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Let's go lads!!!!
#either i did not realize or i completely forgot YOURE WRITING A WHOLE NEW FIC#I MUST READ THIS#KLANCE
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let's work it out on the remix
chapter 1 is up!!
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Nobody on the team brings up what happened three weeks ago on Ethuliv. They don't talk about it during the mission debrief right after. It’s never mentioned during downtime on the Castleship. Even Shiro doesn't stop Lance after dinner to talk about it one on one. About the day Lance almost died.
It wasn't a huge spectacle anyway, Lance supposes. It’s possible none of the other paladins noticed at all. How he was only seconds away from feeling the full embrace of the bombs set to detonate the Galran outpost to pieces. What’s worse was it was Pidge and Hunk who designed those bombs. It was them who meticulously placed them and set the timer to go off at just the right time.
So how could they have forgotten Lance, who never got the signal to move out? Who felt alone and suddenly suspicious of the empty halls of the base around him, only for Red to finally scream in his head GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. She knew. And he didn't.
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read the rest on ao3 :D
#HAIII im no author but uh. im writing a thing!#klance#klance fic#klancedaywrites???#omg i haven't used that tag in forever lol
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more hugs please
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Julance Day 22: cool ninja sharpshooter
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klance is so abnormal to me cause it’s like peak DEVOTION. do you guys fucking get me. look me in the eyes i am shaking like a rabid dog during vows people say in sickness and health and until death do us part but they’ve been on that level since forever and ever. . they would have each other in any way they would genuinely have each other at arm’s length if that was all they could have. it’s genuinely fucked in the head this is real this is real to me i have brainworms.
#LIKE GENUINELY THEY ARE ON A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT LEVEL OF LOVE LIKE UNPARALLELED#they would love each other till the end of the universe actually#klance
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LOVAHHHHSSSS
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i’m sorry- am I distracting you?
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JULANCE DAY 18: LEO
Lance and Keith face one another wordlessly, standing on the training deck. Eyes narrowed, Lance’s arms are still crossed over his chest, and Keith looks slightly uncomfortable. His gaze keeps avoiding Lance’s, his arms are rigid at his side, and his face is impassive.
Red rumbles in Lance’s head, her hurt mixing with his. Lance has to agree with her. Right now, Lance feels no better than an animal. He has the urge to growl and hiss and fight, to throw his full weight into bringing Keith to the ground. Keith, who had promised to stand by Lance and protect their little family group. Keith, who left him to the mercy of Kuron without an ally.
“I missed you.” Keith suddenly breaks the silence.
Red, hot anger lashes through Lance’s skin. His shoulders raise, tense. Does Keith really think it’s going to be that easy? As if Lance will continue his brainless pattern of chasing his heels?
No. Never again. Right here, under bright white lights, in front of the man he considered his friend, Lance vows to stop. He’s done with reaching out, childlike hands outstretched toward Keith’s back.
“I’m here, samurai.”
“Aren’t you always?”
He’s done.
“You left,” Lance hisses, a finger jabbing accusatorily in Keith’s direction. Surprised, Keith’s eyes widen slightly, his mouth parting. “You abandoned us. You left us to him. You left me.”
Keith’s hand comes up between them, his posture now frantic. “I didn’t know! I left for you! You came up to me, talking about how there were too many paladins, so I stepped aside—“
“I didn’t ask for your pity, Keith!” Lance roars, feeling something snap between his ribs. “I didn’t ask for anything until I practically begged for you to stay!”
“Please don’t.”
“Goodbye, Lance.”
“I found out so much, Lance. I learned about my mom, and I was stuck for a decent chunk of time,” Keith tries to explain, his voice shaking.
“And then you snub me when you step foot back in the place I spent months protecting! You disrespected me in front of the entire team.” At some point, Lance had apparently prowled closer to Keith. He thinks, briefly, that he finally understands what Red meant when she told him to take advantage of his pure, unchecked emotion. Lance has never felt more raw or more emboldened. “You don’t get to do that to me. In fact, no one gets to do that to me anymore! It’s over!”
Relief floods his body, all-consuming. Lance isn’t sure what it is about Keith’s presence that inspires him to speak his mind, even after that exact behavior was punished over and over. Whatever the case, he can’t bring himself to regret his words.
For a moment, silence hangs over them. Lance, heart still racing, is only inches away from Keith, who looks entirely shocked.
Then, he dares to take Lance off guard; Keith pulls him into a tight hug. It’s crushing, squeezing the living daylights out of him, as if Keith can communicate what he’s thinking through his palms.
“I’m sorry, okay? I fucked up. I’m sorry.”
All at once, the fight whispers out of Lance. He slumps, buries his face into Keith’s hard, dark armor. Keith smells like sweat and mechanic oil and comfort. And Lance remembers.
A young boy, with not even a father, living out of a somewhat ramshackle desert home.
Lance feels abandoned, sure, but Keith is practically the king of that. How can he stay mad, when he understands exactly why Keith left? Change doesn’t happen to Keith. He makes his own change.
Honestly, part of Lance will always be envious of Keith’s bravery. To confront the unknown of his identity, even after rejection, couldn’t have been easy. Lance was just collateral damage.
It’s impossible to hold a grudge over Keith, of all people. Lance has always been quick to forgive, perhaps to a fault.
“I forgive you,” he sighs, meaning every word.
“We’ll be okay?” Keith sounds smaller than he’s ever sounded before.
“With time,” Lance decides tersely, still trembling with the force of his adrenaline.
The two men hold one another together, fingertips digging into metal armor that hides nothing that truly matters.
“ATTENTION!” They spring apart as Coran shouts over the intercoms, both looking opposite directions. “THERE HAS BEEN AN EMERGENCY. PLEASE PREPARE FOR IMMEDIATE EVACUATION OF THE CASTLE. Thank you!”
Bewildered, Lance waits for Keith to make a move.
“Uh, should we go?” Keith gestures to the door.
“Yeah. Probably.”
They both stand there for only a second more before running off toward the hangars, hands hovering over their weapons, their conversation seared into their minds.
#i love them genuinely more than anything else in my entire life like actually like i mean it#klance#im so happy for them sniff sniff 😿
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when i tell you guys that i’ve listened to vodka cranberry at least 72 times in the past week i am NOT kidding
#no im being actually serious this song is like an addiction i can’t go a day without it#klance#klance fanart#keith x lance#keith kogane#lance mcclain#keith voltron#lance voltron#these are screencaps from the music video btw#klancedayart
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improving at art is a crazy experience cause once in a while i draw smth that is actually pretty good and i am just in shock with myself cause like ofc it’s not perfect or professional but i just KNOW that if 14 year old me saw it she would lose her SHIT. like i’m at a point with my skills that younger me would totally look up to and enjoy seeing how / what i draw
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haaii!! can i request 10 and 27 for the artist asks? i adore your art a LOT as a newer voltron fan
- ⭐️🩵
HIIII welcome to the fandom!!!
10: Are you confident in your art?
yes...kind of .. some days i think it's nice but other days i myself comparing my work to other artists and worry about likes and if what im putting out is good enough 😞 ik i shouldn't compare myself but i guess that's just what happens when you post online
27: For digital artists: how many layers does a typical piece require?
LOLL like ...around 20-30 for a normal piece. but that's just cus i feel like every new detail deserves a new layer kshsjgsjs
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klance at the mcr concert bc if i can’t go THEY WILL ‼️
#RAHHHHH#im still salty about not being able to go see them 😔#also keith looks like that cus he’s super emotional about seeing them live. like i would be#klance#klance fanart#keith x lance#keith kogane#lance mcclain#klancedayart
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A bit late to the party but happy blue month to the only blue boy ever<33
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2 & 18 for the artist asks? :)
- coranfucker94
OMG HIIIIII
2. How long have you been drawing?
i've always liked drawing since elementary school but i was always super embarrassed of it so i didn't really pick it up until quarantine sooo about 5 ish years :)
18: What are you currently trying to improve on?
honestly nothing at the moment 😭 im already swamped with irl stuff and i just want to draw and have fun as much as i can before i leave for college (where i assume i will have way less time for art in general lol)
#asks#is it bad that as an artist i never really wanted to work on improving anything#...lwk i just draw and if over time i get better at it then YAY if not i just can't bring myself to gaf
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JULANCE DAY 11: STORMS
There’s a storm on the horizon. Lance can feel it deep in the marrow of his bones, that slight crackling of energy signifying a downpour. He loves the feeling right before a storm, the humidity and charge and anticipation of it all. Over the course of this war, he’s learned that he thrives in that spot, the fear and panic associated with a before moment.
When the team turns to him, right as they’re about to enter a battle, and asks, Lance, what do we do?
Somehow, he almost always has an answer. He’ll relay his formation to Keith and watch as the black paladin takes the violent, sudden plunge. It’s breathtaking to witness the lightning finally break, wind curling in spirals and lifting them higher than Lance ever thought possible. Battle becomes less of a tornado and more of a precision shot. Keith and Lance have become less rivals and more teammates. Friends, even, especially under the cover of late nights.
The liminal space nighttime affords breaks new grounds for them. As they do paperwork and review reports, their exhaustion lowers their walls, opens their conversations up in front of dark, star-studded windows. On lighter days, they laugh over memories like Keith trying to fight the Arusians or their awful pool attempt. Other times, they bare their hearts more meaningfully. Lance opens up about his family, missing his siblings and his parents, wondering if the war has changed him beyond recognizability. Keith first shares his lack of family back on Earth in very short detail. Most of the team knows the basics; Keith finding out about his alien heritage exposed some of the less-fine details. Then, however, he delves into more.
Keith isn’t a storyteller. His words are blunt, simple, and honest. Still, Lance has always had a vivid imagination, and Lance can picture it all as Keith describes it (and then some).
A young boy, with only a father, both living out of a somewhat-ramshackle desert home. Eating quick microwaveable foods, but thinking they were “awesome,” because your dad said the other firefighters ate them too. Being somewhat of a loner at school, too shy to talk to the other kids, and maybe too odd to be approached.
Getting pulled out of class. Learning about the fire that killed him.
“And Allura tells me I’m the guardian of fire, when we find the lions,” Keith remarks with a bitter laugh. “I was 17, and even then, I knew that was fucked up.”
It sticks with Lance, makes him hurt. Every ounce of his effort goes into holding himself back from wrapping Keith tight in his arms and forcing him to stay, to feel comfort for once.
They find solace in one another, in the blanket-fort security only late hours can provide.
“You were strong anyways, red.”
“Did we have another option?”
Lance thought things were going well, for them. Keith and Lance, side by side, chasing greatness together like a story out of his favorite childhood movies.
And then he senses it: the storm. It comes on slowly, a few warnings happening in a row right before the flood. He should’ve known better than to feel settled in a war, alongside a partner known to run at the start of a drizzle.
First: the injury.
“Lance, Lance, Lance,” Hunk’s voice shrieks over the comms. They’re on the ground on a horrible planet, one made of desert sand colored bright orange. Over and over, they have to wipe their visors as they engage Galra forces, clearing dust and debris. It’s so hot that Lance can barely breathe between his shots.
“What, buddy?” Lance shouts back, alarmed at the fear in his voice. Hunk’s consistent phobias haven’t vanished, but he has become more sturdy with time. It takes more than a small incident to shake him, now.
“It’s Keith!” Hunk continues as Lance kicks away a sentry and clubs another. “He’s hurt!”
The world stops. The universe stops. For barely a second, Lance lets the words sink in, lets the reality crash over him. He wants nothing more than to run right to wherever Keith is and grab him, drag him to Red, and zip back to the castle. Or to scream his lungs out.
Then, he feels a tugging on his arm, and looks slightly downward. Pidge is there, eyes wide and worried, and fuck, Keith is down. He has to make the calls. Lance can’t just rush toward him with fury and fear.
“Keep going, Pidge,” Lance orders, patting her shoulder and sending her off. She nods sharply, a calculating but rage-filled expression overtaking her features as she spins back in the fray. To hunk, he continues, “Get Keith back to the castle and hand him off to Coran! We clean up here, we get out, and he’ll be fine. Damage assessment?”
Hunk, loyal and kind, ignores the way his voice breaks on the last phrase. “Long slashing wound to lateral thorax!”
Lance quells the flash of emotion that threatens to consume him. “Go, Hunk!”
“Roger.”
And Lance hates himself as the comms isolate to Pidge and Allura’s cross battle talk. He should be there, by Keith. He wishes he was there. Realistically, though, he knows he made the logical, correct call— Hunk is much stronger than him anyways, and Keith won’t be alone. Lance trusts Hunk with every fiber of his being.
That still doesn’t stop him from cutting through Galra soldiers like his life depends on it, anger and frustration channeled into expert shooting.
They clean up. Everyone gathers by Keith’s pod to wish him good luck on healing, but they trickle out after a few minutes. Healing pods have become routine after their months of fighting. Keith especially is no stranger to them.
Lance only steps away for ten minutes, to take a fast shower. He returns to wait by Keith’s pod for the remaining four hours, an Altean library tablet propped on his knee. It’s better than watching Keith, too still and too pale. When the pod finally opens, he jumps to his feet to support Keith. He’s grateful they’re alone, at first.
“Let me,” he demands, supporting Keith’s back and shoulders with an arm looping around him. Keith, for once, accepts the help and lets Lance lead him out of the pod with trembling legs. He feels cold to the touch, but he can stand. Thank God.
“Lance?” Keith blinks, clearly still out of it. Lance clasps his free hand in Keith’s.
“I’m here, samurai.”
“Aren’t you always?” Keith snorts. It stirs up warm feelings in Lance, so at odds with Keith’s state.
“Shut up,” Lance mutters, because he’s although he matured, he hasn’t really changed.
“I was so useless,” Keith groans out of nowhere. The statement makes Lance freeze, a deep frown taking over his features.
“You weren’t. We all get hurt.” Keith just huffs in his hold, shakes his head.
“I wouldn’t have made that call. You did good. Better, than I would.”
A pang threatens to bowl Lance over. He stays standing, steady, if only for Keith.
“We don’t know that.”
“We do, though.”
Maybe Lance should have seen the sparks even back then. Perhaps he was willingly blind. Instead of continuing the conversation, though, he instructed Keith to get rest.
“You’ll make more sense in the morning, Kogane.”
Second: the unthinkable.
Shiro is back. He’s alive. The whole team rejoices, eyes bright, relief and love palpable. Pidge practically climbs all over Shiro, desperate to learn what happened to him. Hunk is beaming. Coran claps a hand over his heart. Allura is practically giddy.
Keith? He’s quiet. Keith engages briefly with Shiro, overwhelmed and happy and desperate to see him again. Then, after their reunion, he retreats slightly. Lance isn’t sure what occurred between the brothers, and isn’t able to hide his shock at the brevity of their conversation.
“Don’t you want to chat with Shiro more? He’s back, man!” Lance prods Keith with his finger while they sit at the edge of the room.
“I don’t want him to ask about my leading,” Keith responds shortly. He’s staring at Shiro from the walls, expression unreadable.
“What are you talking about? We did great.” Lance pushes his shoulder gently with his fist.
“I’m not looking for your input, Lance,” Keith snaps.
Which, ouch.
“That’s not what these past few weeks have shown,” Lance shoots back, pissed off at the quick dismissal.
“Stop getting in my business.” Keith stands abruptly and makes his way toward the doors, every line of his body sharp and tense. The shadow he leaves behind threatens to envelope Lance, a cloud of invisible smoke.
He supposes these kinds of conversations are strictly reserved for twilight.
Lastly: Lance.
It’s his fault. Of course it is! Every problem Lance has woven himself into has been with his speedy tongue, too energetic and fast-paced, speaking before he can fathom the consequences.
But he’d just been so used to talking to Keith. Sure, there’d been that one dismissal earlier. Still, though, he feels he can tell Keith anything. This is the man who learned every member of Lance’s family over reports, for goodness’s sake. So he approaches the black paladin with his insecurities.
Six paladins, five lions. Lance is hardly the best at combat or mechanics. If he has to step down, he’ll be fine.
Keith reassures him with some strange platitudes (who says “leave the math to Pidge” as a means of reassurance?) and Lance is grateful for the effort. Keith’s hand on his shoulder is unusual, while not unwelcome.
The strangeness of it all doesn’t leave him. Later that night, he tries to sleep, and can’t seem to fall fully into it. He’s restless with the day’s hubbub.
Suddenly, he hears something in the hall: soft tapping, a light grunt. Awareness crawls through his body in a sudden wave of cold air. He draws himself up to a seated position in the dark, bare feet touching the ground as he hears the tapping grow louder, then quieter.
Then it vanishes entirely.
Lance knows what direction those footsteps came from. Only two rooms lie at the end of the hall: Pidge’s and Keith’s. Pidge rarely moved once she found a perch for the night. That leaves one troubled leader, who Lance knows like the back of his hand. His decision isn’t fully thought out before he throws his robe on and runs down the hallway, chasing after those footsteps.
“Oh no you don’t,” Lance grumbles under his breath, turning brightly lit corridors and ignoring how the light burns his dark-adjusted eyes. It doesn’t take long to arrive at his destination: the emergency pods. Ten line the wall, but only one has a duffel bag and a dumbass beside it.
“Oh no you don’t!” Lance repeats, loudly. He jabs an accusatory finger and Keith’s owlishly blinking face. “You can’t leave us in the middle of the night!”
“What else am I supposed to do?” Keith hisses back. He’s dressed in his plainclothes and has one leg half in the pod already, a hand pushing up the door.
“Stay!” Lance practically explodes.
“I can’t. You said it yourself. We have an extra paladin, and I’m pretty much useless, now,” Keith explains. His words sound clinical leaving his mouth, stirring Lance’s blood further.
“I didn’t mean that you had to leave! I mean I’d step back!” Lance yells, volume increasing. “Don’t just run away! Shiro just returned, man.”
“And he’ll be safer with you than with me,” Keith argues. “I’m bad luck. You know that.”
“Not to me,” Lance says, raw and exposed and hurting once more. “Please don’t. I can’t. You’re our leader.”
Perhaps that was the wrong thing to say. Lance knew Keith had always struggled to accept his leadership, even as he shone in the role.
“Goodbye, Lance. Take care of the team.”
He slides into the pod and shuts the door, taking Lance’s breathing with him. Keith has always hidden from the watchful eye of a surge, when he senses one coming. Lance wishes he could scream, as the clouds open up above him and unleash torrents upon his body. He wishes he could beat his fists against the pod door and curse it and make it stop its flight path. He wishes he could pull Keith out of the pod and wrap him in his arms. He wishes he could run to his side, throw caution to the wind.
Instead, he lets the rumble of thunder still his motion. Keith runs, and Lance stays, awaiting the hurricane he has brought upon them.
Because Lance McClain has always thrived in the moments before.
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Hiiii I wanted to ask 6 and 9 for the artist asks if u wanna do them <33 love u dreams🫶🏽
aww taro love u more 😘!!
6: What’s your least favorite thing to draw?
BACKGROUNDS for sure. i always try to make them as interesting and decorative as the characters but it's so hard to make it Pop but not be too distracting. i have a sort of developed formula now which is basically just add little hearts and sparkles everywhere lol
9: How much time do you spend drawing on an average day?
wellll it really just depends on how motivated i am and how much energy i have. some days im spending 3 hours on art but on others maybe half an hour 😅
#on days im working tho i like never draw digitally im so tired. i may draw in my sketchbook tho#thank u for the ask!!!! 💗💗💗#asks#ask game
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Just realized that Klance isn’t my Roman Empire. They’re my white whale. They took my fucking leg and now I’m out here crazed with thoughts of them, leaving my wife, my kid to find them, to spot them, even for a glimpse. Just a glimpse….
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