A Little Something I like about Plance 3 - The Trilogy Nobody Asked For... 💚💙💚💙💚💙
💚💙 PART ONE 💚💙💚💙 PART TWO 💚💙
...meanwhile parts 6 & 7 of a fic still need finishing Bear...Get to it!
This started off a reply to this post from @cyangarden
In many ways, it still is. But I just went overboard so I decided to make it this as well.
PIDGE SHOULD TAKE THE LEAD!
The tldr? Plance with Lead Pidge Completes and echoes and possibly completes their character arcs...
“It seems that many are thinking that Lance would be the one making the first move on Pidge, buuuuuuuuuut…..”
“How about we imagine this: Pidge is the one making the first move towards Lance.”
@cyangarden - Visionary
“Bachoo! Bachoo! Bachoo!”
-Katie Holt, Impersonating a Laser - Adorable
Spoilers for Season 7 Follow. You have been warned.
I’m usually more of a fan of “convoluted spacey-timey shenanigans force them to confront their feelings simultaneously” at least in my fics. But honestly, the more I think on it... The more I think the idea of Pidge taking the initiative makes the most narrative sense in the canon and in the show.
Just thinking about how it turns the Lance/Pidge dynamic on it’s head.
Lance has spent the entire series being just a little or just a lot insecure depending on how you see it. He’s always been chasing after women - at least in part - as a means to invalidate his self doubt. Now, Lance has grown into a young man who doesn’t need outside support for his self worth and has matured in his approach to women.
Pidge - if we believe the interpretations of our little community - has been silently fuming and jealous of all Lance’s female interactions with everyone but her. She’s been obviously glad to see his Allura fantasy seemingly crumble. She will even - when season 7 airs - refer to Lance as cute in an off hand teasing manner early in episode one.
So, we have a young man who respects women more than he used to. Not seeing them as someone to pursue. Does that sound like someone who’ll make the first move...?
Pidge meanwhile has taken on the universe and won. She’s achieved her goals to find her Dad and Brother. We know from the trailer that she’s going to discard the name Pidge in front of everyone and be willingly, outwardly Katie. Does that sound like someone scared of saying “I like you?”
Or, to put it as Lance might...
...And now, we wait for Pidge to Pounce...
Clever Girl....
@mcclainetwork‘s Birthday Week for our favourite Blue Paladin, more than just a boy from Cuba to us all, continues! So does my contribution spanning the full seven days. A series of Fan Fictions covering each of the daily prompts. This one seems to have gone a little off the rails in a good way. Never thought I’d be writing from a Lion’s Pov. A part was also inspired by this post from the lovely @anchoredtether.
Be sure to check on the previous parts because, like Voltron, it’s all connected.
DAY 3 - Red
Those Whom I Have Homed
Running his hand over the almost impossibly smooth metal, Sam Holt smiled, his lips and grey beard curling to an awed smile. Somewhere between reverence and fear, the elder Holt looked cautiously into the gently glowing eyes of the Red Lion, finding only unexpected kindness therein. Amid the vast hangar, retrofitted hurriedly into the Pit-Stop of Lions, Sam sat. Machinery of coalition worlds without number were scattered, stacked and partially unpacked around his seat beside the Red Lion. Today alone had shown Sam such miraculous little wonders as the Olkari Echo Cube, Reiphodian gravitation webbing and the subtle nuance of pre-imperial Galra poetry as translated by an Altean linguistic scanner. He was sat amongst the kind of technology that most humans had only dreamed of, himself included. Cataloguing them as if they were mere odds and ends to be later used simply as tools, no more incredible than a pencil. Proof positive of alien life and of whole new branches of scientific enquiry were already gathering dust. Any one item would have been enough to make a career out of in any other context. Now though, the cerebral had to give way to practical. Still, when he had a spare moment, such as this, he took the chance to examine the most incredible of all the technology here. The Lions. Today, if only for not previously having tried, he had chosen to sit alongside Red.
“I still find it remarkable...” Sam's tone was peaceful, “The nature of this metal. The warmth of it, the sensation. It feels almost as though I'm holding my newborn children again. Like a heartbeat from the universe...”
“That's great and all, Sam!” Hunk called back, “But I'm about to...” His voice was drowned out by a loud clattering of boxes, their heaving mass bashing into the floor. Mercifully, none burst open. Though one was resting quite painfully upon Hunk's toes. The protection of his usual civilian garb offering not much in the way of defence. “Ok, just a tick too late there... Little help...?” Hunk asked with a heaving squeak of repressed pain.
Sam stood himself slowly, shaking his head, “Let the work set aside for a while, Hunk.” He smiled, even as Hunk busied himself tidying the boxes aside. “I know you've been trying to balance getting things ready here and organizing that party for your friend. Really, you should take a break for a little while.” Sam sat himself again beside Hunk on an overturned container.
Hunk sighed, setting himself heavy on nearby a box, “Well, you're not wrong. Between Coran and Pidge, I feel like I've been put through a marathon. Throw in building Earth's defences and I just want to sleep...” He made a grab for a small plastic tub, cracking open the pliable blue lid and offering it to Sam, “Free sample. Not my best work. New recipe I'm trying out with ingredients from across the coalition. I think the Nemdari Cinnamon is touch a touch too fizzy...”
Biting into the iced roll, Sam's response was a pleased hum, “It adds a little character.” He laughed softly, “Honestly these are superb. No need to be such a perfectionist, is there? Take the risk, bake something great!” He parodied his own favourite saying with a self congratulating laugh.
“Alright, if you say so...” Hunk smirked, glancing to a large array of hanging cables and cobbled together boxy looking devices. The entire odd assembly hung over the Red Lion's head, set upon a large set of mechanised rails. “Is that ready Commander Holt...? Still looks a little on the hodge-podge side...”
“Sam is fine, Hunk. You know that.” Commander Holt chastised just a touch, “And yes, Cadet Garret...” He teased, “I've just now put the last few touches on the scanning array. Had a little trouble getting the Galra and the Olkari systems talking first to each other and then to the Taujeerian systems.” He sighed, “But, in the end and now owing a favour, I got it working after all. Which reminds me, you know Harris from Tech? He needs a batch of muffins. I'll owe you instead.”
Hunk grumbled to himself, “Fine. I guess I'll be opening a Yellow Lion bakery when all this is over... If it's ever over...”
Sam nodded sadly, “If indeed.” He agreed. “Now, all that aside. I think it's time we set this scanner here in motion, don't you? See if we can't just possibly find something fascinating eh? Bound to be a little something within a part magic part science sentient being with a body made of a comet from outside the universe, right?”
Hunk agreed, following Sam to a nearby workstation with nothing but a laptop. “You sure this is going to cut it...?”
“One nano-millimetre of Red's structure. Just a proof of concept really. It may not do it superbly quickly, but it will certainly give us something to work with.” Sam looked to the scanner and nodded, “Alright!” He smiled, striking a key. “Here goes nothing.”
Strange energies awaken ancient memory.
“They are remarkable, my husband.” Her soft tone lost to the millennia, in my mind she speaks again. Beside her, unknowing what shall pass and hopeful for the future, My Paladin. “Even standing near them, it is as though... Reality bends to them...”
“It's not far from the truth.” My Paladin agrees. My Paladin knows. “Maybe it bends to them and recoils from them all at once.” His young eyes regard my young chassis. Much is yet to pass. Much is yet to be known. My Paladin, in my mind, lives once more. His absence is never far from me. His was a will that binds and guides. His was the power of hope and unity. His was the heart of the Five of Us. My Paladin. My Creator. My Lost Friend. He places a gentle palm to his queen and beloved. So often have I known My Paladin's mind, I feel their bond of quintessence as if we three were one. They have created another. “The Lions of Voltron will serve as the hope of the Universe. I want to give our son...”
“...or our daughter.” She corrects My Paladin.
“Our child.” My Paladin agrees. “The best possible future.” My Paladin shall never forge this future.
I am saddened that it is so.
My mind moves.
As it moves again it stays in motion. Yes! The thrill of battle fills me! I am among the stars. Cold metal shears beneath my might! A blade in the darkness cuts deep into the fray! I am pounced upon and spin, I fire forth such fury!! Another reduced to nothing and still, he calls out within. My Paladin. That he has rage I know well, that he focuses that anger I know well. That when I am wielded by him and he by me, there is nothing in this reality to stand before us. And the memory is good. The satisfaction at each fresh enemy reduced to atoms. The hunger for the battle, it always burns within him and so too in me.
My Paladin is uncomplicated. Yet, he is guarded. My Paladin seeks simplicity. In truth, much is hidden. In battle, he understands. In battle, there is nothing but his instincts to rely upon. Something perhaps of his other side that no other yet knows. Yet they shall in time. When he is my guide and I his champion, it is a deadly dance we weave and cleave upon the stars. My Paladin, he has so far to grow and yet so much skill already.
Again my mind moves.
We are as One. Our Paladins and Our Selves. One. Here in the moment, I feel him. Once my own, now Paladin to Black. A sword. Fresh forged. That was My Paladin. He is tempered now. Wisdom and time have quenched him. Raw power now a strong weapon. My Paladin. I trust you unto Black now. I know that you are ready.
We are as One. And we charge.
My mind moves on again.
He stands. So meek before me and unsure. My Paladin? This? It seems a joke at first. Then, I truly see. Even in my thousands of years, I trust too easily the surface. The mind of this boy is doubt and fear. But the spirit? Yes. The spirit, the quintessence. He is My Paladin. When we fly it is not always smooth. He always apologises for every bump. When we fight, it is not always elegant. But his heart is always in the right place. His motivation. His mind. His quintessence, pure. He has such love within him. Love enough to sacrifice his very self. I feel him pass again. My Creator's Last gift to the universe. She keeps giving still. She returns My Paladin to me. I feel him rise again.
Deep within him, unknown even to himself, he guides and inspires. There is greatness. Bound greatness, shackled only by self doubt. And then, there are such dreams. Across the gulf of space, as we journey to his home, his dreams fill me. Strange and wonderful. Family and Friends. Hope for a future free of war. The many faces and smiles he has loved and longed for and lost. My Paladin, Lance. He reminds me so much of My Paladin, Alfor. Neither of them acted in rage nor anger. They act in defiance of darkness. They act at the behest of the universe. They are not men of war, but guardians of peace. Such nobility and courage in them both. I am honoured to be and have been their Lion.
My mind moves and we are as One again.
We call upon the sword. She is nature's wrath and wielder of the shield. I am fire, creation and destruction alike, who bears the weight of the sword. Each of us have our place. We draw together. Closer. I feel her quintessence as if it were my own. Or it is perhaps my focus is only upon her. If feel her Paladin as though she were my own as she feels mine. My quintessence seeps into hers and hers to mine. We are One, yet we are distinct. We touch. For a moment, we are truly One. Or so it seems to me. As we draw apart, the blade ignites. I feel the ties of our quintessence grow taut and strained, yet always present. And for a moment, weaker, growing, reaching, threads tying ever closer, Our Paladins. I have no time to think on this. The Battle must be won once more. We are One and again we charge.
My mind moves to the now.
Yellow's Paladin is concerned. The creator of dear Green's Paladin stands expectantly. Another war approaches. Another front to ever more defend against the darkness. Somewhere else upon this world, I feel his quintessence. What he calls, his soul. His soul reaches out to mine and to one other strongest of all. Yet, it spreads further, like a web of threads combined. Such love to give and to share. So many to protect. And also, I feel it. The power to do so.
Perhaps, My Paladins and I will yet forge the future they dreamed for...?
The sound of the clicked key had barely faded.
“Well.” Sam waved his arm furiously, trying to waft away the smoke from the sparking laptop. Not long after the scan had begun, the poor quantum processors he had assumed fit to the task were now, to use the newest technical term, QUBAR. Quiznaked Utterly; Beyond Any Repair. “I was not expecting that. More than it could handle I suppose”
Hunk pulled a nearby extinguisher free, smothering the laptop in flame proof foam. “There wasn't even enough time to upload the data...” He ruminated, “I don't suppose Iverson would let us jack into something with a little more oomph, would he?”
“Most likely not.” Sam considered the base computer reduced to wreckage, “Most likely not...”
It was then that the older man's expression subtly changed in a way Hunk was not familiar with. As the two of them cleared away the remnants of the laptop, Hunk awaited something. Though he had no idea what.
“So Hunk, could you perhaps tell me a little about this friend of yours, Lance?” Sam asked in a very fatherly way. The kind of tone that suggested he was very concerned really, but wanted to appear unconcerned, “Didn't really get a lot of chance to talk with him back on the castle, you see. But ever since my little girl came home, well, his name seems to keep cropping up a lot. Excited about a party for Lance, wanting to meet Lance's family. Deciding who gets to keep her and Lance's adopted child she said... Thankfully she was just talking about Kaltenecker. Gave me a little fright, honestly... There was talk about who keeps the games console and on what alternating days they'd trade, who'd host game nights. Talking with Colleen about picking out the right dress for the evening. Things like that. Gets the old noggin joggin' as they used to say.”
Hunk could feel his stomach squirm as he nodded, offering only a nervous, “Mmmhmmm...” In response.
“They must be very good friends, is what I would assume.” Sam nodded, “Though, I wonder... As a concerned parent might, you know? I'm probably being over analytical aren't I? But is he a good man? Good head on his shoulders? I'm sure he must be, right?”
Hunk fell into silence as he carefully considered his next words. He could already see himself setting hours aside for baking, this was going to be an even worse interrogation than Iverson's debriefing. “Could my favour be not having this conversation...?”
Sam smiled kindly. Then shook his head.
Red, sat silent and ever patient, returned to his thoughts once again.
