so trustingly, so constantly.
Eventually he sighs. When Pidge looks up there are tears in his brown eyes, as there so often are, but she fights the urge to look away and tucks herself under his open arm, instead.
It’s warm, in his hold. Bony too. But he holds her without fear of squeezing too tightly, winds his long arm around her back and shoulders and presses her face into his neck. He smells, as he always does, of flowers, although Pidge could not identify what kinds, and she imagines that she’s sat under the rows and rows of shelves in her mother’s greenhouse, watching her work. Her hands shake so she winds them around the creases of Lance’s jacket and grips tightly.
“I don’t,” he says after thinking about it. “I carry it with me. I always have.”
Pidge thinks she knew that, in her bones. She thinks she understood that about Lance from the very second she first saw him, two years ago at the Garrison auditorium in September; this boy who slouched and grinned and shot finger guns and laughed like a hyena and cried four times a day. The boy whose eyes were deep and dark and filled with an abyssal pain that hurts to look at. Off-putting.
“That sounds lonely.”
Lance hums. He shifts, resting his chin on the top of her head. She feels the slow drip of his tears, down his nose and plopping onto her scalp, and parcels at how his heartbeat doesn’t change, the ease in his voice. The shaky steel of it.
“It is. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t. Lonely. It’s just something I carry.”
Her breath shudders out of her, big and large and shaking her shoulders. She hears what he doesn’t say: I have gotten used to it. She thinks to herself: I will never get used to this weight.
She says: “I don’t understand.”
Ever so slowly, he begins to rock them back and forth, barest sway of their bodies. His lips press her hairline. Her face crumples and her breathing quickens as she forces down the tears, shoves back the mirroring feeling, the mixing of Lance and Matt happening in her head.
“When I was four my oldest brother moved away. He was getting married. I never got over that, I don’t think. He lived down the street longer than he lived down the hall but I never really stopped missing him.”
He pauses for a moment, and Pidge knows it’s deliberate in the way his whole body stops moving, pondering, before starting again.
“Sometimes I miss him on purpose.”
Pidge pulls away, enough to look him in the face, to watch his sad eyes and slight smile and the familiarity in the uncanny expression, the Lance of it.
“Why?” she asks desperately, hands twisting further in his sleeves. “Why would you ever — on purpose?”
“Because I love him on purpose.” The tears drip down Lance’s face as a steady waterfall and he doesn’t even flinch at them, doesn’t even blink. Lets his eyes fill and spill over again and again like cupped hands under a leaking faucet. “When I miss my mom I love her. When I miss my sister I love her. When I miss my brother I love him. When I miss Keith I love him. When I miss you, I love you.” He gently pulls his sleeves away from her clutched fingers, wrapping his hands around them instead and squeezing. “The grief hurts like a never healing wound. But I’m terrified of not having that. I don’t want to wake up one day without the reminder of how deeply I’ve loved and how deeply it will always be a part of me, that love. I don’t know how I’d ever function without it.”
“You don’t function with it,” Pidge argues. “It — haunts you. I see it in your face.”
Lance shrugs. “I function with it. I function because of it. Every day that I miss them I live because I will miss them until I see them again. It’s an — anticipation, almost. I miss you and I can’t wait to see you again mean the same thing.”
A strange noise bursts out from Pidge’s throat, gut-punching. I miss you and I can’t wait to see you again mean the same thing.
She misses her brother in her bones. Her father in her blood. Her mother in her heart.
Waiting to see them again pulses at every level in her body. That’s — manageable.
“Oh,” she says, and she means oh, in the way you blink your eyes open in the mornings. Oh, I see now. Oh, that hurts. Oh, it’s bright.
Lance squeezes her hands again. “There are worse things than loving so much it hurts you,” he says softly.
“Oh,” Pidge says again. “Oh.”
Unlock this Fanfiction: Where/What/Who You're Meant to Be
Welp, I'm not feeling overly confident we're going to unlock anymore than we have for this charity drive and my final fanfictions, but I'll post a few more fic summaries and snippets just in case. Here's hoping 🤞😭
Want to read this fanfiction? Check out my Whumpy (But Hurt Comforty) Donation Drive to find out how this story (and others) can be unlocked! Every little bit helps support amazing organizations and you get to read my final fanfictions!
Where/What/Who You're Meant to Be
(10k fic!)
Summary: Pidge knows all too well there are some beyond sick, twisted people out in the universe who will do inhumane things in the name of science and think the end justifies the means. Now Pidge is about to see that depravity firsthand as she’s specifically targeted for an experiment that aims to transform her from a human into some sort of alien hybrid. And as a first time experiment, there’s no knowing what the outcome will be…
Story snippet:
“Then,” and her voice sounded high, higher than it should be but God, God, had they attacked that planet just to lure Voltron so they could kidnap her?, “then you know I’m a Paladin of Voltron. And—”
Naziyl waved a pincer. “The war concerns me not, Paladin Pidge. I am merely here to serve my purpose to gather all that is to be known in the universe and so,” he smiled at her, “it is time to begin. I encourage you not to struggle as you will only hurt yourself more.”
And saying so he pulled a syringe out of his jacket pocket and balancing it on one pincer used another to pull out a case containing very large needles.
Holy fuck.
Holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck.
“You’re fucking crazy,” Pidge snarled as he stepped towards her.
“And as I said to you before,” Naziyl maintained his smile as he affixed the needle to the syringe and angled it towards her arm that went nowhere even as she strained and pulled at the cuff, heart pounding in her ears and no, no no, God no, “your opinion matters not.”
One pincer came down trace her skin, pinching to reveal her vein, dark purple beneath her skin and the fact they knew where to find human veins, how easily, made her feel sick.
Sick and angry.
“Don’t you fucking d—”
Pidge screamed as the needle plunged with no care into her arm and she screamed again as her jerk against the manacles sent the needle shifting inside her arm.
“Silly girl,” Naziyl shook his head as he affixed a vial to the syringe. “I told you not to move.”
He continued to draw blood, filling up one vial, then another, and then another.
Pidge felt herself listing sideways at vial five and God, how much blood was he taking?
“There, all done,” he smiled at her several minutes later as she stared up at him, feeling dizzy and tongue thick and nausea building it her stomach. “It will be just a few varga for me to run the compatibility module to determine what will be the best fit for your metamorphosis and show me what you are truly meant to be. Do sit tight, Paladin Pidge, and I will return soon.”
Pidge couldn’t get her mouth to cooperate to say anything, slumped in the chair and arm aching and heart aching more.
How…
She stared silently as the door closed behind the Norian.
How the fuck did she get out of this?
Pt 1
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Keith doesn't find out for a while. It slips his mind briefly when Shiro disappears. He doesn't have the time to think about it. Not when he's trying to find his brother.
He's reminded after Black chooses him.
"I can't be the leader. I- I'm not-"
"Keith," Lance says. He puts his hand on Keith's shoulder. It's comforting, distracting him from his tears enough that he doesn't immediately start to cry.
Keith looks up at Lance and into his eyes. They were brown this time. A deep, rich brown, like the earth after rain, with flecks of gold in them. Keith thinks that he likes Lance's eyes when they're brown, not blue.
"The black lion has chosen you to be its Paladin. I respect it's choice, and you should too," Lance tells him. Keith nods, unable to say anything because he truly thinks that he'll cry.
Keith can feel Red and Black in his mind. Black is much calmer than Red, who often burned like fire did.
She was saying goodbye, that she enjoyed having him as her Paladin but that he was truly meant to be Black's Paladin instead. Red's fire slowly disappeared, leaving him with Black, who pressed comfort into his mind.
Everyone separates after they congratulate Keith on the promotion, each person going to do what they need to do. Keith goes to the training deck, needing something to keep him occupied.
He takes down bot after bot, not caring about how long it's been, loosing himself in the comfort of being able to take out his frustration and anger on something that wasn't alive, but that he could still cut down without mercy.
Shiro wasn't there to stop him, to remind him to take care of himself, so he continued to train.
"End simulation." The program obeyed the voice. Keith turned to glare at the person who had cut his training short, only to be met with Lance standing there, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.
"What do you want, Lance?" He asked. Lance was silent for a few ticks.
"You need to take a break," he simply said when he did speak. Keith rolled his eyes.
"As if I need you to mother hen me," Keith snapped. Lance just sighed.
"Your movements have been getting slower, so has your reaction time," he pointed out.
"So?"
"So, knowing you, you've been training non-stop for hours without a break, and I now have to drag you out of here kicking and screaming, so that you can shower and eat." Keith scowled.
"I'm fine," he insisted. When was Lance so observant of him?
Another sigh from Lance.
"Please, Keith. You're our leader, now, you need to be well rested so that you can carry out leader duties," Lace reasoned. Keith's Bayard changed from a sword to its simplest form.
"I never asked to be the leader. I can't... I can't lead you guys like Shiro," he said. The admission had him turning away from Lance, staring at the floor. He hadn't meant to tell Lance that, but there was something about Lance that made Keith feel comfortable enough to open up to him.
"Keith," Lance said. A hand came to rest on his back, gentle and comforting. "The point isn't to be a leader like Shiro was. The point is to step up and fill your role, even if you don't want it. Black chose you. If she didn't think that you could lead us, then she would have chosen someone else, like Allura."
"I just... This is the second time, Lance. The second time I've lost my brother. I- my mom left me when I was a baby, and then my dad died and I was left alone in the fucking foster system, then I met Shiro and he decided to give me a chance, and then I lost him when he left for Kerberos and- it hurts." The last two words were quiet. Keith realised bleakly that there were tears on his face.
Lance pulled him in for a hug.
Keith held onto him like he was his lifeline, the only thing keeping him tethered in the endless expanse of space.
"Pidge knows how you feel," Lance reminded him when he'd calmed down enough. Keith just nodded.
He left the training room behind. When he showered, he just stood there, under the water, feeling numb while Black pressed comfort into his mind. He went through the motions as if he were a robot, washing his hair, his body, and then stepping out and drying himself and getting dressed.
He didn't have anything to do, so he just... Walked. He didn't have anywhere he needed to be, so he just walked.
He ended up finding Pidge sitting in Green's hangar, typing away on something.
"Hey, Pidge," he said.
"Hey, Keith," she replied. She continued to do whatever it was she was doing.
"Mind if I sit here?"
"Go ahead, as long as you're not going to annoy me like Lance does." Keith gave a small smile at that and sat on the floor near Pidge. They were silent for a while. "It sucks, doesn't it?" She asked randomly.
"What does?"
"Shiro," came the reply. Easy and simple. Keith nodded.
"Yeah. He's... He's my brother, and this is the second time I've lost him," he told her. Pidge stood up and sat on the floor with Keith, resting her head on his shoulder. Keith rested his head on hers.
"It sucks so, so much. I just- I just want to find them. Matt and Dad." Keith understood what Lance was getting at earlier.
Go talk to someone who knows your pain, who can sympathize with you.
Keith wrapped an arm around the youngest of the group and hugged her.
"We'll find them. All of them. Shiro, Matt, your dad. We'll find them, we'll bring peace to the universe, and then we can go home and just live our lives," Keith said.
"I hope you're right." Pidge curled up further into Keith's side.
He hoped so too.
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Pt 3
so im upset. why is it that when i look up Pidge Angst, i only get ships and other paladins angst? why is that? is pidge not good enough for angst? like cmon.
pidge never wanted to become a voltron paladin and save the universe. she did it, she obliged to every responsibility she had to, she solved every problem necessary and learned how to fight for the sole reason of seeing her family. she hid her identity and cut her hair and went up on rooftops to search the stars every single night just to get her brother back. just to stay up and map constellations with him one more time. just to argue and banter with him one more time.
the only thing pidge holt ever wanted was to be with her loved ones. she went to the end of the universe to reunite them. she’s written off as the sarcastic, dry, terrible humored green paladin, but she holds an incredible amount of love in her heart.
The Pidge Angst Bang 2021 has officially come to an end! All bangs are officially up, so please use this page as a tool to go visit everyone’s wonderful work and give them the comments, likes, and shares they deserve! Congratulations to everyone who participated!
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