#insecure keith

[autisticlancemcclain]

“You’re not going.”

Keith picks his head up from the table. “Huh?”

“To the Blades,” Lance clarifies, chopping up something that looks like a bright pink potato and throwing it in a rapidly boiling pot in what Keith would call an aggressive manner. “You’re not going.”

“…I didn’t say I was.”

He didn’t. He didn’t mention anything about the Blades to any living soul. Like, yeah, he had made the decision and was going to, but.

There’s no reason Lance should know that.

“Good, then, because I took your uniform — which looks like a slutty catsuit, by the way, just so you’re aware — to the incinerator last night. It’s ash now.”

Keith stares at his best friend, jaw dropped, hands resting limply on the edge of the dining table, because — huh? pardon? what happened?

“Whatever identity crisis you’re having can happen here,” Lance adds, shaking some spices into the boiling pot and stirring it a couple times. He dips in a spoon, brings it up to his lips, then makes a face. “Here, try this.”

He marches over to where Keith has been moping as he makes dinner and shoves a spoon into his gaping mouth. Keith chokes, hot stew making its merry way down his trachea, eyes watering and chest heaving.

“A little too salty,” he rasps.

Lance scowls. “Fuck. I knew it. Gotta add more barbie potatoes.” He turns down the heat, grabbing more potatoes from the sack and busying himself with peeling them. Slowly, as he recovers from the fear of his actual lungs collapsing in on themselves, Keith stands, hesitantly approaching Lance and reaching for a knife to chop what he peels.

“So,” he starts.

Lance ignores him.

But Keith is used to this dynamic. It’s either this or flipped. Friends or not, if there’s one thing they can’t do it’s use their big boy words. So he carries on.

“I take it you…don’t want me to go, then.”

Lance grunts. “Oh, look, the caveman has room in his skull for a brain after all.”

“Uncalled for,” Keith says, scowling. “I am not the one who’s refusing to communicate right now.”

The corner of Lance’s mouth twitches upwards.

Score. Point to Keith.

“Obviously I don’t want you to leave, you stupid dumbass,” Lance admits finally. He wrestles the chopped roots out of Keith’s hands and practically dunks them in the pot, turning the heat back up. Keith smears his starch covered hands on his shirt in revenge (and then wisely takes three quick and giant steps back, well out of backhanding range).

“But there are too many paladins,” Keith points out. “You said it yourself.”

Lance grabs a dishtowel, twisting it menacingly in his hands. Keith tries not to think about the scar he knows Hunk has from when Lance snapped a towel at him when they were kids, wrestling in the McClains’ kitchen. He fails.

“Do you actually have any braincells left in your head at all?”

“Yes, jackass. That’s why I did the math. I leave and the numbers add back up. Problem solved.”

“You leave and Voltron falls apart,” Lance snaps. “So maybe crunch those numbers again.”

Keith stills. Lance steps towards him, still glaring, still menacing, but he doesn’t move — he holds Lance’s gaze, searching his dark eyes, looking for the words he isn’t saying. Because Keith…Keith isn’t the one holding Voltron together. There was a reason his heart caught in his throat when Lance came to him downtrodden and talked about being a seventh wheel. There’s a reason his duffel is packed, a reason he’s talked to Kolivan. He knows who needs to step aside.

“You just don’t get it,” Lance says, frustrated. He takes another step.

“You talk to us about teamwork all the time.”

Another step.

“You’re favourite thing to whine about is the bonding moment.”

Another step, this time as he pitches his voice high and mocking, flapping his hands.

“You never shut up about training as a group.”

One final step and he’s toe to toe, shoes to boots, nose to nose. Keith realises, startlingly, that they’re the exact same height, now.

“We are a crew, imbécil. Team, group, boyband. Whatever you wanna call it. All for one and one for all. The whole nine yards, all that cheesy bullshit.” He pokes Keith hard in the chest. “You don’t get to ditch.”

“But it makes more sense,” Keith argues, weakly and half-desperately. “We only have so many resources. If I can be useful at the Blades —”

“Fuck the fucking Blades.”

Keith deflates. His hand comes up to stop Lance’s jabbing finger, curling around his knuckles. Lance softens, slightly.

“I just want to be as useful as I can be.”

“And if you’re enough as you are?” Lance asks quietly.

Keith opens his mouth, but stops, automatic I’m not dying in his throat. For the first time in his life, it doesn’t seem like the truth, with the determined set to Lance’s jaw and the sliding of their fingers together, gripping tightly.

“Then I guess I’m staying,” Keith breathes.

Lance nods. “Good.”

Keith notices his hands are kind of clammy. His forehead, too, is a little sweaty. The air between them feels hot. Keith swallows.

“Your stew is on fire,” he croaks, voice rough.

Lance drops his hand, cursing.

“Oh — por amor de dios, hablas en fucking serio —”

———

At dinner, Keith eats his burnt stew without a word of complaint. When Lance drags him to the sink to help clean up, after, even though it’s not his turn, he goes, and he lingers too close and too long, and he’s grateful that the duffel he packed to leave home for good is laid emptied on his bed when he turns in for the night.

[discordiansamba]

anyways I don't know if it's due to falling asleep to the backdrop of people setting off way too many fireworks or not, but I had a weird dream last night and now I am here to tell you guys all about it because I've been idly rotating it all day. you've heard of body swap not get ready for... personality swap, I guess? But not completely?

anyways it seemed to take place at the tail end of season one, where instead of getting shot out into random locations by the corrupted wormhole, all the lions stayed on the Castle, but something about the combination of the corrupted wormhole and the paladin bond resulted in something... weird happening. Some kind of quintessence rearrangement that resulted in Lance, Hunk, Pidge, and Keith all swapping aspects of their personalities around that Shiro was apparently spared from because of some kind of defense mechanism that Pidge installed in the control chip for his arm that's in his brain that protected him but the backlash forced him to require some time in the cyropod.

(I guess my brain said. you know what would be funny. Shiro just waking up to this nonsense. and honestly? valid.)

(also allura and coran are fine and somehow escaped the wormhole don't worry about it. apparently the mice did also have their personalities swapped around but like. they're mice. they don't care.)

Pidge was probably the least effected bc she got traits from Hunk, who she already has a decent amount in common with, except now she's prone to nervous tirades, is now a morning person, and is calmed by the act of cooking. except she can't cook. Hunk at least kept very clear notes on all of his cooking experiments so she has something to work with. She suddenly finds herself more drawn to tinkering with things as opposed to coding, but she can still do the latter super easily. Also she has a solid sleep schedule now? She also stops wearing her brother's glasses bc she winds up fixated on the idea that she'll break them so she just keeps them safe in her room instead. Which she has now cleaned. She still kind of feels like she dodged a bullet. Sorry guys.

Lance is... having an experience, because he picked up traits from Pidge. He likes studying now? Except apparently he still has ADHD, but also Coran gave him this clicker thing that seems to be working wonders. He's suddenly a lot less interested in flirting and his detailed skin care routine kind of doesn't seem so important anymore. He has to actively set alarms on his phone otherwise he'll pull all nighters. He's starting to learn how to code? Which is weird but it's oddly calming. He's also pretty sure he picked up Pidge's sense of humor, because Pidge definitely picked up Hunk's sense of humor.

Hunk, to his great misfortune, has picked up traits from Keith. Which also includes his temper and his general introversion, the former of which he is working very hard on managing. He's also spending way more time on the training deck than ever before, but it suddenly doesn't feel like exercise so much as it feels... relaxing? Also he is like. always tense. What the hell, Keith, how did you live like this. How is HE going to live like this. Although it is kind of nice to not feel the urge to puke from nerves, which he... doesn't really seem to have anymore? That's kind of nice.

Keith is probably the oddest case of the bunch. He picked up personality traits from Lance, which he can't even get angry about because he doesn't have a temper anymore? apparently? He's suddenly a lot more extroverted, and also he feels the weird compulsion to... flirt? He's also become way more interested in self care and is suddenly not a morning person anymore. But for all that in some ways he has the most traits leftover from his core personality, because those traits turned out not to be parts of his personality so much as they were due to him being Galra- so he still likes training and fighting as much as he did before. Which is great, because if he let Lance's personality take him by the nose, he'd definitely just start to coast on his talent.

But they also each still have core aspects of themselves that apparently their lions preserved so it's not a full personality swap. Pidge will still wax poetic about the tech around them. Lance might not be huge into self care anymore, but he's still interested in trying to keep himself looking good. Hunk is still very kind, which makes having Keith's temper hard on him. Keith still is a nature boy and a jock, and somehow still doesn't understand how the cheer goes.

POV: You're Shiro. You wake up to this mess. It's been like this for a week apparently, and Coran and Allura don't know how to fix it.

...can you just go back to the cryopod maybe?

[klanced]

this isn’t even about my evil agenda anymore I actually just need to hear your dissertation on voltron/klance x first love late spring

you do evil things to my dick and balls. i hope you know that.

first love / late spring is a very keith-core song, but i think it also applies to both keith and lance... but more specifically, FL/LS is keith pre-relationship, and then FL/LS is lance once they have already started dating.

i'm obsessed with that one interview of mitski where she explained that she wrote this song while she was experiencing her vulnerable first love... and first love is vulnerable. you simultaneously reap the rewards of being known but at the same time, you've now let someone else know you, and now you have to trust them to take care of you. and it's so vulnerable. it's more naked than being naked. and it's so difficult as well because now you're learning a brand new way you can be hurt.

so keith, pre-relationship... he's pining for lance and he is MISERABLE. he's lost control! he feels like he's being consumed by the enormity of his feelings. he's eight years old and small and never asked for this, he never wanted to know he could feel this way. he just wants lance to fucking go already. keith wants to spit vitriol and blame and shame and drive lance away so that when lance leaves him (and he will leave him, like everyone else has), then at least it will be on keith's own terms for once. and keith doesn't, he refuses, to say how he feels. he'll spitefully choke on his confession until it suffocates him. he doesn't want to know what lance might say.

but he also is afraid of lance's reaction because... if lance gives him even a sliver of ground, if there's even a promise of a chance -- keith will fold instantly. he will jump into this love headfirst. he'll do anything if it will make lance stay with him.

and then lance, mid-established relationship... things with keith are perfect, everything is going great, so why does lance feel so anxious all the time? why does he feel so scared when keith looks at him like he's his whole world? maybe the problem is lance. because what they have is real. because he's pretty sure keith is it for him. and that terrifies lance. because lance, deep down, knows he's going to screw this up. and it's not just his heart on the line; he's also going to hurt keith.

keith smiles at him and lance feels sick to his stomach. he wants to tell keith that they might be happy right now, but eventually, lance is going to ruin this. he wants to warn keith that lance is going to break his heart one day.

lance isn't always so negative about himself. during the day, it's easy to let himself be buoyed and enveloped by his feelings for keith. he loves being in love with keith. because the love is real. it's real, and it's there, and that matters. but at night, all those poisonous insecurities and anxieties rear their ugly head, and lance finds himself standing on a ledge over a drop. lance daydreams about spending the rest of his life with keith; lance has never felt so young and small.

[urproblematicfav-arsonk]

I'm pretentious and annoying: here are some of my fav bits of my own fucking fic. I'm literally so funny and good at writing.

I also forgot to add it to the fic notes but since I was ovulating and had the flu while writing this that meant I was snotting both out my nose and my pussy(which I don't think was good for my fluid intake://)

[klanceficatalogue]

If I’m allowed to be self promotional lol-I’d really love it if you guys rec’d my most popular fic bc I want people to check out my other fics too! Lol. Anyways it’s called Ripped Open, Unsightly (let yourself be loved when you’re ugly) by artimess_chimes on ao3. :) it’s a LANGST klance fic lol tw for injury, gore, suicidal ideation. Thank you guys! Love your blog ❤️ always the go to when I need a klance pick me up, I’m so glad you guys are back!!!

of course!! thanks for the ask <33 - k

Ripped Open, Unsightly (let yourself be loved when you're ugly) by artimess_chimes (6/6 | 17,994 | Mature)

"What even happened?" Lance asked, disoriented and still cold, still aching. "You hid an injury." Keith was at the end of the cot, gripping the bed frame with knuckles turned white. He looked so angry his face had gone pale in places, and he trembled. His black eyes danced like hot coals in the base of a fire. "And then you took on a druid all by yourself and got yourself cursed." or Lance has self esteem issues. It takes a druids curse to help bring them to light so that he can be loved.

//violence //gore //depression //blood and injury //suicide ideation

[caramellles]

over recent months the guys have done a lot of work within the band! they have already released their first single, and have almost finished work on their first album. the work on the songs is going quite fast, since most of them were written a long time ago. all they needed was a revision and a fresh look. and now the album is almost ready for release! the guys are very excited! despite the fact that Zane joined the band quite recently, he has quite an important role. he is a guitarist and one of the vocalists. at first, he was worried that it would be difficult for him to join an already well-coordinated team. however, his expectations were not fulfilled, and the guys were able to get into a working rhythm quickly enough. moreover, they were even able to get to know each other well!

Keith was the person who helped Zane adapt and get to know the guys better. he is very gentle and friendly. the only person he is strict with is his sister. but even despite little arguments and misunderstandings, they maintain a good relationship. also, he is the most responsible and organized person among the others. probably for this reason, he unofficially got the role of leader in the group.

Ernest is the most silent and calm person in this company. most of the time he is immersed in songwriting. Ern doesn't talk much about himself. despite the fact that their wives became friends, Zane still couldn't find an approach to Ern. in addition, Ernest has absolute authority in the group. he has a musical education and great experience in a musical career. his word always carries weight.

Ida is the most extraordinary member of the group. no one knows what's on her mind or what she's doing. sometimes it seems that there is no shame, no regrets, no worries in her. most of the time, she just acts like a child. however, despite all these things, she is insanely talented. Ida has incredible vocals and her singing is mesmerizing. despite the fact that their acquaintance was quite strange, Ida and Zane found a common ground. besides, their voices sound good together! it makes the vocal part of the band's performances quite strong.

[icypantherwrites]

New Fanfic: The Real One

Summary: Keith knows he and Lance are both lucky to be alive after their ship crashes. Not so lucky is the fact Lance has a pretty nasty concussion and he’s being incredibly stubborn about letting Keith help him. But as his symptoms only grow worse Keith discovers that there’s a different side to Lance beneath the cockiness and stubbornness and this person… he seems far more real.

Story snippet:

“Keith,” Lance’s voice was barely a whisper and his voice was so small despite the fact the word was far clearer than anything else he’d said in the last few minutes and the shiver returned full force as Lance’s eyes fluttered closed again. “Don’t feel good,” Lance whispered.

And beneath the tan of his skin Keith could see that Lance was starting to not just look a little pale but…

But a little green and his lips were pressing together tightly as his face screwed up and—

“Oh fuck—”

Keith barely made it to Lance’s side and practically gave him whiplash as he grabbed the boy’s shoulders and turned him sideways before he vomited all over his lap.

Lance let out a sort of disgusting hrking sound but more than that there was the sound of a sob followed by a moan and Lance slumped completely against Keith’s hold, entire body shaking.

Keith fought to remain as still as possible to both not jar Lance any further and to not make this nearly impromptu hug any more awkward than he felt as Keith didn’t do hugs — only with Shiro and even then not like this — and if Lance made some comment about the cradling arms thing that he swore he didn’t recall at all…

But Lance said nothing, only whimpered and somehow dropped more of his weight down and Keith was forced to tighten his grip lest Lance try to put his face into his vomit puddle.

Read it here

[the-kittens-of-vol-tron]

"The first step to fixing a problem is admitting you have a problem"

"No, I'm not fixing my problem. I'm just self aware"

Could be Langst or Klance or both

I give you klangst 

-----

Lance politely excused himself from the conversation he found himself in, borderline storming out of the ballroom. He mumbled curses under his breath as he headed to the observatory deck. 

He always came here when he was upset or missing home more than usual, usually the former than the latter. 

He plopped down on the steps, hugging his waist. Stupid mullet, stupid mister perfect. He could oversleep every single day and yell at everyone and still be the #1 best teammate. He looked up at the stars, begging for some peacefulness. I hate him. 

Okay, hate is a strong word, Lance felt the opposite regarding his fellow team member. He had a ridiculously unrequited crush on him. He knew it wasn’t Keith’s fault he was prone to jealousy and didn’t know how to manage it. It wasn’t Keith's fault that he compared nearly every aspect of himself to him. It wasn’t Keith's fault he was just Lance. 

Lance was always an insecure guy, being the youngest meant he had to fight for attention. His parents loved him and he knew he was loved but he never felt good enough; it was a weird feeling.

He just wanted to feel worthy for once. He wanted to be applauded for something he did, for a plan he created, for saving a species, for something.

Tonight just tipped him over the edge a bit. He and Keith had infiltrated a ship together, stopping a new Galran weapon from destroying an entire planet.

It was Lance's idea to go on the ship, it was Lance's idea to have the team distract the fighters from the sky as Keith and Lance made their way through. Keith had tagged along due to his Galra biology and he opened the doors for him. It was all Lance's idea.

So why did Keith get all the praise at the celebration?

The team clapped with everyone else and Lance gave a couple of weak claps before leaving. Lance didn't feel part of the team, he didn't feel valued as a team member, and he just wanted to leave.

He wanted to take Blue and just fly anywhere that wasn't the castle or the Galran empire. He knew he was being selfish. The team wasn't even aware of his issue so he couldn't really blame them.

He really hated his mind most of the time. He rationally knew he was valued and wanted but most of the time he couldn't convince himself that he was.

"Thought you'd be in here." Keith's voice rang in the darkness of the room and Lance rolled his eyes.

"What? Already tired of people chanting your name? Go, Keith! Our savior." He wrapped his arms around his knees, pressing his forehead against them.

He heard Keith sigh and take a couple of steps into the room. "If you didn't run away so fast you would have heard Allura correct them. Tell everyone you came up with the plan."

Lance scoffed, "sure whatever."

"I'm serious." He heard Keith sit down next to him, keeping distance between them.

"Wow one point for Lance, like twenty for Keith."

He heard Keith groan in frustration. "I'm sorry you hate me. But if I can make you hate me any less could you please tell me?" Keith said in a slight huff.

"I don't hate you."

"You don't like me."

"It's not," Lance lifted his head up slightly, not being able to face the other boy. "I'm just, angry with myself."

"Why do you take it out on me?" Keith's voice was laced with slight anger.

"I don't know."

"Bullshit. Ever since we save Shiro on Earth you've been trying to start something with me."

"Maybe I don't like your mullet." Lance turned to face him, Keith staring back at him with fire in his eyes.

"It's not a mullet!"

"Yes, it is!" Lance stood up, staring down at the other boy. "If you took like a minute to look at yourself in a mirror you would see that it's a mullet."

Keith stood up, "why are you obsessed with my hair?"

"It's not just your hair."

Keith crossed his arms, "what else do you hate about me then?"

"Just-Just you're perfect at everything! You're Keith Kogane! Shiro borderline adopted brother. You've never been scolded or belittled or told to do better. I'm just a fucking boy from Cuba stuck in space with mister can-do-no-wrong constantly reminded that I'll never be up to your standards. Or anyone's standards. The only thing I have on you is I didn't flunk out from the Garrison. Even when you were still top of the class." Lance looked at the ground, "I only go fighter because you left."

"Lance-"

"And maybe I'm just upset because I want to have that." He looked back up at the other boy, who was staring back at him with a somber expression. "I want for once to be the center of praise or approval. Not begging for someone to just acknowledge what I'm capable of."

Lance shifted his gaze up, looking out into the stars. "I'm the youngest, and they say the youngest gets spoiled but by the time I was born all my siblings were in high school. They were going into college, getting scholarships, and I was just...left behind." He wrapped his arms around his waist, "my family loves me. I know they do, but I always felt left out."

"I always wanted to find my place somewhere, somewhere I felt important or needed. Then you," he brought his gaze back down towards the other boy, "had to come into space with us and once again," his voice became barely a whisper. "I'm in someone's shadow."

Neither spoke for what felt like forever, the silence looming over them like a fog.

"I didn't know you felt like that."

Lance rolled his eyes, plopping back down on the step with a huff.

Keith looked down at him, "I'm serious."

"Okay."

Keith returned to his spot next to Lance, the air tenser between them. "You're not just a boy from Cuba, I hope you know that."

"I'm not much here. Just the 7th wheel if you ask me."

Keith shook his head, "I'm sorry you feel like that but Lance, you're more than that. You're vital to the team."

Lance scoffed, "sure."

Keith released a small sigh, "I'm serious. Without you, we wouldn't be Voltron."

"Allura can fly blue."

"So what?!"

Lance turned his head at the boy's outburst, his shoulders rising and falling as he tried to compose himself. "So I'm not needed."

"So that's it?! Someone else could fly your lion so you have no worth all of a sudden? You have worth, you are a part of this team you're-"

"I'm leaving the team." Lance surprised himself. He had always entertained the thought but he never spoke the words out loud.

Keith sucked in a quick breath, clearly not expecting those words to be said. "What?"

Lance took a shaky breath, keeping his eyes trained forward on nothing in particular. "I'm leaving the team. No matter what I do I'm not needed here."

"Jesus Lance, listen to what you're saying. If you didn't come up with your plan on that ship we would have been captured or killed. You did that, if you weren't here no one would have thought of that."

"You don't know that Keith."

"Well, you seem to act like you know what our lives would be like if you left." Keith's voice sounded a bit sharp in the quiet of the room and Lance couldn't blame him. If the roles were reversed he would be just as upset as Keith.

"I just want to belong."

Keith's face fell slightly and his body relaxed ever so slightly. "I'm sorry you feel like you don't. I wasn't aware you felt like that. I don't think any of us were."

Lance opened his mouth to respond but no words tumbled out. He suddenly realized how exposed he felt, how he basically spilled every insecurity he ever felt in his life to his crush. "I need to go."

He stood up, making a beeline towards the door, a gloved hand grabbing his arm and twisting him around. He was face to face with Keith, a bit closer than they usually stood. "You have a problem."

"Excuse me?"

Keith shook his head, "that came out wrong. I just...look I'm not good with words but you need help? Support I don't know."

Lance looked down at Keith's finger wrapped around his arm.

"The team will want to help you, I want to help you. Please just, don't leave before we get the chance." Keith looked down at his own hand, then back up at Lance's face. "Shiro used to say that the first step to fixing a problem is admitting you have a problem."

Lance met his eyes, quickly shifting his gaze to the scenery beside his head. "No, I'm not fixing my problem. I'm just self-aware. Me leaving will at least be a step towards something." He tried to turn again but he couldn't shake his arm from Keith's grasp. "Let me go."

"I can't. Not until you listen to me."

Lance stopped fighting against his teammate, this might be the last time he was able to touch Keith in any capacity so he might as well savor it. "I'm listening then."

Keith gave him a slow nod. "You're part of this team. Without you, we wouldn't have been able to access the Blue lion. She was waiting for you, Lance. You fought Sendek, you've come up with plans on the fly, you make the team laugh, you just...without you we wouldn't be the team we are today."

Lance didn't say anything, just simply staring at the spot beside Keith.

"You're our sharpshooter, you've saved all of our asses more times than we can count. We can explain how you feel to the team. We can all advocate for you, get you the credit you deserve." Keith tightened his hold on his arm ever so slightly, "please I don't want to lose you."

Lance was leaning forward before he could stop himself, softly pressing his lips against Keith's. He tried to pull back, but Keith held him close, holding on to him like he was a life raft.

When they eventually separated Lance slid his arm out of Keith's grasp. "I'm sorry," and he quickly left the room, trying to decide if he should go lay down or go get an escape pod.

-----

Ambiguous ending? I just,,,love writing angst sorry not sorry.

I hope I did this idea justice <3

Thank you <333

[alwaysoc]

[sheepkebby]

Hi other me! I heard that your world is going to shit too and wanted to say that you ain't alone. You'll survive this, your a Keith after all! even it's you vs the world. (also heard you have a dog now and I'm kinda jealous ngl)

[monstersinthecosmos]

i remember yeeeaaars ago sending you an anon about how ttsr! seemed to be panning out to be a slow burn daddy kink and it's been such a ride since then LMAO. ugh i'm so excited!! it's literally my favorite fic ever 🫶

sgakhs babe ur so famous to me

I always worry a little bit because I was adding tags as they become relevant to avoid SPOILERS but I would feel bad if someone was like SUUUUPER daddy kink averse and got invested. But in fact, one of my cheerleaders who reads the WIP has that, and I make a special redacted google doc for him, and I wound up making an author's note offering that to anyone else.

But! It was there the whole time so, like. SARRY LOL. The clues are there! s2g though, no shame if anyone gets grossed out by any elements of this fic that weren't tagged yet, I don't want to upset anybody!!!!!!!!!!!! I didn't want to tag in advance in case I changed my mind and also just for spoiler purposes. I also went back at one point and added warnings in the end notes of each chapter so I just want everyone to feel safe reading it if they want to!!!

[autisticlancemcclain]

The mission was fine.

It wasn’t even a big one. It wasn’t even complicated. There were hardly any stakes.

Keith is exhausted.

He doesn’t know where it comes from, to bone-deep fatigue. Maybe it’s the way he’s struggled to sleep right his whole life, maybe it’s the tumultuous nature of being a paladin, maybe it’s the will of God. Who fucking knows. Not Keith.

He feels leaden. He doesn’t know how he summons the strength to walk to his room, doesn’t even remember doing the walking. He presses a heavy hand to the lockpad and keeps it there as the door open, because he realises abruptly that this is it, this is where it ends. The lockpad is currently holding him up. He can go no further — there is not a kilowatt of energy left in his body.

“Keith? What took so long? We landed at the same time but it’s been nearly fifteen — oh, baby.”

Keith’s vision is deeply unfocused, so he can’t see exactly, but he hears the soft thump of something set on a surface, then the familiar slide of Lance’s slippers against the floor.

Cold fingers resting gently on the side of his face shock him somewhat out of his stupor, and he blinks away the blurriness, focusing now on the face of his partner in front of him, eyebrows creased and brown eyes clouded in worry.

“‘M so tired,” Keith croaks before Lance can ask. He pitches forward and he’s damn lucky Lance is there to catch him, to stabilize his head on his collarbones and run gentle fingers through his tangled, sweaty hair.

“I see that,” Lance murmurs, troubled quality to his voice. He’s stunningly careful with his hands, taking time every time his fingers curl around a knot to untangle it without pulling, without hurting. He scratches the back of Keith’s scalp softly and Keith thinks he might just turn to liquid in Lance’s hands.

Lance presses a kiss to the crown of Keith’s head and then stays there, lips pressed to skin, hands falling down his sides to rest at his hips. “D’you know why?”

Keith shakes his head, exhaling long and slow, sagging deeper into Lance as he does.

Sometimes he just…gets like this.

He remembers how it would cost him at the Garrison. He would sink into these episodes of pure, endless, soul-leeching tiredness, weighed like a rock in his bed, asleep but aware of the hours and hours passing. When he shuts off like this time feels like thick honey, and he is trapped in the thick of it, trying desperately to yank his way through and only succeeding to get himself stuck further. He is a fly in a glue trap; the life is leeching out of him and he’s too groggy to panic about it.

Lance knows this, and Lance has never faulted him for it. It’s more than Keith has ever had before, more than he knows he deserves, deadweight as he is.

“C’mon,” he says, and then Keith is being tugged. Boneless as he is he does not resist, stumbling after Lance into their room, door sliding shut behind them. Lance tugs them further than expected, past their bed and to the ensuite, and he must read the distress in Keith’s face because he laces their fingers together and says in the same voice he uses when everything has gone to shit and Lance is their last hail mary: “Trust me.”

And Keith does.

Lance stops them a couple steps into the small room, moving Keith’s limbs for him so he’s leaned against the counter. He’s already down to his underclothes but doesn’t bother with himself for a moment, instead making quick work of the latches of Keith’s armour. He starts on the chest plate, unlatching it and pulling it off, letting it clatter to the floor. Keith is surprised at the relief it brings, at the extra breath that settles into his lungs.

Altean armour is made to be lightweight, but as Lance meticulously peels off every pieces of it from his shoulder pads to his boots, Keith feels as if one of the dozens of rocks on his shoulders has been removed, as if things are just a little bit lighter. Brazened by the newfound relief, however minuscule, he lifts his hands and reaches behind him to unzip his flightsuit, only to be stopped by fingers wrapped around his wrist.

“Let me,” Lance says quietly. Keith wants to protest but there’s the look in Lance’s eyes again, a bid for trust, an assurance that he can handle it, so Keith lets his hand drop back down to his side. Lance looks pleased, tugging down the long zipper and pulling the skintight fabric over Keith’s shoulders, down his hips, all the way down to his feet where he pauses for Keith to step out of them. Keith’s face burns, humiliated at his own babyishness, at his inability to undress himself like an adult; hell, like a kid. He knows Lance and he knows there are no unkind thoughts in his head right now, knows Lance has done this and more and for people in worse states than Keith, knows Lance has played nursemaid and clinician and sober friend and every other role where someone couldn’t function on their own and needed someone steady to function for them, because at the core of him Lance is whoever people need him to be. Because Lance will stretch and mold himself to help and help and help because he is painfully, endlessly, unbelievably kind, for all his brashness and bravado.

But the humiliation still warms him from head to toe, still makes acid churn in his stomach, still makes something crooked and twisted sneer in the back of his mind and whispers you think he will still respect you after this? after weakness? and Keith lets it echo because he can’t fight that sentiment off even when he has the energy to undress himself.

Skin still heated with his mortification, he watches as Lance quickly strips himself, stepping to the shower and turning the dials with great concentration. The sight makes Keith’s lip twitch involuntarily, at the furrow of his brow and tongue peeking out between his teeth. He stands with his hand under the water for well over a minute until he’s satisfied with the water, nodding to himself once before shaking out his wet hand and turning back to Keith.

Wordlessly, he links their fingers together again, squeezing three times in quick succession. He pulls Keith in and closes the curtain behind him, manoeuvring him so he’s under the stream, water soaking into his hair and pelting his bent neck and tense shoulders. It’s hotter than how he would usually have it, but surprisingly the extra heat is like a balm to his worn muscles, and it’s a struggle to keep himself upright.

He has no idea how long he stands under the spray. The only measure of time he has is Lance’s humming and the steam that slowly fills the shower.

Eventually though he forces himself upright, jaw set. He needs to wash off, needs to push through. He has been coddled enough — he is a grown man. He is a paladin of Voltron, whom others depend on for survival. What would they say if they saw him like this, struggling to wash himself, to move on his own? The faith in the universe’s strongest weapon would crumble in an instant. The fate of the universe would rest even heavier on Keith’s shoulders.

He counts to three in his head then forces himself to move, tried and true method. He catches Lance’s eye when he lifts his head, and Lance smiles at him. (He’s beautiful, all the time, but when he smiles he becomes for a moment the most stunning thing in the universe. Keith has seen so much of it and so he is sure.) He offers a weak smile back, because it’s almost impossible not to, and reaches around him for the shampoo bottle. For the third time that evening, Lance fingers wrap themselves around Keith’s wrist, stilling him.

“Let me,” he says again, and his voice is equally as quiet, equally as steady. “Let me help you.”

He holds Keith’s gaze and his expression is unreadable not because Keith can’t understand what emotion it conveys, but because it doesn’t fit, it isn’t right, what has Keith ever done to warrant that gentleness? What has Keith ever done to bring out such an intensity, such a single minded focus on taking care of Keith, as if he hasn’t been the one to care for himself his entire life? As if he isn’t the one who is meant to be doing the protecting, the caring? Keith is supposed to be strong. He is strong. He doesn’t need to be handled like strained glass, like the tip of a prince rupert’s drop, explosive under pressure. He can handle himself. He can.

“Please.” Lance’s grip loosens, slick anyway with soap, and he slides his fingertips down the palm of Keith’s hand, tracing small circles on the calloused flesh. “I want to.”

Keith makes a noise he’s never made before, a punched-out, hollow kind of sob. The last dregs of strength, of stubbornness that kept him standing, leave him. He slides to the floor, knees first and then they aren’t enough to hold him either. The tile is icy cold on his thighs, at direct odds with the heat of the water still raining hard down his back.

Keith starts to cry, and no amount of steam or water flow will hide it. The sobs and wails that rip their way out of his throat and chest are horrible, broken things, painful in the way they jerk him around, louder and more wretched than anything he’s ever sounded like before, ever. He knows he cried when he lost Shiro and he knows he cried when Shiro lost Adam and he knows he cried when he lost his Pa and a million times before and after. Keith has spent a lot of tears; they come when he’s frustrated or hurting or frightened and he hates the way they make him look small. But never has he ever clutched himself desperately together as hurt tears itself out of his lungs and burns his eyes, never has his body wracked with the effort of expelling this hurt from him.

He doesn’t understand where it’s come from.

The mission was fine.

There’s a click and a squirt, loud enough to be audible even over Keith’s cries. Seconds later Lance’s hands are in his hair again, fingers combing out the tangles, palms lathering soap deep into his roots. He takes his time to massage the soap deeply into Keith’s scalp, every so often moving his soap-covered hands to rub into his neck, his shoulders, his back. Over the course of Keith’s tears he hears the click of the bottle again and again as Lance moves to a different place in his body, spending careful amounts of time cleaning and caressing until the tightness in Keith’s muscles recede by pure loving force. Keith knows Lance is satisfied when his hands stray away for a moment and the stream of shower water is shifted, high-pressure stream shifting to feel more like the trickle of a creek, drizzling in rivulets down the dips and hills of his spine, his hips, his thighs. No soap ever stings Keith’s eyes, and soon the sound of Lance’s humming soothes some of the wound-up ache in his chest. The floral scent of the soap, of Lance’s soap, plays a part in the relief, too, a scent he has associated with security for longer than he has realised.

Soon Lance’s love is pressed into every inch of his skin, and the bonelessness laden in his body feels less like a sapping of energy and more like a moment of rest.

The steam still wraps warmly around Keith when the shower head turns off, and the weight of Lance’s hand on the wide expanse of his back is heavy and reassuring, rising and falling with each of his stuttered breaths. His finger traces a line across the base of Keith’s ribs and up the side of his chest, making him shiver, hugging the curve of his pectoral and travelling over the swell of his shoulder, running a line down Keith’s arms until it rests finally at the base of his wrist, where it circles once before linking around Keith’s pointer finger, tugging him gently to his feet, steady, and out of the shower. He stands eyes closed on the soft bathmat, water dripping steadily from his soaked hair, eyes burning from his tears and lips trembling.

Something soft and warm brushes against the curve of his ribs, tickling him slightly, making his muscles twitch and quiver. Lance drags the towel over his skin, mapping it in the same, slow, gentle way he washed it, soaking up the water and exchanging the wet towel for a new one three whole times before he finally gets to Keith’s hair. His fingers are deft then, too, digging the towel through his locks to squeeze out the water, pull it back from where it was stuck, soaked, to his skin.

Lance leaves the towel draped over his head as he begins to tug Keith out of the bathroom. Keith still has — he keeps his eyes closed, because he doesn’t think he can open them, because right now, he truly is fragile. He is tittering on the edge of somewhere he’s never been before, and he knows opening his eyes will send him careening over, and he’s not ready to fall quite yet. He trusts Lance to guide him, anyway.

Lance’s soft humming never breaks as he stands Keith in the middle of the room and then putters around; fabric rustling, more tubes and bottles clicking, some other sounds Keith can’t identify. When he comes back to Keith his hands are coated in something creamy and cool and fragrant, and he takes his time working the lotion into Keith’s skin like he did the soap; meticulous, fingers moving in small tight circles from area to area. He doesn’t miss a single square inch of Keith’s skin. By the time he finishes the stutter in Keith’s breath has faded and he’s steady, now, every time he inflates his lungs. He no longer feels the dried tear tracks on his cheeks.

He moves where Lance’s hands guide him, eyes still closed, stepping into soft pyjama pants and a loose t-shirt. When Lance pushes gently on his shoulders he sinks to the floor, feeling Lance settle on the bed behind him, leg on either side of him and fingers tilting back his head to rest against his stomach. He starts the comb at the end of Keith’s hair, carefully working through the thinner and more knotted pieces, before slowly making his way up to the roots and combing it all back. The drag of the teeth along his scalp is nice, but it’s nicer when Lance switches back to his hands, nails less abrasive and impersonal. He thinks Lance ties his hair back into a French braid, strands of hair pulled taut but not tight, not painful.

When Lance pulls gently on his shoulder, kindly asking him up, is when Keith finally finds within himself the strength to open his eyes, to fall, to careen off that edge. Lance is looking at him so lovingly, eyes dark as packed Earth, and inside them Keith melts and crumbles and rises again.

“Thank you,” he whispers, hoarse and crackling.

Lance smiles until crinkles form at the corners of his eyes. He cups Keith’s face in his hand and presses the softest of kisses to his lips, unexpectant and open and inviting. He pulls away but doesn’t go far.

“Of course,” he says, and it doesn’t escape Keith’s notice that he says it instead of you’re welcome, instead of no problem; of course, I will hold your weight, of course, I will help you remove your armour, of course, I will wash you, cleanse you, caress and anoint you. Of course, of course, of course. I would consider no other options. “I love you.”

You are not the first to love me, Keith thinks, impossibly, as he crawls into the sheets Lance has turned over for him, curls into him as Lance flicks off their lamp, tucks their sheets around them. He thinks of fathers and brothers and distant distant distant mothers, of teammates and father-uncle-figures and sisters and brothers, as Lance wraps his long arms around him, tucks his face into his neck. Keith thinks, No one has loved me like this.

“I love you too,” he says, pressing his lips to the hollow of Lance’s throat, and he thinks You are my centre of gravity. He thinks there is no weakness in the way he is loved. He thinks all he has left after being stripped to his soul is the strength Lance has wrapped around him.

He thinks he is so, so grateful, to love and be loved by Lance.

———

based on this post

[discordiansamba]

I do think the VLD fandom as a whole has a problem with wanting things in the series to stay stagnant. This is why it got so up in arms because characters (checks hand) went through character development. Like they're supposed to do. Which is a good thing. Could that development be clunky at times? Sure. We all know VLD's writing wasn't the best. But a character going through development and reasonably changing as a result of that isn't the character being OOC. They've just grown and changed.

[aro-paladin-pidge]

I feel like most of my problems with the characters of Lance and Hunk is that Lance got a lot of a little, and Hunk got a little of a lot.

[greyfix]

Children

Title: Children

Ship: Keith Kogane/Lance McClain

Summary: Keith and Lance are children with the weight of the world on their shoulders. At only 16 and 17 years old these children were made Paladins of Voltron, Blades of Marmora, Saviors of the Universe. Those weren’t titles meant for children.

Word Count:6.1k

Requested By: n/a

Warnings/Tags: Angst, Fluff, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Pining Lance, Lance is a mess, Insecure lance, Galra Keith, Keith is bad at feelings, Keith is a mess, Blade of Marmora Keith, Blade of Marmora, Naxzela, pining keith.

Author’s Note: listen, i know i never write anymore. But, shit happens you know? 

I’m taking requests and commissions again though so hopefully that will change, i have menus posted on my linktree. You can Instagram message me ( @greyfixx ) or email me (greyandemma@gmail.com) and i’d be happy to write your stories. Thanks guys!

Ao3, Tumblr

Lance wanders the castleship often now. He spends much more time walking around aimlessly than doing anything productive that’s for sure. Hunk and Pidge seemed as though they were always making some revolutionary advances. Always inventing something or tweaking something. Lance could never keep up. 

Allura seems as though she always has some diplomatic stuff to tend to with Shiro. If you asked Lance, he’d tell you that’s just an excuse so they can do whatever they do when they're alone. Plus, hanging out with Shiro is like, well it is, hanging out with your commanding officer. It’s hard for me to be comfortable.  He would hang out with Coran sometimes, helping with some of the castle maintenance. It almost reminded him of being back home doing the chores. He never thought chores would be something he missed. 

Still, when the lonely day was done,  he had to return to the cold sterile room. It was so lifeless. Despite the trinkets he’d collected from his travels strewn around the room, the lived in clutter, it still didn’t feel like his room, no matter how hard he tried. Pictures weren’t as prominent  in space, he’d noticed, at least not hard copies or for decoration in general. I guess they went completely digital a long time ago. So it wasn’t common for one to have photos of their family hung up around their homes. He wonders if people keep photos of their families outside of earth, or if it isn’t something people generally care about? For Lance, who’d spent his whole life surrounded by his siblings, it was so terribly lonely. Almost like living in a hospital room that never had a visitor.

So he slept in his cold white bed with his thin sheets and flat pillows. He wore his thin pajamas and the unreasonably comfy castle bathrobe. This was his new normal. His new home. He’s always been so grateful for his family, the original one, and the new ones he had created along the way. That’s what made him so sad, that he had a whole family here and he still felt alone. 

It wasn’t always like this. Lance suspected that they didn’t really have enough time to worry about it as things changed. Now, between battles, there is silence. What does the silence hold for the soldiers in the war? These are the thoughts that plagued Lance as he fell asleep.. There weren’t many sweet dreams on the other side of the unconscious curtain waiting for him. 

This is how he had felt since Keith had left. On the outside they seemed to be all bitter arguments, competitive bravado, and rivalry. They both knew though, that on the inside, they were closer than anyone else on the team. And that was their business. Their banter was just that, banter. It only takes a little bit of care to see the flirting smiles and friendly wrestling through the veil. When the fighting is done and it’s time for the brains behind the scenes, Keith and Lance learned to stay out of the way. They weren’t geniuses, or commanders, or Royalty. This wasn’t their job.

Each evening he spends longing for the company he wishes he had. He wishes for just one night things could be back the way they were. He wishes that if he does have to be lonely, he shouldn’t have to be the only one. . He considers it. He also considers the embarrassment of it. Calling the Blade of Marmora Headquarters to talk to his friend because he misses him? They’ll laugh and hang up. Probably give Keith shit for it, and i don’t want to mess things up for him. We’re soldiers. We’re supposed to be doing more with our time than talking to our friends on secure military lines.

He accepts his fate. 

Though it may be silent between battles, for those who are much more than soldiers it was time to make a lot of noise.. Building a good public image. Recruiting to the cause. Diplomacy, gaining allies. Creating a Coalition.. Coran had them traveling to a new planet each and every day putting on shows and meeting people. Selling Voltron. 

It wasn’t a big deal in the beginning. Just a script reading here and there, and Lance always loved Drama as a kid, so he was more than happy to comply. It felt like filming a cheesy TV commercial, and it was fun. Over time, as the audience got larger and larger, Coran got more intense. Their characters became perverted versions of themselves. Lance was now “Loverboy Lance.” He was nothing but a good looking airhead. There wasn’t anything more to him than his ability to get laid everywhere he goes. Because that’s all it takes to be a Paladin of Voltron, apparently. 

Coran had become increasingly erratic. He’s talking differently, and twitches everywhere he goes. He’s taking dangerous risks, not only with diplomacy but with their safety.

Lance was starting to believe that that’s who he was. Maybe he is the only one who hasn’t noticed yet. He isn’t anything but who they believe he is. Loverboy. What is a loverboy without love? Just a boy. Just a boy in a play. Just a boy with the weight of the world in his universe. Just a boy. Alone. In a hospital room. 

When Lance realized that the pressure of being a part of this war drove Coran to believe he needed a brain worm to do the right thing or to be good enough. Coran, the purest being on this ship, resorted to drugs to be as good as everyone else. Lance knew he was lonely too. He wanted it to stop, because though he didn’t care too much about himself, he certainly cared about his family. 

So Lance grew angry. He was so angry all the time that his family was diminished into nothing but comic book characters. His best friend is depicted as nothing other than comedic flatulence. Pidge rendered a fraud who uses fake words. They aren’t recognized as the amazing scientists they truly are. They should be. Keith. He made Keith all angry and lonely. Can’t he see, that’s not who Keith is. 

Keith has raw power and talent. He’s the potential to do something amazing for the world. He’s an anomaly and he is so important. There is no one more important than him. 

Lance is the one filled with anger and sadness and loneliness. 

Keith is hopeful. 

And things keep piling on. He is lonely. He is sad. He is angry. And Hope is gone. 

Laying on his gurney in his cold hospital room, in his magical alien castle, Lance picked up his space tablet and dialed the space number for the secret space soldiers. 

DIAL

Lance called the Blade of Marmora’s direct communications line. 

“State your Business.” Spoke a dark gravelly voice. 

“I’m Lance, Blue Paladin of Voltron. I’m calling to speak to Keith Kogane? The red Paladin of Voltron?” He was shaking. This is pathetic. How could he be doing this right now, there’s no way Keith would want to talk to him. He’s probably got a bunch of new muscle-y galra friends.  

“Should I provide you with his direct communications line?”

Lance froze for a moment. Why wouldn’t he be able to call Keith? Why would the Blade stop him from communicating with his Paladins? That would be ridiculous. “Um yeah, yes please, that would be great, um, yeah.” He stammered out in rapid succession. 

He rattles off a bunch of numbers and symbols that Lance makes sure to write down before speaking again. “Will that be all?” 

“Um yes, thank you so–” 

Beep. 

He hung up on me!!

Once he got over the scandal that was the rudeness of what could only be referred to as the ‘galra receptionist,’ he sat in silence for a while. He stared at the string of numbers and symbols. “Keith’s Direct Communications line.” He doesn’t really know what stopped him from getting it before. 

It wasn’t long before he typed the number into his tablet.

!0070/01812/12-12! → DIAL

!0070/01812/12-12! → DIAL

!0070/01812/12-12! → DIAL

He hit the flashing dial button before he could talk himself out of it.. Inter-Galaxy phone calls didn’t have a dial tone like on earth. There’s a loading screen. If the person you’re calling hasn’t answered by the time the circle is filled, the signal will be canceled and the call will drop. Messages can be sent as well but it wasn’t customary to have your tablet on you at all times, as it would be with a phone on earth. It’s more like having an I-Pad instead of a phone. If you really wanted a response it was best to call.

The circle is barely filled in when the screen explodes in color. It was Keith. His brows furrowed and lips pursed for a moment, until his eyes widened and his teeth showed. He smiled. That wasn’t at all what Lance was expecting.

“Hey, Keith. It’s been a minute.” His voice wavers as he speaks.

“No shit! Is everything okay? You’ve never called before-” he started to look concerned again. 

“No! No not at all…” He trailed off. He knew if he said this he would never hear the end of it, but he didn’t want to start the call on such a negative note. He went with what can be interpreted positively.. “I missed you man. It’s lonely around here when you’re gone.” 

Keith laughed. When he caught Lance’s eyes and realized that he wasn’t smiling with him, his face dropped. “You don’t mean that?” 

“Of course I do. Everyone here is so much smarter and more important than me. I hang around on my own most of the time.” 

“I thought I was supposed to be the lone wolf. You’re usually a social butterfly.” 

“Everyone’s so busy I don't want to bother them.” 

“Well I haven't changed from my lonely ways, so you must annoy me like the butterfly you are.” 

“...What?” Lance held back his laughter. 

“Shut up.” 

“The butterfly I am.” The smile seeped through and before he knew it the both of them had dissolved into hysterics. 

“Shut up. I missed you too. I don’t exactly fit in here.” 

Before Keith could get another ‘shut up’ out Lance teased,“Are you sure it isn’t just because you aren’t purple?” 

“I’m pretty sure that was a little bit space racist.”

Lance gasped. 

They talked for hours upon hours. They smiled and laughed until they felt their cheeks go raw and their abs get sore. They talked until their faces turned stoick and they had run out of good things to talk about. They talk until things get serious, and then they keep talking. 

Keith tells Lance how he feels worthless because he has always been a prodigy at the things the BoM excel at. The things that Earth doesn’t hold as honor the way the Galra do. Now, he’s nothing special. 

Lance tells Keith how he feels like he’s been deluding himself into thinking he belongs. He tells him how he doesn’t believe he’s a true Paladin, and that he’s probably just a placeholder for him or Allura. That the persona that the public has for him as ‘Loverboy’ is so entirely impossible because the only person he loves is so far away that he can’t even tell him that every day. 

They talk about how lonely they are. And they promise each other that though things can never be perfect, they will always keep each other company. 

However, as many hours as they wish they could spend together, everything comes to an end. Keith has private training early in the mornings and the Castleship will be landing in a different timezone. So for Lance, first thing in the morning is about 4 in the afternoon (If you think about earth time, measurements are fine and dandy in altean, but dates are hell.)  and he has to go straight to a diplomatic dinner party. 

They say their goodbyes, and part with smiles on their faces. 

When Lance turns over on his bed, his pillow is wet until the morning. Or 4 O’Clock in the alien planet’s evening He wakes up sore from his hiccupping breaths and dry from the salt on his skin. 

Keith on the other hand forces himself to fall asleep immediately. When he wakes up he throws himself into training. He doesn’t apologize to himself or anyone else for the extra bruises he cost that morning. Anyone who spoke to him was met with a scathing comment about their mother. Most stood clear of him that day. 

That night was too good to be true. 

They spend months in this circle of suffering. Each day they would spend in anticipation of the joy they would feel when they saw each other. By the time they are able to get on the phone, they can’t stop smiling. 

The joy lasts for a while. For a few hours. But every night the call has to end. Every night they have to say goodbye again. Every night they come crashing down from their high. They are hit with the weight of the various crises and the pressure only increases with the added emotions. At the end of the call, they have to say goodbye. Every night. 

And I can't even say I Love You.

For Lance, the worst part is that no one noticed. He spent his days finally in a better mood, and his friends weren’t phased. It was such a dramatic change, how could a friend not notice the smiles that had grown so scarce. How could they not notice the bags under his eyes were gone, and he was no longer covered in bruises from his early morning training bot sessions. He felt so much better yet to his friends it was as though nothing had changed. Or they didn’t care to notice. 

The Blade of Marmora was absolutely baffled by Keith’s change. Though Keith was much better at hiding it, he had learned in his months spent with the Blade that Galra rely on their sense of smell for this kind of thing much more than they would rely on their interpretation of body language. Pheromones change and there is nothing you can do about it. The Galra use it to communicate, though generally in passing the smell is like hearing the hum of conversation in a large crowd. 

He didn't notice it at first. He thought he was imagining the stares he could feel grazing the back of his neck. It took one of the other people in his training group giving him shit to realize it. 

“You need to learn how to keep your scent under control..” 

“... What?”

“You’re scent. We can all tell you’re excited or anticipating, or whatever, you don’t need to broadcast it, have a little control.” 

“What do you mean by my scent? You’re sniffing me??”

“Dude what?” 

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Ha ha very funny. Just keep it to yourself man.”” 

“Seriously, I have no clue what you’re talking about. I’m a little bit concerned because on earth we don’t exactly make a habit of smelling each other.”” 

“Earth?” 

“Yeah? Haven’t you noticed I'm not exactly purple?”

“I mean, yeah, but I didn't realize you were from the middle of nowhere. I’ve never even heard of that country.” 

“It’s a planet.”

Keith could tell that he is holding back his laughter now. 

“The Empire hasn’t gotten as far as my planet yet, so I didn't know I was part galra until very recently.  

“I don’t know if i’m the person to explain it to you, i don’t have the greatest understanding of it myself either.”

“Just tell me before someone else does.”

“I think it’s like pheromones? We can smell the hormones and the smell changes with your emotions.”

Keith sighed,  before stalking back off to his room. This was the first time he contacted Lance during the day. 

Keith: I just found out galra can sense pheromones. 

Lance: You wut?

Keith: Apparently depending on our emotions we smell different.

Lance: Can you? Smell emotions?

Keith: I never thought about it. I definitely smell a lot more than humans can. One of the Blades told me that most galra learn to control it. Maybe humans don’t emit strong enough pheromones for me to smell. 

Lance: Is it like, rude to have emotions? 

Keith: I wouldn’t be surprised. Galra never seemed like a race of emotionally sensitive people. 

There were invisible boundaries. To keep them from having too much hope, too much happiness. At first the boundary was just speaking to each other in general, because of course they couldn’t be happy together if they weren’t together. 

Lance, evidently, broke that one. Keith wished it were never there in the first place. 

Keith was the one to break the next boundary and Lance was overjoyed. He kept his tablet on him at all times, though he was careful not to let anyone see. He wanted to keep this to himself. Just for now. 

Each time he got a message from Keith, he had to force himself to not smile. It was becoming a problem. At least for a while. 

Soon, not only were the nights terrible, but the days became just as painful. The light drains out of the both of them as they no longer spend their days in excitement to speak to each other but in increasing agony over their distance. Their feelings for eachother grow larger and stronger. So strong that every moment they aren’t allowed to feel it hurts more. 

They lose the time to talk. The war is becoming back to back battles once again. Manpower is needed more than ever so not only is Voltron busy, but so is the Blade. The Coalition is a lot, but there is only so much. It’s difficult to organize universe wide diplomatic meetings, even for Allura.

The lows that follow leaving each other bleed into the days when no time can be found to speak. They bleed into the days where all that can be spoken of us ugly. The days of war. Of death. Of sacrifice. The days where the fight for freedom goes on and the soldiers grow weary. 

Still the same problems prevailed. Lance’s turmoil continued to go unnoticed. He continued to be invisible in his own home amongst his own family. 

Keith longed for his family. For Lance. He wished he could be with them. He wished so hard that it was very apparent to anyone who had a sense of smell worth their salt knew. He was now considered a flight risk. This he scoffed at. As if I’d leave all of you to die just to go home. That’s the catch. His love for his family and his refusal to allow lives to be lost to an empire as vial as Zarkons. He won’t abandon the war, not even for his own happiness. 

Then the day comes. There is a planet called Naxzela. It’s primarily a military outpost for the empire. If the Coalition is able to take and free Naxzela from Empire control, they will have gained control of a third of the Galran Empire. 

The entire Coalition is gathered, doing their best to stop the Empire, around a planet called Naxzela. They fight with everything they have. Every second, someone dies. Every second a ship falls from the sky, not only on their side, but on the Coalition's side as well. 

Voltron is on that planet. Keith’s family is on that planet. Lance is on that planet. Keith fights harder. Another ship drops from the sky. Another. Another. Another. Another. 

Voltron returns. Alive. That’s the good news though, an when it comes to war, it never outweighs the bad. They come back with information. They say the planet had been habitable only because of Altean terraforming technology. Haggar had tapped into this technology and turned the planet into a bomb. The battleship is the detonator. Both the planet and the ship are protected by shields. 

The whole Coalition opens fire. 

Not a scratch. 

“Maybe not with our weapons.” 

Keith takes off, dodging the lasers he soars directly towards the battleship. If our weapons can’t take down the shields, we need something more. The full force of a Blade of Marmora fighter ship just might work. 

If i don’t succeed we will all die. At least this way only one of us is gone. At least this way the pain will go away. 

He didn’t close his eyes as he approached his death. He wasn’t afraid. He knew this was the right thing to do. He chose this, he would not shy away from it. So he looked right at the thin purple glow that would be the end of him. He stared and confronted his death. The veil blinked out of existence.

He jerked the ship away and went sailing just by the edge of the ship. He had stopped listening to the commotion on his audio comm. It was time to tune back in. 

Lotor. 

Lotor had saved his life. 

After the battle, Keith finally was able to return to the Castleship. To return home. Immediately when he steps off his ship a force knocks into him and he nearly topples him over. It’s so warm. He can smell him. He really is home. 

“You fucking idiot!” Anyone could tell that Lance is screaming, despite the fact that he’s muffled by Keith’s shoulder. “How dare you.” 

Keith doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know which words to choose. He is so happy and so sad. So he is quiet. 

He is quiet and so is Lance as they walk to the infirmary. They ignore the aftermath of the battle. They ignore the Paladins, the rebels, the Blades. They ignore anyone trying to get their attention. Hand in hand, they are the silence between the battles. Lance's eyes are soft when the pod closes. Keith is glad that is the last thing he sees before falling into a deep sleep. 

It is three days before he leaves the pod. Lance waits there in the infirmary the whole time. Coran says that most of his injuries weren’t from the battle. There were minor bruises, sprains, even some fractures from weeks past littered across his body. 

Lance waits for three days and he doesn’t say a word to anyone besides Coran when he’s questioning after Keith’s progress.  Even then his speech is limited. This is when his family finally notices they’ve missed something. 

Over these three days Lance practically moves in. One of the gurneys is claimed as his. The white floors are littered with the tissues he hasn’t bothered to pick up. The bowls and spoons he used for the occasional food goo have created a pile in the corner. There are five blankets. Two on Lance’s gurney (he’d always thought they were too thin) and three laying on the floor just by Keith’s pod. One to lay on, two to keep him warm when he sleeps on the cold white metal. 

He spent a lot of time thinking, while he waited. He thought about a lot of things. Mainly how he almost lost Keith. He almost lost Keith before he was even able to tell him how he truly feels. He spent a lot of this time regretting. He regretted not telling him the most. They both knew. They knew their lives were on the line and they made that their reason to live in fear. They chose that as their reason to not take responsibility for themselves, their reason to run from their own feelings, their reason to punish themselves.

This is war. Lance realized. This is war, and I am brave enough to be fighting it. I should be allowed to love before I die.. Especially if I'm risking my life for theirs. To make sure they don’t have to. If I die out here I don't want to die in regret, never having lived my truth. 

The fourth morning he laid awake on his blankets staring up at Keith. He didn’t look ill at all anymore. He must be almost completely healed by now, he looked just like the Keith that had left. Almost. He had grown taller, his hair had gotten longer. He joked about it being a mullet before, but now it was more than long enough to be braided. He wished he could, it was something he did for his sisters back home. 

His thoughts are interrupted when he hears the electronic schwooop of the pod-shield lowering. He doesn’t have time to get up on his feet before Keith is toppling down. 

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” Lance says immediately, when Keith falls into his arms. He holds him tightly. It isn’t long before Keith does the same. They both know that Coran and Allura would have been alerted to Keith’s discharge from the pod and would be heading down to check on him. They took the time they had alone to hold onto each other. 

“Is this real?” Keith asks, his voice is so meek. So thin and quiet. 

“Yes, my love. This is real. I’m here. You’re safe.” 

Keith melts into Lance's arms. “I’m home?” 

“You’re home.” 

They hear footsteps outside the infirmary door before they see anyone. They aren’t surprised to see the whole team walk in. They would all want to see Keith when he was better. Lance wasn’t the only one who had missed him. He was family.It would be wrong if they didn’t want to see him after the stunt he’d pulled either.  

Shiro is the first to stalk into the room, with his big muscular body and his big powerful steps. “What the hell is going on here Lance? You’ve been uncollaborative and disrespectful for long enough. It ends now.” He shouts in his best commanding officer voice. 

Keith flinches. Lance squeezes him for a moment, before standing up. “You lost your right to give me orders. If i’ve been ‘uncollaborative and disrespectful’ then it’s obviously been a long time since you’ve looked in a mirror. Especially when your reaction to seeing your brother for the first time in months fall out of a pod because he nearly killed himself.” 

Shiro opens his mouth to speak only to be cut off. This time it is Coran. 

“I think he’s right, Shiro.” His voice is tense and serious. This never happens. “Let the boy speak.” 

Lance almost smiled. It seemed, recently, that Coran was the only one who truly cared. At the very least, he understood. 

“Keith almost dies, and your reaction when he comes out of a pod, three days later probably still coming down from an adrenaline high not only from his near death experience but from the drugs that pod pumped him full of. Your brother comes home from zero contact and your reaction is to storm in and make demands?” Lance speaks to his family. He speaks to his family in a situation other than battle for the first time in weeks. Months. “You really think you’re the one who deserves answers?” 

Lance kneels next to Keith once again. “You need food, water, and to relax.” His voice was soft now. “Do you want to go back to the bedrooms and wait for me there?”

Keith stands up. “I’m going to stay here. With you.” Same old Keith he sounds like. Only Lance could hear the slight quiver in his voice. 

“Lance?” Hunk spoke, concerned, “Buddy, what’s going on? What are we missing?” 

Lance almost laughed. It was a surprise to him. He hadn’t smiled without Keith in a long time. This wasn’t the context he wanted that to happen under. “What have I been doing?” He said decidedly.

Hunk looked confused. 

“What do you mean by that?” Pidge. 

“These last few months. What. Have. I Been. Doing>”

“The same as the rest of us.” Pidge spoke in that matter of fact way of hers.

“Yeah, you helped with the performances. You're loverboy Lance!”

“Exactly. I was Loverboy Lance. That explains so much.” Lance decides that they won’t ever realize on their own. He must open their eyes himself. He must be the one to hurt them. “When have you ever seen me do more than flirt with someone? When was the last time I went home with one, or brought one here? Hell, when was the last time I went on a date?” 

Silence. 

“I flirt. I sign autographs, I joke, and I tease. I have never been a player. I’ve never been Loverboy Lance, not in the way we showed the public. That’s not who I am. Just the same as any of you. Hunk, you are so much more than comedic flatulence, Pidge you aren’t a fraud you’re a genius and you know enough words to fill the script with that the audience will go home knowing how to turn their garbage disposal into a roomba. Allura, you’re your own Paladin, not Keith and there are so many amazing things about you that would make you just as interesting as Keith. 

“Keith isn’t the Lone Wolf. He’s just lonely, he always has been. None of us ever pur in the effort to change that, so why would he in return?” Lance turned to Hunk. “You were my best friend, Hunk, and this hurts so much. It hurts so much to know that you can’t see me for who I really am. I look at all of you and see my family and then I wonder, where did you go?” 

“I spent these last few months in Silence. I knew I wasn't good enough to keep up with you Pidge, Hunk. So I stayed away. I knew I would never live up to your expectations, Shiro, so I didn't bother with you either. I knew you didn’t want me around Allura, so I didn't stick around. I knew i would be left behind. 

“Eventually I stopped speaking.”

Lance stopped then. He took a deep breath. “None of you noticed. My own family had made me feel as though I didn't belong, and so I stopped belonging. Of course you guys were so caught up in being amazing that you didn’t notice. That much I don't care about. This is what is important. 

“How old are you, Pidge?” 

“I’m fifteen, you know that.” 

“Hunk?”

“17.” 

“Back on earth, none of us would be considered an adult. We wouldn’t be allowed to go through the airport alone. We wouldn’t be allowed to buy alcohol. We wouldn’t be allowed to have an input in our government. We would be children. 

“Here, on this ship, far away from our planet. We are war heros. We live in a castle that doubles as a spaceship, or a spaceship that doubles as a castle, and we are Paladins. We fight in battles on a larger scale than any one of our ancestors have ever fought in. We are soldiers.” 

Lance could feel the tears streaming down his face. “More importantly though, we are children.” 

Lance stalked out of the room. 

Keith followed. Even when he’d caught up, Lance didn’t slow down. He was sobbing now. Just like he had each night when they ended their calls. This time, however, Keith was there. This time he could intertwine their fingers. “Lance.” 

When they finally arrived at Lance's bedroom, hospital room, whichever you prefer it’s all the same to him,they both sat up on the bed. Keith held Lance as he cried. He cried and cried and cried and cried. They didn’t know how long they’d been there, but it didn’t truly matter. What did matter was that they were together. Between the sobs Keith could hear Lance mumble something just clearly enough to respond. 

“I love you too.” 

Lance looked up, those deep blue eyes so sad and so afraid, yet so full of hope. He looked intensely at Keith. “We are just children, I did mean what I said back there. We could die at any moment. I don’t want to let that stop us anymore.” 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“I love you Keith, and I don't want to live my life in fear of losing you. I want to use the time we have. This war would last the rest of our lives, whether they end early or decades from now. Why should we waste it?” 

Keith had never thought of it that way. He had let the thought of losing Lance consume him so deeply that he’d never thought of how it might feel to have him fully. “You’re right.” 

“I want to be with you. At this point I think it’s hurting us more to stay apart than it would to be together. Well I guess it’s hurting me, I can't really speak for you – Wait what did you say?” 

“I said you’re right. We should take advantage of the time we have.” 

Lance was speechless. 

“If you leave your mouth open any longer you might catch flies. I told you you were right, don’t get used to it.” 

Lance had been a man of words all night. He was sick of it. He grabbed onto Keith’s jawline and pulled his lips toward his own. He was so warm, like fire against his skin as they kissed. They’d been playing this game for so long. The kiss was the greatest thing Lance had ever experienced, or at least it felt like it in that moment. They kissed for a long time. Longer than they should. 

It was Keith that finally broke the kiss. He only broke away for a moment, before burying his face in Lance’s shoulder. 

“We have to talk about it, you know.” 

“Not now. You make me so happy. I just want to be happy right now. It’s been so long since I've been happy.”

“That’s okay. You’re allowed to be happy. That’s our mission from now on. Happiness.” 

They spent the night in Lance's room. They took their last opportunity to relax. After everything that has happened, not only over the course of the last few hours, but over the course of the last few days, weeks, months. They deserve peace, even if only for a moment. 

The next morning they walked out to breakfast hand in hand. They had a calm conversation with their team. With their family. They spoke about how they felt so alone. They spoke about how they’ve spent so long being too afraid of  death to love each other. They spoke about how they are so scared all the time, but never scared for themselves. They would all die for the cause at a moment’s notice, but they still feared the death of their friends and family. 

Everyone shared how they felt, not only Lance and Keith. Pidge shared how scared she was. She was so young. Hunk shared how he felt so guilty for being the cowardly one, and wishes he could be brave like the rest of the Paladins. Allura tells them how she believes that she is only a Paladin because of her father, as though it was some sort of obligation. Shiro expressed that he was so afraid he wasn’t qualified to be the leather of a universal revolution. Coran worries he isn’t useful. 

They all feel so alone. So isolated that they couldn’t find comfort in their own family. 

They came to an understanding. Allura and Shiro, and Coran realized they were wrong for putting so much pressure on a bunch of teenagers that didn’t know what they were getting into. Keith, Lance, Hunk, and Pidge all realized that they didn’t have to pretend to be braver than they were. 

Especially because they were the bravest in the universe. 

Even war heroes are allowed to have a weakness. 

Especially if they’re children.

[corruptedplaylist]

fic update in the form of langst character study

hi are u a former/current fan of voltron: legendary defender that was disappointed with lance's overall (lack of) character development within the show and felt that there could have been more to explore like his family life, identity as a queer-coded man, and his deep insecurities?

hi have you ever returned to your hometown and your childhood home and realized that everything around you is different and changing and the people around you are moving on and nothing will stay the same and you're having a hard time reconciling with the grief of change and growing up and navigating the landscape that is family dynamics and transitioning into being an adult?

omg that's crazy— read my fic.

lol jk but icymi, chapter 11 and 12 are going to be character-centric. chapter 11 is solely dedicated to lance and exploring his fear of being left behind/not good enough, his relationship with his dad, and his relationship with his siblings. chapter 12 will be focused on keith.

taking a bit of a step back from the group shenanigans at college for the next 2 chapters but i really enjoyed writing lance's section and getting to know him as a character, and i hope you all do as well :)

pls check it out!