#platonicvldweek

[singlesockdrawer]

Platonic vld week day 1: pranks / tricks

they’re so talented!

[dejavidetc]

platonic vld week - Day 7 (Apr 07): Bloom / Decay

[eastofthemoon]

Wrote a fic for @platonicvldweek for today’s theme of Lion/Lamb.  Hope you all like this!

Title: A Roaring Good Time

Rating: G

Series: Voltron Legendary Defender

Summary: Turns out, in other realities, the paladins use a different kind of robot from the lions.

“So your robots...are giant sheep?”

Lance saw the other him twitch an eye.  “They’re not sheep!  They’re rams!  RAMS!”  He pointed rather hotly at the head of his robot.  “See the horns!”

“That’s still a sheep, dude,” Lance commented dryly.

This was turning into a weird day.  Granted, at least this reality didn’t have evil Alteans out to conquer the universe.  Plus, these other versions of him and his team seem to be nice and sane.  Frankly, as far as Lance could tell, there were no glaring differences between themselves and their doubles.  Lance had began to wonder what exactly made this reality so different from their own...until he set his eyes upon the five giant robot sheep that now sat before them.

Lance would still take this over the brainwashing Alteans though.

The other Lance crossed his arms.  “Yeah, well, would you take a ram on in a fight?” He smirked with an all knowing smile.  “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“I also wouldn’t pick a fight with a swan,” Lance said as he crossed his arms, “that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be goofy looking to have a giant robot swan.”

Keith sucked the air between his teeth.  “Yeah..I actually agree with Lance on this one.”

The other Keith looked tempted to argue, but then shrugged.  “He’s not wrong.”

“Hey!” the other Lance snapped.  “You’re supposed to be on my side here!”

“Alright, alright,” Shiro stated as he raised his hand.  “There’s no need to fight.”

“Agreed,” said the other Shiro as he crossed his arms.  “Even if our robots are different, I’m sure they work the same way.”

Hunk seemed doubtful as he glanced to the other Hunk.  “Just curious, but...can you use your robot ram to headbutt?”

The other Hunk blinked and raised an eyebrow.  “Yeah...wait,” he pointed to the Yellow Lion.  “Do you use yours to headbutt?!”

“Dude, all the time,” Hunk stated rather proudly.

“But yours doesn’t even have horns?” the other Hunk said in a curious tone.  “How much damage can it cause?”

“Quite a bit,” Hunk rambled as he eyed the Yellow Ram, “but I am wondering if the horns let you do more when you attack.”

Both of the Hunks exchanged a silent look.

“Clearly, we need to test this theory,” said the other Hunk.

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Hunk said as he raised a hand.  “For science!”

Lance and his double swiftly forgot their annoyance and grinned madly.  “Yes! Robot headbutting contest!” they cheered in unison.

“This should be fun,” Pidge said.

“Although,” said the other Pidge as she grasped her chin, “we’re going to need to find a good spot big enough for this.”

Keith looked to his double and smiled.  “Bet our Hunk beats yours.”

The other Keith smirked back.  “No way, it’ll be our Hunk and his ram-”

“We’re not testing out which robot can headbutt better,” both of the Shiros said in unison and then paused as they blinked at each other.

“Whoa,” Pidge said as she blew out a whistle, “that’s a bit freaky.”  

The other Pidge nodded and poked Pidge’s arm.  “So, who buys the soda in this case?”

Hunk seemed to ignore the question as he looked to the Shiros.  “Why?” Hunk said and grinned to his double like he was reading his mind.  “Because it would be a baa idea?”

Silence followed and was briskly broken by a series of groans and moans.

“Ow!” exclaimed Lance as he held his head like it was in pain.

“That was bad!” yelled the double Pidge.

“Hey, come on,” said the other Hunk, “it’s not like we pulled the wool over your eyes!”

“Stop,” Keith pleaded as he rubbed his eyes, “please, stop.”

“We can’t help it,” said Hunk as he snickered, “We’re just ramming into these jokes.”

“Oooh!” the second Hunk exclaimed as he raised his hand for a high five and Hunk obliged.  “Good one!”

“I take it back,” Lance said sourly, “this is the worst reality ever..of all time.” 

[swordandquill]

Platonic VLD Week: AU

Notes: Something slightly fluffier for day 6 (also really late). From the A Wing and a Prayer, wing au. The rest of platonic week is here.

“So you’re who’s been pilfering all the pillows.”

Lance yelped, his wings flaring out for balance and his armload of pillows and blankets falling to the floor.

“Don’t scare me like that,” Lance put a hand to his chest, all his feathers puffed out like a dandelion in seed.

“I was wondering where all the linens were going,” Coran reached down to help him start picking up pillows, “I thought for sure it was the mice again.”

“No,” Lance shook his head, wings fluttering nervously, “just me. Well, maybe not just me. The others might be taking some for their nests too. Well, probably not Hunk, since he’s mostly happy with whatever I do with our nest, and Pidge barely sleeps, and who knows what Keith does; he probably sleeps in his clothes like a weirdo, but…”

“Nesting,” Coran said thoughtfully, as he folded the blankets that had fallen “fascinating. We once had a delegation from Cunicularia. Lovely feathers, but they didn’t fly. Instead, they burrowed. We had to rearrange an entire wing of the castle and add three meters of soil.”

“That sounds dusty,” Lance accepted the blankets back.

“Quite,” Coran gathered up the pillows, piling a few of them on the pile of blankets in Lance’s arms, “we were cleaning dirt out of the air filters for phoebs. Do you want some help carrying these?”

“Is that okay?” Lance asked tentatively.

“I’m not so old that I can’t carry a few pillows,” Coran huffed.

“Not that,” Lance grinned at him, “is it okay that I’m taking so much stuff?”

“Of course,” Coran turned on his heels, leading the way to Lance’s room, “the Castle is more than capable of providing for upward of a thousand people. Surely we have enough pillows and blankets for five.”

“You have enough pillows for a thousand people,” Lance murmured in awe, “how big would it be if we piled them all together?”

“Too big to fit in your room, I would think,” Coran’s mustache twitched slightly in amusement.

“I have to tell Hunk,” Lance murmured to himself.

Coran stepped into Lance’s room, careful not to step on any of the blankets or pillows already scattered around the room. He couldn’t make out any pattern to their placement, but he knew some species were quite particular about their space.

“Where would you like these?” Coran asked.

“Anywhere,” Lance dropped his arm load onto the two mattresses pushed together on the floor, “thanks for the help.”

Coran set his armload on the empty bed platform and looked around the room thoughtfully. With the two mattresses on the floor it was rather cramped, but the pictures stuck to the wall and the scattered odds and ends on the floor gave the room a homey feel.

“There’s a species in the the Parmilium system that creates marvelous hanging nests from nothing but reeds and their own spit,” Coran cocked his head to the side.

“Ew,” Lance sat down in the middle of the mattresses, stretching his wings, then folding them neatly along his back.

“A bit smelly,” Coran sat down on the bed platform, “impressive though. They were only seven or eight centimeters big, and they built structures large enough for visiting Altean dignitaries without the need to shape-shift.”

“Can you grow wings?” Lance looked up from tossing pillows down towards one end of the mattresses and blankets to the other.

“No,” Coran laughed, “but wouldn’t that be something. I supposed a really talented shifter could sprout feathers. I should make Allura practice that; it would be a good exercise for her, but she’s already has so many things she’s trying to learn…”

Coran trailed off, feeling a twinge of sadness. At Allura’s age, she should have been just starting to take on court responsibilities, not leading a guerrilla war against a 10,000 year old evil empire.

“Coran?”

Coran blinked and found Lance had scooted across the mattress to sit at his feet and was looking up at him with concern.

“Well, we all must adapt,” Coran reached down and patted Lance’s shoulder, “you paladins are doing so splendidly.”

“It doesn’t feel that way most of the time,” Lance slumped against his leg, resting his head on his knee.

Coran studied him for a moment, then began running his fingers through Lance’s hair. Lance rested contently against him for a few minutes before suddenly blinking and straightening.

“Sorry,” Lance’s wings shifted, his feathers fluffing out a bit before settling, “you and Allura have had to deal with way more than us. We all wanted to go to space after all.”

Coran huffed and rumbled Lance’s hair hard enough to make him duck.

“Perspective is a valuable thing, but hardship isn’t a competition,” Coran flicked his nose, “I doubt any of you were expecting to be embroiled in an ancient intergalactic war.”

“Not so much,” Lance rubbed his nose .

“Nor did we, and I can tell you it was quite a shock,” Coran folded his arms grumpily, “but there’s nothing to be done about it now. We just have to keep moving forward and do our best to make sure the end of our world isn’t the end of everyone elses.”

“We’ll help,” Lance leaned his head back against Coran’s knee, “or at least, we’ll try.”

“You’re doing wonderfully,” Coran went back to running his fingers through Lance’s hair.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, Lance’s wings relaxing and puffing up slightly as they did when someone was preening them. Coran would have liked to have learned how to properly preen the paladins’ wings, but he was still feeling out how intimate an action it was, and how appropriate it would be for him to ask. Lance seemed content enough for now to have his hair stroked though.

“Coran?” Lance tentatively broke the calm.

Coran hummed in response.

“If we did want to pile up a thousand people worth of pillows…?”

“Oh, the ballroom for sure,” Coran grinned cheerfully, “and the back wall is excellent for projecting movies onto, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

“Coran, you’re amazing,” Lance sighed happily.

[vld-space-bbys]

Help me Lotor, you're my only ho(mie)

(basically a season 5 preview brought to you by Neo Yokio)

[platonicvldweek]

New Year, New Week, Same Idea!

Welcome back to #PlatonicVLDWeek, 2018 edition! A time to celebrate all the friendships and other non-romantic relationships in Voltron

The next week is coming up, April 1st - 7th, and this time we’re shaking things up a little by introducing an overarching theme for the whole week: SPRING 💐☀️🌱

What does this new theme mean??

Having an overarching theme doesn’t change much in terms of how the week will run, it simply gives a common idea to link together all the prompts if people wish! People are welcome to base all their works for the week around the concept of springtime, just as they are welcome to disregard that and do their own thing

What are the prompts for Spring Week?

Good question! Here they are

Day 1 (Apr 01): Pranks / Tricks

Day 2 (Apr 02): Lion / Lamb

Day 3 (Apr 03): Colour / Darkness

Day 4 (Apr 04): Individual / Group

Day 5 (Apr 05): Rain / Sun

Day 6 (Apr 06): AU / Free / Recycle

Day 7 (Apr 07): Bloom / Decay

What are the rules?

The same as they’ve always been, namely

All types of posts are accepted (fanart, fanfiction, headcanons, gifsets, moodboards, edits, videos, playlists, etc.)

You are not obligated to use the prompts listed if you don’t want, nor do you have to make content for every day of the week. Do as much or as little as you want! Late submissions will also be accepted

Tag everything with #platonicvldweek within the first 5 tags so I’ll see it! If you do not wish to post your work on your own blog you may submit it directly to this blog using the submit button on the left of the screen

It is also suggested (though not critical) to tag which day you’re posting for

Please no NSFW as this is an all ages welcome event. Things like partial nudity and some blood/injuries and such are ok, but no porn or heavy gore will be reblogged here even if it’s tagged. If you’re unsure what falls under the NSFW umbrella don’t hesitate to shoot me an ask! Thank you for your cooperation

If anything is unclear or you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask!

And most importantly, HAVE FUN!! :D

[bosstoaster]

Remember Me as Devout

Summary: The Black Lion comes to Ryou with a request. Ryou has some questions.

IMPORTANT NOTE: If you haven't read this original fic and the follow-up fics, you will be very confused. So go do that first.  Also part of Don't Let's Start.   

 o summarize: The lions can 'pilot' their paladins in times of emergency, essentially possessing them. Shiro has done this multiple times, mostly for silly reasons.

Written for @platonicvldweek day 2: Lion

Immediately, Ryou straightened and kicked off his covers. “What’s wrong with Shiro? Will he not wake up?”

Black frowned and stepped forward. “That is not the case. Please, do not be loud. I do not wish for my paladin to wake.”

It took Ryou a long moment to realize the implications of that. Then his fingers dug into his covers, as his whole body went stiff. “Shiro doesn’t know you’re doing this?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“If he knew, he would try and stop me.”

Eyes cold, Ryou looked the Black Lion over. Then he slowly pulled his lips back in a snarl. “You have five seconds to explain before I start screaming his name.”

Black frowned back. “Do no such thing.”

“Stop me.”

[this-book-has-been-loved]

Blood and Water

For @platonicvldweek​ Day 4: Individual/Group

Keith, unsure what to do regarding the sudden appearance of his mother, turns to the only family he's ever really known

Read it on Ao3 | Read it on FFN

Keith piloted the Galran fighter back to the Blade of Marmora base with ease. He’d gotten used to navigating between the black holes and the blue star, until he could do it with almost no trouble.

That didn’t help ease the tension of the flight this time around.

After Krolia—his mom—had dropped her bombshell, the flight back had been quiet, uncomfortably so. His head had been swimming with questions that he’d wanted to know the answers to, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask even a single one.

Krolia seemed to respect his decision not to talk, and didn’t push him.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Landing back at the Marmora HQ was a relief. Watching as the last chances of private conversation left, as other Blade members filed into the hangar, Keith sighed. “Alright,” he said flatly, standing up forcefully. “We’re here.”

“Keith—” Krolia started.

“Don’t,” he cut her off. “Not now.” And with that, he strode off the aircraft to meet Kolivan’s cold gaze.

The Marmoran commander was waiting for them just beyond the exit ramp, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. A masked Blade stood behind him at each shoulder.

“Keith,” Kolivan barked. “Report.”

Keith stood up a bit straighter, his military training from the Garrison kicking in. “Operative located and retrieved, as ordered.”

“And the weapon? Were you able to destroy it?”

Keith looked down at his feet. “No, sir.”

“No? And why’s that?”

“I’m afraid that’s my fault, sir,” Krolia interjected. She glanced quickly at Keith, but he kept his gaze stubbornly fixated on the ground. “Perhaps if we could debrief in a more private setting—”

But Kolivan’s attention was fixated firmly on the smaller Blade before him. “This was a high stakes mission, Keith,” Kolivan reprimanded. “I told you not to let your emotions get the best of you.”

“Then maybe I wasn’t the right person to send,” Keith muttered, pushing past him.

“Keith!”

But no one made a move to stop him, and he stormed from the hangar without pause.

Would Krolia stand up for him? He pushed the thought from his head. He didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure if he even cared.

He went straight to his room—barrack, really—closing the door behind him and slumping heavily onto his bed. He leaned forward, resting his head in his hands, trying to steady his breathing.

His mom.

He’d just met his mom.

The Mom who he’d never really known, who’d left him and his dad earlier than he can remember, who he had always distantly wondered about—why did she leave? Didn’t she love me? Didn’t she care at all?

Once he’d learned he was Galra, that had opened a whole new wave of questions. Knowledge or death, they’d said. But he came out of those trials with more questions than answers.

The silence was too loud.

Normally, he liked the quiet. But now, alone with his thoughts, he needed some noise, needed some distraction, needed to talk to someone, needed—

He needed Shiro.

Keith had a private communicator. He didn’t use it very much, but he did have one. There were a lot of times since leaving Team Voltron that he’d held it in his hands, barely resisting the urge to call.

But tonight, he gave in.

It took maybe ten ticks for Shiro to answer. Not long, but long enough that Keith considered canceling the call before it even went through.

“Keith?” Shiro’s face filled the screen, immediately on guard. “Is everything okay?”

Keith paused. No, not really. But he couldn’t just say that, couldn’t bring himself to admit it. “Yeah,” he forced. “Just wanted to talk.”

“Ah, Keith!” another voice shouted, and Coran popped into the viewscreen. “It’s good to hear from you!”

Shiro adjusted the angle of the transmission feed so it could better capture both him and Coran, and Keith was greeted with a view of their surroundings. Sleek gray walls, harsh purple lighting, what looked like a computer console in the back, displaying a bright pink screen—

“Where are you guys?”

“Galra high command!” Coran chirped back. “Quite the exciting excursion.”

“Lotor invited us as a show of diplomacy,” Shiro explained. “Coran and I wanted to take a look at their records room, cross-reference current fleet movement with our own charts.

“Everyone else is on the base too,” Coran added. “Should we tell them you’re on the line? I’m sure they’d all love to talk to you.”

“No, that’s fine,” Keith stammered. “I just….”

Shiro furrowed his brow. “Are you sure everything’s alright?”

“Takashi, I….”

It was the use of his first name that got to Shiro. His face tightened, and he turned over his shoulder to address the other person in the room. “Coran, I’m going to take the rest of this call in the other room, okay?”

“Sounds good, number one,” Coran replied. “And Keith?” The Altean gazed at him through the comms screen with a gentle smile. “You let me know if you need anything, alright?”

Keith relaxed ever-so-slightly. “Thanks, Coran.”

The angle of the vidfeed changed as Shiro left the room he was in, stepping through a door into one that seemed much smaller and emptier.

When the door slid closed, Shiro looked intently at Keith, frowning ever-so-slightly. “What’s wrong?” he asked, gentle yet firm. When Keith didn’t respond, Shiro pressed further. “Keith, it’s clear there’s something on your mind,” he said. “I know that things have been rough these past few...well, months. But you know you can talk to me, right?”

“Yeah,” Keith whispered. “I know.” There was a long pause, then he took a deep breath. “I just got back from a mission, and….”

“Did something happen? Like what happened with Regris? Keith, I’m sor—”

“It was a solo mission,” Keith responded absently. “Nothing like that. I was just sent to meet another operative, and she—” His voice broke off, and he took a shuddering breath. “Shiro, I just met my mom.”

He was met by silence.

“Your mom?” Shiro eventually echoed, his eyes wide in shock.

“Yeah,” Keith rasped, closing his eyes tight.

Shiro was quiet for a long moment, mulling that over. “And how do you feel about that?”

“I—I don’t know,” Keith said, running a hand through his hair. “Anxious, mostly? I mean, I’ve always wanted to know who my mom is, but now that I actually found her….” He sighed, his hand moving from his hair to cover his face. “I don’t know.”

“Well, that’s understandable,” Shiro assured him. “This is an stressful situation that just popped up; it makes sense to not know how you feel about it. Let me ask this: how do you want to feel about it?”

“I—” He fumbled for words. “I mean, I guess I want to be happy that I finally met my mom. But…I’m angry. I’m angry that it took this long.” He clenched his fists. “She left me.”

“Maybe she had a good reason.”

Keith looked up sharply. “What reason could be ‘good’ enough to warrant this?” he demanded. “Abandoning your own child—”

Shiro held up his hand in surrender. “I don’t know, Keith. That seems like something you would need to ask her.”

Another long silence.

“Have you talked to her at all?” Shiro asked. “About this?”

“Not really,” Keith confessed.

“Do you want to?”

He shrugged listlessly.

“Okay. What’s stopping you?”

“I don’t know how to be a family!” Keith exclaimed. “I didn’t get to grow up in a loving family like I was supposed to. I had a mom I couldn’t remember, and a dad who disappeared when I was barely old enough for grade school.” He choked back a sob. “Shiro, you’re the closest thing to a family I’ve ever really known, and—” He broke off.

“Keith,” Shiro said gently. “Keith, you’re like a brother to me.” Keith looked up, his breath catching at the familiarity of those words. “And if it’s any consolation, I think you’re the best little brother I could have asked for. There’s no one I’d rather have by my side.”

The boy took a shuddering breath, his voice hitching. “Shiro—”

“You want my advice?” Wordlessly, Keith nodded. “I think you should talk to your mom.”

“Krolia,” he said numbly. “Her name is Krolia.”

“Krolia,” Shiro repeated. “I think you should talk to Krolia.” Keith was silent, and Shiro pursed his lips. “Or I could try talking to her, if you’d prefer,” he offered.

Keith managed a strained laugh. “Somehow, I can only imagine that ending in disaster,” he said. “But thanks.”

“I’ll keep my distance, then,” he said, eyes twinkling. “Though I would like to meet her at some point, if that’s alright with you.”

“Yeah,” Keith said. “I’m sure you’ll get the chance sooner or later.”

Shiro opened his mouth to say something else when the door behind him slid open. “Ah, Shiro?” Coran called, popping his head into the room. “Sentry arrived with a message for you.”

Shiro frowned, turning towards the doorway. “What happened?”

“Apparently, Lance and Pidge and Hunk caused a bit of a disturbance. Something about the robeast coffin?”

“What did those three…?” He broke off, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, I’ll be right there.” When Coran ducked back out of the room, he sighed heavily. “Keith, I’m gonna have to go, I need to track down our wayward paladins.”

Despite everything, Keith cracked a smile. “Right,” he said. “Good luck with that.”

“And you’re always welcome to come back to the castle at any point,” Shiro reminded him. “Coran wasn’t kidding when he said that everyone would be happy to see you. We miss you.”

“I miss you guys too,” Keith said with a smile.

“It’s okay to break sometimes,” Shiro continued. “God knows I definitely have. You don’t need to be the stoic lone wolf. We’re always here if you need us.”

“I know,” Keith said. “Thanks, Shiro.”

“Of course,” Shiro replied. “Anytime.”

“Oh, and Shiro?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t tell the rest of the team yet,” he requested, eyes pleading. “I want to tell them myself.”

Shiro smiled warmly. “Of course. Whenever you’re ready.”

And with that, the call ended.

Keith took a deep breath, focusing his thoughts, then exhaled in a long rush of air. “Okay,” he told himself. “Okay. Here we go.”

He stood up and went over to the door, pressing his palm against the handpad to open it. The door slid open with a hiss, and he nearly ran smack into Krolia.

She stood with one hand raised as though about to knock, and their startled eyes locked onto each other. “Keith,” she said, a bit taken aback, slowly lowering her hand. “I don’t mean to intrude….”

“No, I was just about to go try and find you,” he admitted. Her expression morphed into one of shock, and Keith steeled himself. He stepped aside, leaving the threshold empty. “Do...do you want to come inside?”