#lance angst

[autisticlancemcclain]

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing.”

Vaguely, Lance registers that he’s far too loud, that his dead-of-night shout has people peeking out their doors, rubbing groggy eyes. He knows he should tone it down and handle this gracefully and he meant to, thought about it in the hour or so he spent crouched but his door, waiting, straining his ears for the sound of Keith’s silent footsteps, convinced something would go down tonight.

Correct.

Keith jumps, duffel bag slipping off his shoulder and thumping as it hits the floor. He whirls around to meet Lance’s eyes and the shock melts quickly into stubbornness, into something defensive and irritated.

“Go back to bed, Lance,” he says evenly, and Lance envisions punching him. Lance envisions gripping the sleeve of his jacket and holding him in place. Both visions fight for standing ground in his mind, blurring into each other. His fists curl at his sides and he has to hold himself back, physically, root himself in place.

He thinks about saying, I know you’re afraid.

He thinks about saying, you will always have a place here.

He thinks about saying, please don’t leave me.

He says, “You’re running,” and it comes out sharp and accusatory, and there is a hiss from somewhere beside them, quick inhale through the teeth, but the world feels narrow, blurry around the edges, and Keith is the only one in focus, the only one Lance can see.

Keith’s face drops into something menacing, something as flat as it is furious, something familiar and almost comforting.

“Coward,” Lance spits before he can say anything. The cruelty of the words leaves a bitter taste in his mouth and he relishes in it, sucking it off his teeth.

He watches as Keith’s shoulders shift, an aborted lunge, as his chest inhales and exhales with a measured and practice breath. Watches as he calms himself, visibly, yanks himself back from the edge. Lance prepares to yank him right the hell back.

(Anything to keep him from going. To distract him, enrage him, occupy him.)

(Anything to make him stay.)

“You don’t know a goddamn thing about me,” Keith says, angry and short, less fiery than Lance expected, more controlled than he’s ever seen.

Lance panics. Keith tears his eyes away and bends down, wrapping his hand around the forgotten duffel bag strap, swinging it back over his shoulder. He turns and walks — stomps — away, heading down the hall, towards the hangars. Leaving.

Lance loses control of his mouth. A sound fights its way out of his throat, something croaking and furious and desperate, and like a cork shooting off a champagne bottle there is nothing he can do to stop what comes next.

“Your voice cracks when you lie.”

The anger has practically fled from his voice. In its place is pleading, begging, vulnerable. He chokes it back and tries to swallow and it does nothing, it bubbles out of him, spilling down his face and dripping onto the floor and soaking his bare feet, the ankles of his silk pajama pants. It comes all the way back up to his neck and chokes him, instead.

Keith freezes.

The champagne keeps bubbling.

“You — duck your head when you smile. And when you’re confident you snap your fingers on your left hand. When you read you mouth along to the words, except when you get really into a book, which is always, and then you stop. You always end up hiccuping after you eat because you fucking — hoover them back, you animal.“

Lance sniffles. The lump in his throat gets harder and harder to speak around, but the urge didn’t go away, the intense need to spill his guts, to slice himself open and spill at the ground by Keith’s feet.

Stay. Stay. Stay.

“You’re not as elusive as you think, you fucker.”

He forces himself to stop, then, bites his tongue until he tastes blood, until the words stop flowing. He inhales big and long and holds it, lets the air go stale in his lungs, lets his heart start to pound.

“I want to go,” Keith says, back still turned.

His voice cracks on ‘want’.

Lance gasps an exhale. “You’re a fucking liar.”

Keith’s turn is slow, and Lance can’t help but think it’s on purpose. To torture him, to test him. To say I don’t believe you. To say when I turn back you’re going to break character.

It’s heartbreaking, a little. And the heartbreak is written all over Lance’s face, and he watches as Keith sees it.

“You saw the problem first,” Keith argues, weakly. Lance hears what he doesn’t say: I’m leaving or else you’ll have to.

And Lance knows he was the one to go to Keith with his pinky finger extended and wide worried eyes. He knows he was the one who planted the idea of leaving in Keith’s head, never meaning for him to be the one to go but expecting him to try anyway. He knows he’s the one who’s standing here, in the middle of the hallway, arguing around the subject, half-conscious of his friends’ stares, their acknowledgment that more is being said than just their words.

And Lance shoves that all back, and says: “I told you I’d be your Red.”

Paladin. Your Red Paladin. But the words don’t come all the way out.

Keith swallows. “I know.”

“I won’t be anyone else’s.”

“…I know.”

Lance’s hands shake. “So you can’t leave me, you motherfucker.”

The duffel drops to the floor again. This time it’s intentional. This time it’s shoved off Keith’s shoulders.

He takes three great strides forward, grasping Lance’s face in his perpetually burning hands, and shoves their lips together, bruising.

“If I leave then the math checks out,” he whispers, pulling back, eyes closed, breathing heavy. His forehead is pressed to Lance’s like he can beam his thoughts into his brain.

Lance sighs. “If you leave I’ll follow.” His eyes flutter shut. “You goddamn suck at math.”

Keith snorts. “A little.”

“Stop trying to fix my problems without me.”

“It’s — I want to. Fix your problems.”

“I want you here.”

“…Okay.”

“Promise me, Keith.”

“Okay,” Keith says again, quieter. “I’ll stay, Red.” He kisses Lance again and this time it’s soft, loving instead of desperate. “I’ll stay.”

———

animatic by @jiveyuncle

[freckled-moss]

Langst be upon ye

[awhoreintheory]

you are here / part 2

This is assuming, of course, there's a home to return to <3

[mylifeisfruk4ever]

Klance Time Loop Au

Lance dies. Sometimes it's the Galra's fault, sometimes it's his own teammates' fault. But even if there are slight differences in how, the blue paladin always dies. And Keith is the only one who remembers. But he only remembers later, when Lance is dying. Keith vows that next time will be different, but he continues to make mistakes, some more unforgivable than others.

On the twelfth loop, on the way back to Earth, Keith accidentally accesses some videos in the Black Lion. Videos made by him, in the previous loops, and a warning: if this time he doesn't save Lance, the paladin's death will be definitive.

@astralscrivener what do you think of it?

[danceylancey]

Lance Tattoo ideas: (CW: fair bit of angst)

Ocean waves or horizon : across one should and or arm, across back

Octopus : going up thigh or wrapped around bicep

Spine bone: across spine (obviously) (reasoning: Someone once called him spineless, maybe a teammate, so he got one tattooed as a way to be like ‘fuck you whats this then’)

Heart: a little heart shape on his thumb for his mother, maybe with her initials in it

Fool tarrot card or jester: for he is the fool and the role of the fool is to fill those around him, though maybe he doesn’t realise that when he gets it.

“Give me breed and call me a fool.” A Spanish saying meaning it doesn’t matter what others think of you if you’re still getting what you want.

Bullets raining down/gun fire : across shoulder going down

Tear drop: maybe for blue or it was just a stick and poke he did himself when thinking about his loneliness

Voltron symbol : blue behind back, ear or ankle or all lion colours in respective places

Sunflower: maybe it reminds him of his mum or his home in Cuba

“Al Mal Tiempo, Buena cara.” Translated: “when the going gets tough, the tough get going” : maybe along his ribs or over his heart

Half a butterfly: for his twin, with her having the opposing half, maybe on his wrist or forearm so they can line them up

A target or cross hair: for his sniping love and skills, maybe on his tiger finger or over his heart

A little orange heart: for Coran, probably on his wrist so he can see it easily

Any kind of flower for the Frida Kahlo quote “I paint flowers so they will not die”

A turtle: for Hunk. It means family to Islanders and that’s what Hunk is to him

[future-mr-red-lion]

The audio

“I’m not in love with you anymore,

i didn’t know you ever were”

fits kLance because imagine this.

Keith and Lance started getting pretty close before Keith left for BOM, Lance was ready to confess to Keith almost, he came to terms with how he felt. And when Keith left to leave space for Lance on the team, Lance thought it was because he knew how much Lance loved him and that he loved him the same. (He did of course). I mean just look at lances face in the scene where Keith leaves, it is so understanding and he’s the only one who really sees that Keith is trying to help, but after long nights, days and battles without Kieth, he realised he had to move on. He made himself like allura even more, and tried to prove it to everyone. So when Keith saw Allura and Lance ‘happy’ while he was in the abyss, he probably started to think that Lance didn’t ever like him. So when Kieth returns from BOM, Lance thinks that Keith thinks that Lance is still in love with him, so instead of just saying he’s dating allura he says

Lance: I’m not in love with you anymore (assuming Keith already knew)

Keith: I never knew you were ( realizing that if he never left maybe Lance would have been with him)

Now Lance is left feeling guilty and Keith feels like he lost something he thought could never be his. That’s why they stop standing right next to eachother all the time, and that’s why they just continue as friends liek in season 2 but not season 3. (In season 3 there was some mega hints, they were getting closer to liking eachother). They even go back to their rivalry.

And when Keith is about to go get axca, Lance is so worried cause he’s not sure if Keith knows that Lance still loves Keith, but he just can’t be IN love with Keith. He wants Keith to know that he doesn’t want to lose him again, and that he still matters.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk, grammar sucks, and I am crying while writing this so stfu

[wogwoman]

LANGST IDEA:

A situation where somehow all of the paladins have their worst insecurities and aspects personfied. Like a clone of them but all the bad parts

Pidge’s is wearing a ‘Sporting Coach’ outfit as it scream at her to HURRY UP AND FIND YOUR FAMILY ALREADY GO GO GO THEYRE PROBABLY DEAD RN BECAUSE YOURS SO SLOW

Hunk’s is magnetic somehow, and is forcing Hunk away from even the tiniest thing that scares him.

Keith’s is a feral galra, wild with pure RAGE

Shiro’s is normal, except has hundreds of thousands of pounds tied onto his back, and keeps managing to climb onto Shrio’s back.

But Lance’s is just, a normal clone? At first its hard to tell who’s the clone, because when he’s around the real Lance looks just as mirserable as the other paladins do with their clones. But after a while it clicks:

Lance’s clone is so similar to the real Lance, because the real Lance hates everything about himself.

I’m not sorry :)

[the-kittens-of-vol-tron]

LAMCE CRYING AFTER RECEIVING HIS FIRST FORM OF POSSITIVE REINFORCEMENT FROM AN ADULT AND HE DIDNT GET ANY AS THE YOUNGEST CHILD SO HE COVERED IT UP WITH FALSE BRAVADO

MY BOYYYYY THIS HITS CLOSE TO HOMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

-----

"Mama mama mama!!!!" Lance ran into the room where his mom was sitting, holding up a piece of paper. "Look what I did!" He held up his math test from the day before, presenting a 90% written in red at the top.

His mom grabbed the paper, looking at the grade and the answers he got wrong. "90 isn't bad. Make sure you review the answer you got wrong and make sure you understand it okay?” 

Lance took the paper back from his mom, "okay mama."

---

Lance gripped his color pencil tighter, he hated shading colors, it was by far his least favorite lesson in art class. He looked at the picture he was drawing, it was an attempt at a sunset. The yellow and orange were not blending nicely, it was an abrupt change. Not what the teacher wanted. 

“How are you doing Lance?” The older person leaned over him, their eyes scanning his paper. 

Lance sighed, “not good. I can’t get them to blend smoother.” 

His teacher hummed, “don’t be so aggressive when you hold your pencils. Start over if you can’t blend it out. Okay?” 

Lance nodded, dropping the pencil on the desk, “okay.” 

---

“CONGRATULATIONS VERONICA!!!” Lance pulled on the confetti popper in his hand, noisemakers and other confetti flying into the air. 

The entire family was back in the childhood home, congratulating Veronica on her acceptance to the Garrison. 

Veronica was grinning from ear to ear as she moved around the party, not even making it two steps before she was stopped by somebody to talk. 

“I’m going to get into the Garrison. Just you watch,” Lance held onto his plastic cup tightly as he watched his sister. 

“Get your grades up son, it takes dedication to get into that school.” 

Lance stared down into his cup, “okay papa.” 

---

“Do I need to remind you that the only reason you’re here is the best fighter pilot in your class got upset and flunked out?” Iverson leaned down in front of Lance, his voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard.  

Lance swallowed around the lump forming in his throat; trying to ignore the sting burning behind his eyes. 

“Get out of my sight. And bond with your team!” 

Lance borderline bolted out of the room. Hiding under a pile of bedsheets on his bed, he wanted to go home. He couldn’t make it here. 

---

Lance moved through his life with a smile on his face and his shoulders squared back. He made sure to never let his negative emotions be the main focus of his outward appearance. 

He was an over-the-top flirt, shooting his shot whenever he could. He was constantly smiling, cheering people along, and being his happy-go-lucky self. 

He didn’t let people see the small frowns that formed on his face when he was given advice on how to do something better. He didn’t let anyone see the tears that fell in the shower as he tried to rationalize that he had a place in the world and he contributed to things. 

He didn’t let anyone see the side of him that wasn’t his fake confidence or him smiling through everything. 

Being part of Voltron was good for him. They really were a good team. And Lance got complimented, usually by being grouped with the team but it was still nice to hear “good job” from someone that wasn’t Hunk or his age. 

Lance stared down the scope on his rifle, slowly moving it as his target paced back and forth. The entire mission relied on this shot. 

If he missed the entire ship would be alerted and they would be in an all-out battle. If he succeeded, no one would be alerted and Pidge and Keith could slip in undetected. 

He took a deep breath, holding it in his lungs as he double-checked his aim. He quickly released his breath, his finger squeezing the trigger at the same time. 

A muffled shot rang through the air and his target collapsed onto the ground; unmoving. 

Lance took another breath, trying to shake the nerves from his body. “Got him.” 

“Good job Lance, I knew you could do it.” Shiro’s voice crackled through his helmet. “Pidge, you and Keith need to start-” 

Lance tuned his leader out. His portion of the mission was done, he simply needed to wait for Allura or Shiro to come get him when they had a chance. 

He felt the tears on his face before he realized he was crying. It was slight at first. One swipe from the back of his hand and his face was cleared. But the tears kept falling. 

He wasn’t sobbing but no matter what he did he couldn’t stop himself from crying. I finally did something right. He slumped down against the wall he was camped out by, letting his gun rest on the ground beside him. I did something right. 

The black lion landed in front of him a couple of minutes later and Lance picked up his things before entering the lion. 

“How did the mission go?” Lance prayed Shiro didn’t hear how his voice cracked on the words. That he didn’t realize he was crying only a couple of minutes ago. 

“Success.” Shiro began to pilot his lion back towards the castle, Lance sitting on a seat in the back. 

Lance exited the lion, he knew everyone else was waiting on the bridge but before he could make his way up Shiro's hand was on his shoulder. 

“Lance, I just wanted to say again, good job out there today. We seriously could not have done that without you.” 

Lance bit his lip, keeping his eyes trained on the ground and his back to his leader. “Don’t mention it.” 

Shiro's hand loosened slightly, “is everything okay?” 

Lance nodded his head, clearing his throat as he wiped his eyes, “yeah. Just tired.” 

“Lance.” Shiro stepped around him so they were face to face. As soon as he realized his teammate was crying his eyes widened with concern. “Is everything okay? Are you hurt? I can call Coran to ready a pod.” 

Lance shook his head, “no I’m okay. I didn’t get hurt.” 

Shiro’s expression calmed down some, but he still held a certain persona. “I’m here if you need to talk Lance.” 

“It’s fine, I just.” Lance took a deep breath, trying to stop more tears from falling. “Something you said made me emotional.” 

Shiro frowned, “I didn’t mean to hurt you or-” 

“No, you didn’t hurt me.” 

“Okay,” Shiro’s tone was laced with confusion, he clearly didn't understand what was happening. 

“Sorry,” Lance wiped his eyes again, “no adult has ever said I did a good job before so it was weird to hear. Nice but weird.” 

Shiro frowned at him before his face shifted into a smile. “Well, you are a valuable member of our team. And our sharpshooter, I don’t know where we would be without you.” 

More tears formed in Lance’s eyes, “Jesus Shiro stop.” 

Shiro pulled him in for a hug, “you’re doing great.” 

Lance found himself reciprocating the hug, had he hugged Shiro before? Really just Hunk and Pidge. “Thank you.” 

-----

So uhhhh idk if this is good or not but I really needed some Shiro and Lance interaction 

I hope you like it!!

Thank you <3333

[windybreeze12]

Langst is beautiful. I mean come on, we were robbed of his character development in the original show obviously and all the stories and artwork depicting Lance's inner demons and turmoil??? Mwah, it's beautiful. Bonus points if Keith helps him get through his battles because of course.

[zenithpng]

“I know,” Keith says, voice hardly a whisper, though he doesn’t. “It’ll be okay,” even though it won’t. And Lance just trembles against him, a boy coming to terms with the fact that he will never see his mother again, a child coming to terms with his own death.

Lance is only dead for a moment.

A lot can happen in that time.

[icypantherwrites]

Fic Update: Missing, Chapter Four

Chapter Snippet:

Hunk’s fingers resumed their gentle carding as Lance stirred, almost as though he’d heard that last thought, before settling at the touch.

Hunk’s lips pulled into a sad smile.

When was the last time he’d sat with Lance like this? When was the last time they’d really talked? It’d been a while, he knew that much. And maybe that was what Lance needed. It was something at least Hunk could control. He wouldn’t talk to Shiro without Lance’s permission — and Lance would never give it, he wouldn't want to call attention, would say just as he had at the market that Shiro was right and Hunk didn’t want Lance beating himself up over it — but he could talk to Lance, let Lance know he was here for him.

Telling him that outside the bridge, that Lance was important, had garnered dark cheeks and considering Lance was the most openly affectionate person Hunk knew, not shy to say ‘I love you,’ or pull someone into a hug or seek contact, it only told him how much he’d dropped the ball of late that such a simple declaration had resulted in that reaction.

It also told him how truly tired Lance was, and not just from lack of sleep.

The fact his worry had been laundry of all things made Hunk’s stomach clench because while he knew Lance did chores to help Coran, he was starting to wonder how many chores exactly Lance was doing and what his free time consisted of. There used to be movie nights and video games (Hunk watching, Pidge and Lance playing), and quiet times like this on the couch where Lance napped or played with Pidge’s hair and more team dinners that resulted in conversations afterward and stories and sometimes this Altean card game Coran was still trying to teach them but the rules seemed to change every round and none save Pidge seemed to be able to keep track.

But Hunk couldn’t remember when they last did those things.

Read it Here

(up to chapter two on AO3)

[autisticlancemcclain]

Beast.

That’s how everyone describes him. Town to town, village to village, whispered voices describing Prince Keith’s roaring temper and snarling fury. The manners of a lone wolf and attitude of an angry grizzly bear, those are the rumours. He’s vile, he’s mean, he’s ugly and horrible and rude.

And Lance is supposedly engaged to the asshole.

To be wed.

Is this really what he has to look forward to, in life? Trading himself away for his future husband's riches, essentially? A life of luxury and opulence in exchange for his soul? He might as well make a deal with the devil. He might be able to stay at home, then.

“We’re here,” Marco says softly. He pulls on the reins, stopping Blue – the McClain's horse – in front of the impossibly tall iron gates. He swings off the saddle, landing soundly on his feet before reaching up a hand to help Lance.

Lance snarls at him, heaving himself off himself and stepping away from his brother, busying himself with stroking Blue’s broad, soft nose.

“Lance,” Marco tries, sighing heavily. “C’mon. I know it’s not…ideal, but it’s a castle, right? I know you’ve always wanted to live in a castle.”

Lance grits his teeth, keeping his back to his brother. Rage makes his hands shake and clench where they’re wrapped around Blue’s mane, so he forces himself to relax.

“You don’t know anything about what I want. None of you do. None of you care enough to know.”

“Lance, stop it. You have to know that none of us wanted this –”

“There are four things I know, brother,” Lance spits, finally turning to face him. Marco starts at the anger in Lance’s expression, the vitriol in his tone. Lance stalks forward, and Marco takes a small step back on reflex. “I know that the town gathered to choose one young person to be engaged to the prince, as is custom.”

He takes another step, but this time Marco stays where he is.

“I know that every single person in the town, man and woman and child, made their vote.”

He takes one final step, milimeters between him and his brother, jabbing his finger into his chest. Marco remains where he stands, face stony.

“I know that there are nine other people besides me in my family. And I know that there were only three people in the entire village who didn’t vote for me.”

Finally his face crumples, anger finally giving way to the pain churning in his chest.

“I know that six of you at least decided I wasn’t worth keeping. And for that, you’re all dead to me.”

Marco says nothing. His face remains impassive, not even a glint of sympathy or even pity in his eyes. Nothing but stoicism. Lance thinks of how his mother had already had a bag packed for him when the results of the lottery were made public, how she wouldn’t look him in the eyes. How his father wasn’t even home to see him off. How he wasn’t allowed to see his niece and nephew one final time. How he heard his siblings arguing over who would have to escort him to the castle, how Marco had drawn the short straw.

His heart hardens in his chest. He averts his eyes, wiping his cheeks. He’s only embarrassing himself.

Lance wraps his hands around Blue’s reigns and guides her to the gates with him. “I’m taking Blue.”

“Wait, Lance, you can’t –”

Fitting, that Marco speaks now.

“Consider it my dowry,” Lance snaps, and slams the gate behind him.

He ignores Marco’s calling, taking the first turn he sees on the cobblestone paths to finally duck out of his brother’s sights. Marco won’t follow him past the castle’s gate, anyway, but he’ll give up faster if he can’t see Lance, and Lance is tired of hearing him. He deserves the walk home, anyway. Lance hopes it takes him a couple days. Maybe he’ll send Blue back when he’s in a better mood.

If he’s ever in a better mood. Seeing that he’s basically locked into a fancy prison for the rest of time, now.

“C’mon, Blue,” Lance mutters, tugging her along. She noses gently at the back of his neck, but trots along happily. “Let’s find you a stable or something, huh? I’m sure a fuckin’ stone from the ground of this place is worth the entire town. If they don’t have a stable, I'm rioting.”

Lance keeps grumbling as he guides Blue along random paths, stumbling over poorly-kept paths overgrown with roots and vines. “Some place this is, huh, Blue? Our cluttered kitchen is more organised than this place. What kind of rich asshole prince doesn’t pay a groundskeeper, or something? Weirdo.”

Blue neighs at him, looking at him in a way that’s almost chastising, if a damn horse can look chastising.

“I’m allowed to call him names! He’s basically forcing me to marry him because he’s too horrible for anyone to fall in love naturally!”

At another one of Blue’s looks, Lance huffs, kicking a random rock off into the distance. “Yeah, yeah, okay. I’ll be nice. But, like, proportionally. I’m not going to kiss his royal ass, or anything. I’ll just refrain from kicking him when I’m so inclined.”

This time Blue’s whinny is almost amused.

Lance maybe needs to see if there’s someone his age around here to make friends with, or something. He’s going batty if his only friend’s a damn horse.

“Oh, hey, that looks like a stable. No other horses, though. And how old is that hay?” Lance pokes at the pile, which disintegrates to nothing at his touch. “Well, that’s not very welcoming. What kind of castle can’t afford some decent hay?” He guides Blue gently into one of the admittedly spacious stable stalls, carefully untying her saddle and harness and hanging it on the wall. He guides her head into a thankfully full water trough, and then sets off in search of some food for her. He hums quietly as he peeks his head in each of the other stalls, then steps outside of the stable. “There’s gotta be something somewhere.”

But there really isn’t. Lance must look for twenty minutes before he finally gets frustrated, stomping back to Blue’s stall with his hands on his hips.

“This stupid place is barren,” he tells her. She lifts her head from the water for a moment to neigh softly at him, nudging him gently. He presses a kiss in between her eyes, then pats her on the side before stepping to the side. “I’ll find you something, though,” he assures. “I’ll be back in a bit, okay? I’m gonna poke around ‘til I find somebody.”

He takes his time strolling around the castle grounds, whistling to himself and poking through every door he finds. He finds several garden sheds full of old, rusty tools, and several gardens that are completely overgrown with weeds. Every window he looks through is so caked with dust and cobwebs that he can barely make out anything. Every side door has a lock that’s completely rusted shut.

“Am I in the wrong castle, or something?” he mutters to himself. All earlier feelings have completely faded in favour of confusion. He may not know much about princes and royalty and riches, or whatever, but he’s relatively certain that most castles don’t look so…run down. Tired. Old.

Abandoned.

Finally he makes his way around to what must be the front entrance, with doors several dozen times the size of him. He runs his fingers over the grain of the wood, feeling a surface much rougher than he expected, like wood that hasn’t been oiled in years. Several rose briars grow across the door, holding it shut. Lance has to jog back to one of the garden sheds and use a dull pair of garden shears to hack them away. (He feels bad for destroying such beautiful plants, but decides he’ll save the buds and make a flower crown for Blue later. She looks adorable in pink, so she’ll look like a horse fit for a prince once Lance has finished braiding the roses into her mane.)

He’s expecting the door to be jammed shut, like all the others he tried, so he gives it a very hefty shove to try to encourage it to open.

And then lands on his ass with a yelp when the door opens easily.

“I love my life,” he announces to no one but the dank, dark entryway. “It is so wonderful here. First I get married off to some rando without any input, and then this entire stupid castle exists. If one more bad thing happens to me I am going to simply cry until I dry out like a salami, and then I shall allow myself to be eaten by crows.”

Lance swears he hears a muffled giggle.

“Hello? Is someone there?”

No response.

“Okay, I’m a little kooky, but definitely not so much that I’m imagining people laughing at my truly excellent jokes. I won’t bite, you know. And I promise I’m very charming and only a little miserable about my situation.”

There’s another giggle. He’s sure of it, this time. He tries to follow the sound, but it doesn’t really get him anywhere, because this stupid castle apparently decided to splurge on the creepy and imposing factor and skimp on all the lighting. He stumbles forward, hands outstretched, seeing if he can find an oil lamp or something. Hell, even a stick he can light with the scattered matches he has in his bag. He finally finds what feels like a table of some sort, and runs his fingers over it – grimacing at the thick layer of dust – until he finds what he thinks is a candelabra, which is hilarious. The place can’t afford a rag to wipe off the surfaces, but it can afford a real-life candelabra.

“I hate rich people,” Lance says mildly, striking the match on the rough door and lighting the three half-melted candles.

“Careful with that match, kiddo. This place is really flammable.”

Lance shrieks, throwing the candelabra – the living candelabra! The talking candelabra! What the fresh fuck! – to the ground and scrambling backwards. The candelabra clatters to the ground with a curse – what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck – rolling a couple feet before straightening itself out and bending its arms to its centre as a man might bend his arms to put at his waist.

The candelabra has a face, in the wax.

“What the fuck is going on,” Lance whimpers. The candelabra’s face seems to soften. Lance fights back hysterical laughter at his own mental pun, even though it’s objectively hilarious. It’s not the time. Now is the time to freak the fuck out.

“Hey, hey, take a breather,” the candelabra says. It has a deep, smooth voice, that makes Lance think of those shiny knights in the stories his Abuela used to tell him.

“You are a talking candle,” Lance responds.

The candelabra huffs. (Can the candelabra huff? Does the candelabra have lungs to huff, or is it just an attitude thing? Did Lance hit his head on the way to the castle ground, and is now dreaming?)

“My name is Shiro,” the candelabra says. He smiles softly. “You must be the fiancé.”

Lance decides, right in this moment, that he’s just going to accept his weird delusions until he wakes up. It can’t hurt, right? Nothing can be worse than being married off to Some Guy, prince or no.

“That would be me,” Lance says, trying and failing to keep the bitterness out of his tone. “Mail-order bride, at your service.” Shiro makes a face, wax eyebrows furrowing, so Lance decides to take pity on him. “Yes, I’m the fiancé. My name is Lance.”

“It’s good to meet you, Lance.” Shiro blows out the candle on one of his arms and holds it out. Lance shakes it, wary of the hot wax. It’s not Shiro’s fault Lance is in this garbage situation. “I’m sorry there was no one here to greet you. Over the years we’ve gotten a little…lax, in our hospitality.”

“That would explain the general air of despair and misery.”

Shiro laughs again, brightly and fully. “You’re a witty one, aren’t you?”

“So I’ve been told. My suitors lined up along the block, you know. I’m sure Prince Keith had to fight them off with his bare hands. Shame he ditched before we could be properly acquainted. I suppose we have the rest of our lives to get to know each other.”

“I’m sure it’s not proper for me to laugh at jokes at the expense of my Prince,” Shiro says, in a way that tells Lance he is holding back giggles.

Lance is very proud of himself. He may never be the smartest or strongest person in the room, but he’ll be damned if he’s not the funniest.

“I’ll wear you down eventually,” Lance says, waving a dismissive hand. “Now, do I get to meet the coathanger butler and duster french maid, or are you the only talking furniture?”

———

next chapter

[ao3isthehomogod]

My Heart Burns and My Skin Burns

Author: Write4love

Words: 8,425

Chapters: 1

Author Summary:

The Paladins of Voltron made it out of Bob's game show alive, but Lance is feeling the effects of being called the dumb one...and is about to feel effects of being thrown into a vat of acid...

My Summary:

This was one of the very first fics I ever read in this fandom and also made me practically fall in love with Voltron fan fic. The writing is just superior. It’s heartfelt, angsty, and just straight up beautiful! It has everything from lance angst (I love lance but reading his angst is simply the best), worried Keith, Klance, hidden feelings bursting to the surface, it has everything. Lance angst is so gut churning- and no matter what the writing is flawless! This fic definitely makes my top five!

Rating: Not Rated (I would rate it teen and up)

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Klance

Characters: Keith, Lance, Shiro, Krolia, Romelle, Kosmo, Allura

[awhoreintheory]

The world isn't ready for when I finally post the fic that goes along with this art.

[mylifeisfruk4ever]

"This is your fault."

 

Keith showed signs of enormous maturity ignoring him, and Lance snorted. What is it? He was right! Couldn't he blame Keith? Everyone loved to remind him of his mistakes, but when he pointed out other's mistakes, everyone said, ''It can happen.''

So why were his mistakes worth more?

 

It was too depressing to think about, and they were in a big mess. Lance looked around. The Holy of Holies had solid walls, and he suspected that their weapons would not scratch the rock.

 

 Their most important clue could be on one of the walls or under one of the pillars. But what should they do now? Should they call for help? 

 

Lance tried to activate the communicator, but it was as if it had broken. 

 

He groaned, "Great. We can't even ask others to come and get us."

 

"We can do it on our own."

 

Ah, Keith had finally decided to talk to him. Lance looked at him with skepticism, "Really? And how do you plan to do it?"

 

"I'll find a way."

 

"Well, I'd tell you to hurry, because the priests seemed pretty anxious to see us die," Lance yelled, angry.

 

 Why did Keith have to look so calm? If he knew what he was talking about, then there was no need to worry, but every time he acted like nothing had happened, it only raised Lance's worries. Keith sighed, "Let me handle this. You just keep calm."

 

"How am I supposed to keep calm?" Lance demanded. Why did he always have to make things harder for himself? 

 

 "We're stuck here because you had to offend their god!"

 

Keith sighed, "I have not offended their god. I just said the sacrifices were a waste of time."

 

"And you don't think you offended their god?! Seriously?!"

READ MORE Say something, I'm giving up on you

[kamiko1234]

Lance Hanahaki AU

Lance get's Hanahaki because while he does love everyone in the team in his own right, he feels like he is easily replacable to them and that they don't love him back.

He starts to caught up red roses , the flower meaning unconditional love. He tries to hide the sickness and he is successful at first.But sooner or later he just can't hide it anymore. Coran finds out about it first and panicks. Lance fell unconcious after caughting up whole flowers and , not knowing about Hanahaki, rushes Lance to a healing pod.

When he informed the rest they panick because , for one, Lance had Hanahaki and it probably was their fault. And now Lance get's the space version of surgery to remove it meaning that there is a pretty good chance that he'll just stop feeling anything for them, or worse, even forget them completly.

At first keith tries to get Lance out of the pod but Allura stops him, saying that interrupting the process might cause other, more serious injuries or even death to Lance. This leaves the team just waiting for Lance to get out of the pod, knowing everything that awaits them is a lose-lose scenario.

When Lance finally wkes up from the pod, Lance still remembers them. Which is good in the sense that they don't have to explain anything to him and he is still ready to help them to defeate the Galra, and it's bad in the sense that he is just completly apathetic to them.

He's not aggresive or anything and it's not like he wants to hurt them. But he just can't really bring himself to truly care for any of them. they can still form Voltron but it's harder and it doesn't function as smooth anymore.