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[fizzyren]

Merry @shangst-week everyone! Have some shangst from yours truly <3

(psst read this on my AO3)

Day 1: Garrison/Voltron

TW: noncon, blackmail, lance whump, teacher/student, sexual coercion 

Sometimes Shiro needed to take a walk around the Garrison. Just to clear his head was all. He always had so much to think about at every second of the day.

Shiro was to be deployed with the Holts to Kerberos in a matter of two weeks. All of the provisions and training had been completed and it was simply a waiting game for now.

It wasn’t that Shiro was nervous or scared but he just had so much energy pent up that he needed to go move around at ungodly hours in the night. His need for walks woke him up frequently from his sleep; He considered speaking to a nurse about it before he decided against it on the off chance they deemed him unfit to go on the mission.

It was a dream of his to go into the stars, to be able to get into space and conduct research. There was no way he would muck it all up just because he couldn’t sit still for a bit.

Shiro had a set route planned out. He’d walk by the dark offices and swing around towards the simulation decks. Through here Shiro could idly read the schedules posted by the doors.

It gave his eyes something to do other than track shadows in the dark hallways or think about negative things, like every possibly failure the Kerberos mission could experience.

Walking around during the night near offices also meant Shiro heard some pretty interesting conversations. Nothing dubious, but a few generals weren’t at all as nice as Shiro believed them to be if the way they trash talked the students were any indication of their feelings.

As it was, tonight was no different. Iverson typically was one to be loud and proud of his griping, complaining about his students unable to follow instructions or not grasping concepts quickly enough.

And he was never alone in it, enjoying the company of another general or two (and sometimes even three if Iverson broke out his liquor).

Shiro could hear Iverson and two other generals from down the hallway. Pearson and Manning. They were a duo that sent anyone’s skin crawling. Their happy smiles and white teeth were too bright to not have some underlying darkness. Shiro even dared to claim them worse than Iverson.

Pearson was in charge of an engineering study along with flight aerodynamics and maneuvering where Manning was busy doing office work all day and teaching one class on Tuesdays about discipline and rules of space flight and the academy.

Shiro had been in one of Pearson’s engineering courses and every time the man looked him over it had Shiro looking away and shuddering. It was no surprise rumors started about him coming onto students. It was a problem that the students were too scared to bring up to another teacher, fears of getting booted from the Garrison ran high.

Boisterous laughter suddenly startled Shiro from his reminiscing and he curiously went down the hallway. The door to Iverson’s office was cracked open just barely, enough for Shiro to lean into and peek inside through the crack.

General Manning was seated at Iverson’s leather chair. Leaned back far with his boots up on the pristine desk. He balanced a stubby crystal glass of amber liquid in a hand while his other supported his cheek. His gleaming, amused attention was focused on the other side of the desk. Where Iverson was standing.

Iverson’s back was to the door and so Shiro couldn’t quite see what he was doing. He’d obviously been drinking if the glass settled on the desk by his hand was an indication, the small ball of ice settled innocently in a few drops of whiskey.

As Shiro continued to look over Iverson, he noted that Pearson was standing by, leaned against the corner of the desk and looking down at Iverson’s front, or rather down at his legs.

Shiro was startled when he followed the three general’s lines of sight and saw the body of a cadet down on the floor. Whoever it was, they were on their knees and their hands were above their head, Shiro assumed held against the edge of the table.

All three men in the room were fixated on the cadet, chuckling drunkenly between each other before Iverson’s shoulder tensed.

Shiro didn’t need to see the motion of Iverson swinging to know he’d hit the person in front of him. It was hard enough for the cadet to go sprawling to the floor.

Shiro could now get a good look at his face. His lips were plump and wet with spit and a trickle of blood. Tears glistened in his eyes but his face was dry and free of them. His cheeks were dark with a blush, either from embarrassment or anger or fear, Shiro didn’t know.

Blazing blue eyes glared up at Pearson when his boot nudged him into the side. The cadet sucked at his bottom lip and tongued at the split before he sat himself up on an elbow.

“Get back up, boy. You’re not done.”

Pearson directed him with another nudge from his boot and the cadet swiped at the foot to get it away as he got himself back to his knees. the cadet it seemed was nothing but spitfire and challenging attitude.

Except Iverson wasn’t having the resistance. His fingers grabbed at the cadet’s hair and yanked, startling a cry from the boy.

Shiro was shocked to watch Iverson’s hips thrust forward. A motion that was unmistakable. Shiro’s gut clenched.

“That’s it,” Iverson hissed, tugging the cadet’s face in closer, “open that throat up for me again.”

The general’s body now hid away the cadet’s face but his reluctance wasn’t that easy to hide. During some point, Pearson had grabbed onto one of the cadet’s hands, holding onto his wrist mercilessly while he took another sip of his drink like he wasn’t helping the other man molest one of their cadets.

The boy’s other hand clutched weakly at Iverson’s pants leg at the back of his thigh. Trying to either get him to slow down or try and hold onto something for the trip.

The grip did nothing to deter the general’s thrusts however, backing the cadet’s head up against the desk so he had no place to go.

The boy’s chokes and gags were just as loud as the men talking, discussing the safety of the cadet’s family and the news they received about their son. All if he didn’t do a good job and if he caused too much fuss.

It was blackmail, all of this. Shiro wanted nothing more than to shove open the door and demand they stop right before he turned heel and told the dean about what had happened. The offices and hallways had cameras, surely he’d be able to have solid evidence.

But Shiro was frozen in place, unable to move at all as he watched the scene unfold behind the illusion of privacy. And surely a sense of security, what with three men of high power able to pull their word over anyone else’s.

Iverson finally reached for his empty glass and sipped at the last of the watered down alcohol before setting it down again. With the drink, his efforts were mindless.

Shiro could hear the cadet gagging around the cock in his mouth, being forced back to his throat. He would try and turn his head to cough but was met with a shake of his hair and a smack to the side of the face.

Luckily, Iverson didn’t last long drunk. He grunted as he pulled the cadet’s face in hard, an arm now hooked at the back of the cadet’s head as he curled over.

He came with a nasty grunt, growling about how good the boy’s throat felt working around him to try and swallow.

Once he was done, the general stepped away, taking tissue from the desk to wipe himself off and then tuck back into his pants, belting them.

The cadet on the floor coughed, trying to pull away his hand from Pearson. Cum and drool smeared on his chin as he swiped at it with the back of his free hand. He made no noise aside from his heavy panting but he was crying, angry little tears working streaks down his face.

The cadet made to spit on the floor before Pearson yanked his head backwards, grabbing his chin with a gloved hand so he couldn’t get rid of the bitter taste.

“Keep it in your mouth, slut. You know good boys don’t waste.”

Pearson’s grip in the boy’s hair tightened before he smeared his other hand up the boy’s face, taking with it all of the cum and drool and tears.

The cadet barely had time to clench his eyes shut, trying to get away from the slime. It was no use, and once Pearson was done he shoved the boy away roughly.

“Gonna go and finish up Manning there aren’t ya?” he said, not leaving any room for the cadet to think of any other option to do. The heavy threat behind the question was almost tangible in the room.

As he puts a hand on the table and makes a move to get up from his knees, Iverson makes a loud noise, stopping the cadet further.

Iverson was now seated in one of his chairs off to the side, one that guests used when coming to his office. He had his legs spread wide, one hand idly palming at his crotch while the other relaxed on the armrest. With a jerk of his chin he spoke, “He didn’t tell you to get up from your knees. Get over there the right way.”

Shiro watched the incredulity on the cadet’s face as he stayed on one knee, staring at Iverson as if he didn’t hear him right.

When Manning groaned and slammed the edge of his glass on the table, the boy startled, turning to look at him.

“He means to crawl, idiot. You dumb? How’d you get into the Garrison if you can’t even listen right?”

The cadet’s chest suddenly puffed and Shiro thought he might stand up right then and there. However, Manning speaking up again stopped him,

“Straight A’s and a perfect record and somehow you don’t even know how to stay on your knees? At this rate you aren’t even being considered for fighter class.”

Dread washed over the cadet’s face and immediately he deflated, dropping back to his knees. Shiro’s heart ached for him. Fighter class. And if Manning wasn’t lying, the cadet was perfectly qualified.

The cadet started to move, crawling around the corner of the desk and finally stopping to the side of Manning’s chair. His fingers were shaking and Shiro hoped it wasn’t because he was about to cry, he hoped it was him about to land a good punch. He may be a little scrawny but Shiro saw potential under the orange and white uniform.

Manning suddenly swung his legs off the table, chair spinning around so the general could now be facing the boy on the floor. In a tense moment everything was silent, still. But the rough slide of Manning’s glass on the table was loud in the room.

The cadet on the floor flinched as liquor splashed in his face and hair. It wasn’t at all cold, from the lack of ice, but it still sent his shoulders trembling.

“You’re a fucking mess.” Manning growled, boot being propped up on the cadet’s thigh.

He had turned his head down now, small drips of the liquor falling to the floor from his bangs and his chin. The splash had cleaned his face only a little from the all of the grime but ultimately did nothing to get rid of it all.

“Come on then,” Manning’s boot shifted as he pushed at the boy’s hip, “isn’t gonna suck itself.”

The general’s hand had at some point undone his belt and pants. His cock was now held out from his underwear and Manning gave it a wave with his fingers at the base to try and coax the cadet in.

The cadet sneered, not at all with any heat or fight left, and leaned in, taking the general into his mouth.

Be it from the alcohol, or just plain horny, Manning was impatient. He hit the back of the cadet’s head with a hard slap, shocking him into taking more of his cock. “Get to sucking, bitch, I don’t have all night.”

“You’re disgusting.” Pearson laughed, hip leaning on the edge of the table, he leaned to look over the desk, watching the action. Manning simply waved him off with his hand not holding his empty glass.

His other hand carded through the cadet’s brown hair, tugging every now and then as his mouth worked and sucked on the cock. His head bobbed softly, trying to do the bare minimum to get the general off and not worry about anything else.

Manning fisted his hand in the back of the cadet’s hair and suddenly pushed with a grunt, hips bucking upwards. The cadet was obviously not expecting the force and his shoulders hunched, trying to twist away as he gagged.

However, he wasn’t let up, kept down longer and longer. Shiro was scared that Manning would choke the cadet out but the general clapped the side of the boy’s face and told him firmly to swallow.

After a few moments of the boy reluctantly swallowing, Manning pulled him off. The cadet curled back as if he’d been burned, turning his head down to cough into his hand. The men found something funny about it as they shared a laugh, watching the cadet try and get his breathing under control.

“He needs to have a drink to wash it all down, huh?” Pearson came around the desk, bringing with him the opened bottle of whiskey. There was no obvious branding on it that Shiro could see and it could have only been smuggled into the Garrison. The only alcohol permitted into the Garrison was supposedly too weak for the general’s and officer’s liking. It wasn’t rare or even a secret that stronger stuff was brought in.

Pearson tapped the end of the bottle to the cadet’s downturned head, getting his attention.

When Pearson took the boy’s chin, Iverson grumbled, “Now don’t go wasting my whiskey, Pearson.”

The other general scoffed before wiggling the bottle in the cadet’s face.

“Hear that, boy? Don’t waste a single drop.”

Without waiting for the cadet to nod, Pearson put the mouth of the bottle between the cadet’s lips, suddenly tilting it up.

His hands immediately scrambled to hold onto Pearson’s wrist, forced to swallow mouthful after mouthful of the bitter liquid. When he missed a swallow, whiskey dribbled out from the corners of his mouth, signaling Pearson to pull it back.

The cadet’s cure for his cough ended up making the problem worse, but now his face was flushed, and the more he got jostled around from Pearson and Manning tapping him and pulling him up to his feet, the more Shiro saw him get disoriented.

Now on his two feet, the generals stood as well, crowding him up by the desk.

It was a flurry of words, threats to stay quiet, snide comments about his mouth, directions about what he was going to do next. The generals seemed to get their fill on touching the cadet as well, fingers pinching at the boy’s skin through his uniform and rubbing between his legs, obviously not finding anything worth attending to. The cadet just nodded to everything, eyes rimmed with red, unable to cry anymore.

Pearson was nice enough to wipe at the cadet’s chin, getting rid of the drying grime and alcohol. The three generals helped fix up his uniform, make sure it was spotless before Iverson was taking him by the upper arm and leading him towards the door.

Shiro, with his heart in his throat, yanked himself away from the door, finally able to move as if a spell had been taken away. If he was to be caught there was no telling what consequences could follow.

Iverson didn’t follow the cadet out past the end of the hallway, simply pushed him forward and told him to keep his mouth shut. Shiro stayed tucked around the corner, watching the back of the cadet as he stumbled down the dark halls. Finally he stopped, bumping into the wall with a small sob.

“Lance?”

Both Shiro’s and the cadet’s head turned, seeing another cadet through an open door. He was out of his uniform, already looking as if he were getting into bed.

The cadet–Lance– finally slumped to the floor, a broken laugh leading into quiet sobs; “I’m okay, Hunk. I’m okay, I’m fine-”

Suddenly Shiro’s view swirled, like water was filling the room and he was coming up for air. The kneeling Lance became a smear of color before Shiro’s vision went dark.

When he next opened his eyes Lance was standing up and tearing off his headset. He looked furious, staring right at Shiro who was seated on the training deck floor with wide eyes.

“You- ”

Hunk, next to Lance, look just as startled.

Lance looked like he was about to say something but then closed his mouth, rushing out of the room.

Shiro had no time to try and explain himself, feeling just as helpless as that night in the Garrison, having no time to stay and try and offer help before he was put into space.

But this time, Shiro didn’t have a mission looming over him and preventing him from chasing after Lance. With bewildered looks of shock from the other paladins, Shiro left the training deck after Lance.

It didn’t take him long to find the other paladin, ripping himself out of his armor, tossing it across the room. Their room.

Lance had somehow at some point moved into Shiro’s room after they started dating. It was a slow process, accidentally leaving pants in there, then leaving a shirt, a hair brush, his face mask. And just like that the rest of Lance’s stuff followed.

Shiro didn’t mind in the slightest, the castle beds were adjustable, able to slide out and make just enough room that both of them could lay comfortably on warm nights.

There was nothing warm at all about the room once the door slid shut behind Shiro. Lance whirled on him, blue eyes as piercing as ice. The room felt as such, and Shiro curiously wondered if Lance somehow picked up his lion’s attributes.

“You were there.”

Lance stated, disbelief thick in his tone, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just seen, as if the memory that had been shared was somehow made up.

But the mind melding never worked like that. The memories were strengthened if more than one of the paladins had experienced the same memory. And both Shiro and Lance had very vivid memories of that night.

Shiro was stunned into silence, scared of what to say.

“Shiro. You were there. ” Lance choked, speaking around the lump in his throat and the tears in his eyes, “you sat there and watched!”

“I-”

“Don’t you dare .” Lance snarled, glare keeping Shiro in place, unable to step closer. Lance couldn’t decipher what emotion he was feeling, it was a hurricane of everything. Too much, way too much.

“You were there, Shiro!”

“I was.” He said solemnly, calm.

“You were there!” Lance repeated, he didn’t know what else to say, the shock of it still hitting him.

“I know.”

Shiro kept still, let Lance call the shots first. The blue paladin turned and paced for a moment before he stopped where he was before, facing Shiro with hot tears now running down his cheeks. Shiro wanted nothing more than to come to him and brush them away.

“Why? ”

“Lance, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to watch, I just- the Kerberos mission.”

Shiro watched the emotions switch on Lance, from disbelief and anger to dread. He didn’t know if that was worse or not. Quickly, he tried to explain better.

“I should have done something. I should have talked to someone, or at least to you. I didn’t know who you were at the time and I didn’t know how to find you again. How could I have said something if I didn’t know your name? How could I have barged into the room and stopped them without risking your success at the Garrison, or my plans for the Kerberos mission.

“I know that way of thinking is selfish, and it was. I was selfish back then. I was scared, I didn’t know what to do. Lance, I wanted to do something but I couldn’t. I was too much of a coward to-”

Shiro cut himself off, lips pursing tightly as he looked at Lance. Tears were still falling and Shiro took a step forward.

When Lance didn’t move away from him Shiro finally reached out and brushed warm fingers against Lance’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t do anything. I’m sorry I didn’t stop anything.”

Shiro kept his attention focused, but Lance didn’t say anything, just held still as Shiro brushed away his tears. Shiro cupped his face softly, bringing their foreheads together so that Shiro could close his eyes and still make sure Lance was there in front of him.

“Please say something.” He pleaded. Shiro braced himself for the worst, for Lance to completely blow up on him. He deserved it.

“We-” Lance’s voice cracked and he shook his head, fingers soft on Shiro’s wrist to pull his hands away, “We need to take a break. I-I need some time. To myself.”

Shiro kept his eyes closed for a moment, to keep the tears at bay so when he opened them, he could meet Lance head on.

Shiro stepped back, heart clenching with the small step. “I understand. However long you need. I’ll be here for you.”

The door slid open behind Shiro as he drew close to it. With anyone else he might have felt weird about leaving his own room, but it was Lance. Even if he had a room as the blue paladin, his room was with Shiro. And Shiro didn’t mind taking some time away from his things.

“Wait.” Lance called after him, stopping him from completely stepping out of the room. Shiro didn’t want to wait but his feet stopped anyway, body obeying Lance.

The other paladin drew close and Shiro expected…well he didn’t know what it was, but surely being kissed was the last thing on that list.

It was soft, barely a press of lips that reminded Shiro of their first.

Lance chewed at his own bottom lip as he stepped back, swallowing as he looked up at Shiro.

“I still love you, okay? Don’t…don’t go off and think badly of yourself or-or of me. There’s just- I- so much to think about.” Lance held onto Shiro’s arm gently, gave it a squeeze, and Shiro’s stomach knotted. This felt awfully close to a goodbye to him.

“I’ll be in your room. Whenever you’re ready to talk…”

Shiro knew Lance would be able to find him. And he knew they would work this out eventually. He just didn’t know how long it would take.

Lance nodded silently before taking a step back and the door slid shut, like a period on the end of a sentence, closing their conversation with a heavy air of finality.

Shiro didn’t know how long he sat there by his door, heart like stone in his chest as he listened to broken sobs and hiccups from inside. But he knew that he’d fucked up, big time.

Hopefully, just maybe, he’d be able to make it right.

[starrbomb]

Me two weeks ago, starting to write a fic: ah-yeah this shangst fic is going to be like 8,000 words

Me now closing in on 8,000 words and not even halfway done:

I was a fool.

[dreamworksworddump]

Shangst week: Captivity/gladiator ring

Throwing Shiro back in the ring wasn't a bright tactical move. Cruel, sure, but not actually helping anything. Throwing Lance in there with him, against him, that was just the icing on the space cake. It's all just a cruel joke, because really, there's no way that someone like him can best Shiro in a hand to hand fight. And there's no way that Shiro can back down either. It's kill or watch as everyone else is killed. Pidge and Keith and Hunk are sitting in their cells now, a gun pressed to each of their heads. If either of them holdd back, doesn't try, they're dead. Lance knows that Shiro can't hold back. Not if it means his best friend dies, that Pidge dies without seeing her brother again, that Hunk never gets tl taste his mom's cooking. Even if it means that he has to kill his lover. The door slowly raises open, and Lance can hear the crowd roar. Across the arena, Shiro awaits. Lance doesn't hesitate.

[tokyoteddywolf]

Ya know, with all the langst I write, and how I like shance, I bet y'all would expect me to be all over Shangst Week. SIKE. Hahahaha yeah no. I don't do non-happy endings ;-; (Let my boys be happy pls-) So uh, I'm not gonna participate or look at some of the stuff. Maybe a few art pieces reblogged here and there, but not much outside of that. Sorry :/

[mizu-writes-kumo]

For @shancefluffweek - Day 7 - Trust/Love

Summary:

Lance had never done anything wrong in life to deserve what was happening.

Or at least, he was pretty sure he hadn’t.

Lance just kind of woke up in the middle of a forest one day. Knowing only his name and the fact that his head and the wound in his shoulder at the time hurt. But that was it.

Lance is scared and doesn’t remember anything, Shiro rides a motorcycle, nothing can stop Shance, cause they in love.  Spy AU of sorts.

[bandishedespeon]

I'm gonna draw some Shangst

[shangst-week]

>:3c

it's that time of year again, folks! day one is coming up real soon, and I'm super excited to see what you guys come up with this time! and also, a friendly reminder to tag so we can make sure to tag any and all triggers! happy heartbreaking! -Mod Shiro

[manifestmerlin]

Just barely on time again, I promise this won’t be a regular thing.

ANyways anyone like the two fluffy ones from before? Good good, btw...

DID SOMEONE SAY TONAL SHIFT?

Anyways ! hope you enjoy the angst! >;)

AO3 Link

@shancesupportsquad

[fizzyren]

@shangst-week Day 2: Anger/Depression

As always, cross posted on my AO3 here, give it some kudos ;*

If you have yet to read my day one, and wish to read this fic, you’ll be a little confused, but it isn’t necessary to read day one. TW for mentioned past rape/noncon, yelling, high emotions/stress, Lance chews Shiro out

Lance’s entire world seemed shifted. Like someone simply stepped close and flipped everything upside down and left without even a single word.

It was a blurry and hot walk from the training deck to his bedroom. His and Shiro’s.

Against his wishes, the thought of being behind closed doors with Shiro sent his stomach curling. A sensation so violent it scared Lance.

Lance could have gone his entire life saving the universe and never ever coming into contact with a catalyst for his mind to pull up terrible memories of the Garrison. But without any warning, Shiro did the job just fine.

Their mind meld turned into a living nightmare, Lance was stuck once again on the floor under hard stares from the professors, from the commanding generals.

Shiro’s memories were from a cracked door, but they blended seamlessly with Lance’s dormant ones and in a sick blend of memories, Lance got to experience that night over again while also watching it.

It took Lance so long to figure out what was actually happening, stuck in the memory with the taste of bitter cum and whiskey burning his throat. When he was hunched over himself in the halls, Hunk asking him if he was okay, and Lance barely keeping from throwing up, the blue paladin had enough of that night and ripped the electrode helmet off his head, standing up in panic.

It snapped the memory away before anyone else could see the rest of that night, a hand in the smoke and wiping it away from four prying eyes. No one needed to hear him sob to Hunk about hating himself, about having to suck off the generals at random nights when he was called in for “evaluations”.

Lance’s ears were ringing as he stared at Shiro, still sitting on the floor in shock. Someone had said something but Lance felt bile at the back of his throat, sending him whirling around and running away to their shared room.

Please don’t follow me please don’t follow me please don’t-

The door to the room slid shut with a soft click, the lock turning automatically on the command of the black paladin entering.

With no barrier to his emotions, Lance turned on Shiro, fear making him brave to meet Shiro head on. He was scared of the man with him. Alone. Away from prying eyes. Away from help if Lance screamed.

He couldn’t even be shocked about being scared of Shiro. All that registered was the shock of knowing his now boyfriend had watched him going through hell.

“You were there.”

He whispered, voice hot. His entire face burned with shame and anger and fear. It ran like a mantra in his head, and Lance was unaware he had been repeating himself, Shiro trying to come closer.

“Don’t you dare,” he seethed, trying to not crawl off to the corner and sob. He had to be strong, had to face the problem now before…

Lance had to stay away from Shiro, to process that he was there.

Shiro, his hero, his boyfriend, his leader, was there. He had sat there and watched the whole exchange! Had even followed him afterwards without a single word…!

“Why?”

Lance’s voice cracked as he demanded. Lance wanted to keep his voice level and commanding, like how Shiro could in high stress situations.

But tears were already choking Lance up, straining his voice so that it was hard to speak.

Shiro talked, explained how scared he was, how stunned he was and that he didn’t know who Lance was.

Excuses excuses excuses! He’s lying! He doesn’t care! He’s lying! Liar! Liar!!

His thoughts stopped him from hearing everything. Lance had zoned out of Shiro’s explanation halfway in.

When Lance found himself back in his body, able to feel Shiro’s touch, brushing away tears that were still falling…

Lance’s heart was thudding hard in his chest. His lungs aching something terrible. He was so scared. Even when Shiro’s warm hands cupped his face so softly. Lance was scared of Shiro, scared of having the man that watched him go through hell touching him.

“Please say something,” Shiro asked, voice small. It was something Lance never heard before. This couldn’t be Shiro. This was in no way Shiro. With the scared crease between his brows, eyes shut in desperation.

“We-” Lance said, stopping when his voice broke. With shaky hands Lance pulled Shiro’s hands away. His skin crawled at every point of contact they had. “We need to take a break. I-I need some time…to myself.”

Lance was scared that Shiro would grab him, tell him no. Push him to his knees and get a thumb into his mouth, slap him, tell him to be good and suck.

Shiro stepped back instead, nodding softly.

“I understand. However long you need. I’ll be here for you.”

Shiro kept going further and further away.

The door to their room slid open, and Lance felt panic shoot ice cold through his spine.

What if Shiro thought he was disgusting? Was this an easy out for him? He didn’t need any other reason to stay with a tainted and dirty person anymore.

Lance clung desperately to their normality. Stubbornly he tried to tell himself that it would be okay, that it was all a terrible dream.

“Wait.” He called, fingers starting to tremble. He didn’t want to cry again. He didn’t want Shiro to hate him. He didn’t want Shiro to leave forever.

Shiro stopped for him, stood in the open doorway and waited tensely as Lance approached.

It clicked so clearly, Shiro did find Lance disgusting. He saw him differently. Tears burned hot behind his eyes and Lance pressed a small kiss to Shiro’s lips.

Lance wanted that kiss to change everything, for this terrible dream to go away, for Shiro to say he wasn’t actually there and didn’t watch.

“I still love you, okay? Don’t…don’t go off and think badly of yourself or-or of me. There’s just- I- so much to think about.” Lance stuttered, tripping over himself and the hot feeling in his gut.

He took Shiro’s arm and gave it a gentle press of fingers, wanting Shiro to tell him it was okay. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t real.

“I’ll be in your room. Whenever you’re ready to talk…”

Lance let go of Shiro when he said so, terror so thick it was sour in his mouth. He nodded and stepped back, letting Shiro go from the room.

When the door shut, Lance fell to his knees with a sob. He covered his mouth, willing down the feeling he was about to throw up.

Shiro didn’t tell him it was okay. Shiro didn’t tell him it was fake or a dream.

Lance’s legs were weak, heavy like lead on the floor as he curled on himself and cried, sobbed hard enough that his chest hurt.

He felt betrayed. Betrayed that Shiro would–

How could he? How could he have just watched? Not even said anything? Not come to him after and ask if he was okay?

Did Shiro really care about him? He must have, if he followed Lance after and tried to explain himself. But maybe he was using him. But for what reason? Was it out of pity?

That thought made Lance hot, feeling embarrassed and angry. He was not some guy to pity-date. Hell no.

One part of Lance told him nasty things, how Shiro didn’t care, not really. That Shiro did care before but now he saw Lance as some disgusting whore.

But the other part of Lance wanted nothing more than to scream and punch the wall, the floor, Shiro. How dare he watch? How dare he try and say he couldn’t do anything? There was always a way to help. Kerberos or not.

How could Shiro have put Lance over Kerberos though?

His thoughts warred on back and forth, rolling over each other as he cried. His shoulders jumped with each hiccuped breath.

He hated himself, hated Iverson, hated the Garrison, hated…. no. He couldn’t hate Shiro. Even as he knelt here wanting to, willing himself to hate Shiro, he couldn’t do it.

His memories of Shiro holding him close and keeping him warm and feeling safe would not stop interfering.

He just needed to make new memories then, he needed to keep Shiro at arms length, distant.

No one came to bother him, not when he crawled into bed and turned over, back to Shiro’s side of the bed and trying to not press his face against the pillow.

The door stayed firmly shut and locked when Lance cried again, hit with imagining Shiro curling up behind him and pressing his lips to the back of his neck.

He held his pillow close, reluctantly used Shiro’s own pillow to support himself and cry against.

I’m sorry. His dream Shiro whispered, a kiss under his ear leaving his skin burning. I love you, Lance. And another hot press of lips came to his neck, further down to the nape of his neck.

Lance shot up in bed, slapping a hand over his neck with a shudder. He couldn’t stay in bed with the sheets over his hips, imagining the ghost of Shiro’s warm hands on his thighs, coming up further and further until they were squeezing harsh and painful, Iverson’s voice now in his ear whispering filth.

Lance whimpered and stumbled into the bathroom connected, pressing the controls on the glass panel. Steam immediately began to curl at the ceiling as hot water fell from the showerhead.

Lance didn’t wait any longer to pull his clothes off and step inside, hoping the scalding water would wash away the touches.

Lance didn’t know how long he stayed in there, hands pressed on the wall and hot water on his neck and shoulder blades, burning away the feeling of grabbing hands and chapped lips.

The castle never had an ending supply of hot water, so it was a matter of Lance growing drowsy and tired that sent him to turn the water off and step out.

His skin was flushed pink from the heat and as he scrubbed off dry with a towel, it just irritated it further. Lance bypassed his facemask in favor of just crawling back into bed, eyelids too heavy to stay open any longer.

When he fell asleep, he dreamed of that night, but instead of Iverson standing over him, back handing him enough to leave bruises, it was Shiro, eyes hard as stone and voice just a cruel. His grin was sharp, canines elongated and the shadows on his face seemed darker, a part of him, of this darker Shiro.

Lance couldn’t wake up from it, that Shrio in his dreams dragging him away from the safety of waking up over and over again, forcing him back into his own head to scream and cry and beg for him to stop.

For once, when Lance woke up, he was glad it was to a cold bed, devoid of Shiro and his soft breathing.

He had gotten himself dressed slowly, not wanting to leave the room. However, his growling stomach forced him to do otherwise. He assumed it would be okay, at this time, since it was past the paladin’s “communal breakfast” time.

Lance slipped from the room and walked softly towards the huge dining hall, already spotting empty chairs and leftover bowls of goo and other colorful foods.

His stomach growled once again and he skipped into the hall with glee, forgetting all about the day before, just for the small amount of time he had to shove a handful of crunchy, striped things into his mouth and then almost immediately choke on them.

Sitting at the end of the table was Shiro, eyes wide and spoon poised over a black and yellow bowl of slop. Lance remembered how bitter and salty that dish was, it was Shiro’s favorite, especially when he wanted to feel like he’d eaten healthy.

The black paladin cleared his throat softly and set his spoon down, looking at Lance expectantly, like they might soon have a conversation.

Instead, Lance felt indescribably petty and sneered at Shiro before grabbing a bowl of green food goo and storming from the room.

Shiro’s favorite dish wasn’t the only bitter and salty thing in the room.

Lance heard Shiro sputter some weak excuse of a pet name for him as he tried to extract himself from the table and follow. But Lance wasn’t having any of it, no sir, not this time.

His blood was boiling, and thinking about the cause only made Lance’s eyes water. He needed to be away, he had to be away. If Shiro touched him….

Warm metal came against Lance’s shoulder, stopping him from his rampage down the halls, but it ended up whirling said rage around.

Lance slapped away the hand, used his other to shove Shiro in the center of his chest hard enough to send him stumbling back.

“Don’t you fucking touch me!” He snapped, breathing heavy. He didn’t want to cry. He hated crying when he was angry, it always sent mixed signals.

Shiro looked as if Lance had slapped him, hard across the face and then insulted his family. Maybe that might have been a lesser blow than what Lance was gearing up to dish out.

“You don’t deserve to touch me ever again! Not after yesterday, not after four years ago!” Lance felt the tears in his eyes, and when he blinked, they slipped down his face, “After everyth-”

His hiccup brought himself to count his breathing, steady in, and steady out. He hated the look Shiro gave him, one of concern and desire to comfort. Just seeing that in Shiro made Lance’s skin crawl. Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me!

“What made you ever think it was okay to not tell me you saw what happened? Did you just think you could go along dating me and thinking the water was under the bridge?! What else did you look in on? Did you see Iverson shoving me into his desk? Huh? What about Pearson using me in the bathroom? Did you just happen to be walking by there too?”

Shiro’s mouth hung open softly, looking ready to speak up but Lance wanted nothing but his silence.

“Shut the hell up, Shiro! I don’t want any of your excuses! You kept that from me!! With everything that we’ve been through? Your dark secrets you don’t want to tell me are that you’ve watched me get raped?”

Shiro winced at the foul word, Lance not at all afraid to spit it at him like a weapon. His shoulders were trembling with barely kept anger, chest tight, fingers balled up.

“When did you ever plan to bring that up to me, Shiro? Never?? When something else like it happened? Were you just happening to wait until I’d forget or something?”

Shiro shook his head, starting, “Lance, No. I-”

But Lance gave Shiro’s shoulder the barest of hard glances, sending the talker man stepping backwards with a flinch. Cold anger curled happily in his stomach at Shiro’s scared expression. Good.

“You’re a bastard, Shiro. For you to take that from me. To keep that kind of thing to yourself.”

Every sharp sentence held malice folded ten times over. Lance had been unknowingly saving all of it for years, bottled up inside and waiting for the cork to come out. He had stepped closer to Shiro with each sentence, sure to drive his point home once Shiro’s back bumped into the wall.

Now the tables were turned, now Shiro could feel what he felt, that disgusting fear of someone you loved, of someone so close turning on you. Now it was Shiro’s turn, Lance thought viciously. Every nerve was hellbent on revenge.

“You’re not fit to be a leader if all you can do is hide behind your stupid excuses! I don’t give a shit you were scared! You don’t think I wasn’t terrified? They threatened my fucking family, Shiro! My brothers, my sisters, my mom! Do you know how it feels to tell yourself every night that you are obligated to get raped for your family? Do you know what that would do to my family if they knew?

“You’re a fucking coward. Unable to stand above your mission and unable to stand above your pride to help. You say there was nothing you could have done but you’re wrong. You could have done everything. You sure do it now, whatever you can to save me.”

“Lance–”

“No. You don’t get to fucking talk. You will listen to me. The shit I had to go through at that Garrison for my family, for you. How funny is it that they never had to worry about my hero finding out about me and them because he was already watching!” 

Lance laughed dryly, wanting to wipe away his tears but stuck in place, fixing Shiro to the wall like a trap. Shiro looked terribly small, nothing but submissive and sorry to the hot rage Lance was letting him have.

“L-Lance, you’re hurting me…” he whispered, voice strained as he winced. It had Lance pulling his hands away without looking. He cursed himself in his head, still so accommodating for Shiro even after learning what happened. Even after being beyond livid with him Lance still listened to him.

He noticed the color on Shiro’s flesh and blood wrist the moment he looked down for a minute to blink away tears.

And the bruise already forming made Lance’s throat shut tight. Small crescents of red lined the dark bruise already, blood rising to the surface. Lance had no idea he had even grabbed Shiro, had held onto him with such viciousness.

But even seeing Shiro hurting, and by his own hand, Lance’s anger still swelled like a rising tide, crashing on the shore ruthlessly until it tired itself out. There was no stopping the waves.

“Don’t ever touch me again, Shiro.” He said, voice low and heat still in his tone. He stepped back before walking away down the hall, finally able to wipe his eyes.

Don’t touch me, don’t look at me, don’t talk to me. It was all clear in one command. And Lance hoped to every star out there that he listened. For his sake.

Lance looked down at his hand at his side once he got back into the room, staring at the drying blood on his fingertips. Shiro’s…

He breathed out heavily as he went into the bathroom and washed it away. As Lance’s stomach growled he hung his head, frustration building with the anger when he realized he had left his food goo back with Shiro…

[starrbomb]

Me: checks calendar and sees shangst week is coming closer and closer.

Me: looks over to my shangst week piece and sees that it isn't done yet. At all.

Me: tries very hard not to cry because I'm not done yet.

Me:cries anyways.

[briaryre]

you dont know my name you you dont even care

[the-kittens-of-vol-tron]

Heartbreak

Have you ever felt your stomach drop? Not like on a rollercoaster or driving down a steep hill. Have you ever felt your stomach drop when you saw the person you loved holding someone else? Or felt it drop when you see that person you loved engrossed in somebodies else’s conversation? 

Well that’s how Lance was feeling right now, letting his stomach churn as he attempted to keep his eyes away from the conversation that was occurring before him across the room. He took another sip of his nunvil, ignoring the random alien flirting with him. 

His mind was plagued with things he couldn’t have. He couldn’t hold their hands, he couldn’t kiss their lips, he could only simply put a smile on his face and pretend that his heart wasn’t struggling to keep it together. 

“How are you doing my boy?” Coran tapped Lance’s shoulder, frowning at the fake smile that was placed on the boys face. 

“I’m fine, just enjoying the party.” He slowly moved his cup around, watching the liquid swoosh around the cup.  

“You don’t look like you’re enjoying the party.” Coran waved at a few passing aliens, his eyes falling on what Lance was concerned about. “You couldn’t have stopped it.” 

Lance shrugged, “I could be more interesting. I could be better at school or sports. I could be more fun to talk to instead I’m just me.” Lance threw his head back, letting the nunvil burn as it moved down his throat. 

“I think you’re just fine the way you are.” Coran smiled at the tanner boy, placing his hand on his shoulder. 

Lance moved his shoulder away from the older man, “thanks but it’s not helping. I just wish I was better, I wish I was wanted for once. I wish I was someone better.” His hand gestured towards the other people, “I wish I was them.” 

Coran opened his mouth to respond only to be called over by Allura. “Don’t let them get to you son, everything will work out. Heartbreak is temporary.” 

Lance nodded, watching Coran strut across the room and his eyes trailed back to where his heart ached. I want that, he looked at the ground, placing his cup down to walking out of the room, why can’t that be me? He shook his head, he needed to find a way to get their laugh out of his head. 

— Vent fic I suppose

[soyouthinkyoucanshance-blog]

Guys, consider Shiro from a parallel universe, who’s maybe just lost his Lance, gets sucked into a wormhole and spat out in the current timeline, only to find himself confronted with the living, perfectly healthy, image of his dead lover.

Also, maybe this Shiro and Lance haven’t quite communicated their ever-growing feelings for one another, and Alternate Shiro latches onto Lance in a desperate means to cope. 👌

@wajjs I think this is the ticket

[sparklebitch]

Toxin (Shance angst)

Summary: Shangst where Shrio is holding his poisoned lover, Lance.

A/N: @izanagisbitch requested this over a year ago and I completely misunderstood it and wrote something totally different lol (it's quite a few prompts back. Title: Toxic Love). I was rereading some of my old fics and remembered it. So I wrote what they actually asked for 😂 Again, so so sorry!

Trigger warning: posion, sickness, death mention, super sad feelings

~   ~   ~

The leaves rustled loudly overhead. The wind whipped the branches every which way. Animals all around were scattering, fleeing to their homes.

A storm was approaching.

Shiro didn't notice any of this.

His only focus was Lance's struggling breath.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked for the fourth time. Lance rolled his eyes, but Shiro noticed a bead of sweat roll down his forehead.

"Takashi, you worry too much. I'm alright. It's just a- a stomach ache or something" he assured his worried boyfriend. Shiro held up his hands in defeat, but he wasn't totally convinced.

Shiro and Lance had been on a stroll through a nearby village that evening, seeing as how they would be stuck here for a while. They had arrived for a routine checkup on the planet which had recently joined the alliance, but when they had tried to leave, their ship mysteriously broke down. Coran informed them that it could potentially be a few weeks before he could identify the problem and fix it, so they should make themselves comfortable here.

The walk had started out nice. The weather was pleasant. The villagers were more than welcoming. One had even brought them tea to drink on their walk.

But a few minutes after leaving the village on the small dirt path through the woods, Shiro noticed Lance's breath becoming labored. At first he laughed it off, assuming it was from the large meal they had had, but the longer they were out, the harder it was to deny that something was actually very wrong.

They continued to wander down the path that led from the village through the lush forest that surrounded the civilization. Everything was so pretty. It would've been a perfect night if it hadn't been for Lance's obvious discomfort.

"How long do you think we'll be here?" Lance asked, trying to distract himself, and Shiro, from his pain.

"I'm not sure. Coran hasn't figured out what's wrong with the ship yet" Shiro said. Lance smiled broadly as he closed the gap between their hands. He intertwined their fingers and tugged Shiro closer to his side.

"Maybe we'll be here for years" He said. Shiro frowned at the happiness in Lance's voice.

"That wouldn't be good" he murmured in confusion.

"Oh come on, it would be so fun! We could build a house!"

"Build a- Lance you don't know the difference between a phillips screwdriver and a flathead!" Lance, completely undeterred by this, continued.

"Of course we would have to have a front porch with a swing. And a nice sized backyard where we can plant a garden. I'd like to have two bathrooms, but we could make do with just one" He said to himself. Shrio stared at him in bewilderment.

"Wh-" Lance pressed a finger to Shiro's lips.

"Shh. We're just pretending babe. We're not really going to build a house" he whispered, as if it was a secret. Shiro's eyes softened in realization and he chuckled.

"Oh. Well... then I guess we'd need a decent sized kitchen with an island so I can cook you dinner" he pressed a flirtatious kiss to Lance's knuckles. Lance giggled but cut off in a sudden coughing fit.

The wind picked up around them as they paused for Lance to catch his breath.

"Okay, I think it's time we head back" Shiro said nervously. "You might be getting sick" Lance waved him off, though in his current state, doubled over and hacking up a lung, it wasn't very reassuring.

"I'm..." he coughed sharply. "F- fine" Shiro let go of Lance's hand and shielded his eyes as he looked around them, unsure of which way they had come.

When did they wander off the path?

"Let's- Let's head back the way we came" Shiro suggested. Lance nodded, groping around for Shiro's hand. He was too embarrassed to admit that his vision was blurring.

The two turned around and began their trek back toward the village. It was more difficult than they had anticipated, because of the weather.

Somehow neither of them had noticed how dark it had gotten during their walk. Angry looking dark clouds were looming overhead, threatening to break open and pour down on them.

Shiro's heart rate spiked as he continued to tug Lance along what he thought was the path. Everything around them looked the same. They were lost.

"Shiro..." Lance croaked. His began to stumble along, his head lolling lower and lower with every stop.

Shiro glanced over and thought to himself, "His skin is white as a sheet..." Before either of them could mutter another word, Lance collapsed.

~

The next thing Lance new he was laying on his side with his head in Shiro's lap. They had moved underneath a tree to shield them from the downpour that had started at some point.

"Wha-" Lance rasped. Shiro let out a loud gasping sigh.

"Lance! Shh... don't try to talk. Just relax. You collapsed" Lance was suddenly aware that his entire body was shaking uncontrollably. He was both too hot and too cold at the same time.

"What... happening?" Shiro has one hand in Lance's hair, and the other was gripping his hand.

"I- I don't know" There was a clap of thunder overhead. "We need to get back to the castle but..." He trailed off, staring up at the scene around them. The storm was so strong that the forrest has seemingly come to life. Trees swaying, limbs falling, debris flying through the air. "I think we'll have to wait out the storm" Despite being fairly well covered, Lance felt large drops of water splashing his exposed skin. "It's all going to be okay."

Lance listened as Shiro called to the others on his communicator. He couldn't make sense of what they were saying. All he knew was that Allura voice was frantic and she kept repeating several words like "poisoned" and "trap." The world continued to flicker in and out of focus for several minutes before Lance found the strength to speak.

"Shiro" Lance mumbled. His voice was barely audible over the howl of the wind. "Shrio, don't let go of me" he pleaded. He didn't want to frighten Shiro, but moments ago he became aware that he couldn't feel any part of his body.

Shiro searches Lance's eyes for the source of his pain, but came up empty. He desperately wanted to fix this, but he had no idea how.

"I'm here, Lance. I'm here. And I'm not letting you go. I'll get you back to the castle. You're going to be okay. Look, I think the weather is clearing up" he said, trying to stay positive. Lance knew it was a lie.

"I love you" Lance said, teary eyed. "Shiro, I love you"

"I- I love you, too" Shiro said through tears. "You're going to be okay. Everything's going to be okay" Shrio searched Lance's face as he tried to think of something to say, something to make this moment a little less scary. He didn't know what was going to happen next, but he was worried that this might be... That this might be the last moments he and Lance had together.

"Hey, we- we should get a dog" Shiro said, wiping the tears out of his eyes. Lance frowned for a moment, and then a faint smile ghosted his face.

"As long as it's a big one. And she'll... need a friend" he said hoarsely. He weakly lifted his hand to reach for Shiro's face, but he didn't have the strength. Shiro saw this and lifted Lance hand for him. He felt Lance's thin fingers brush against the stubble on his cheek.

"We can build a dog house for them" Shiro continued. "And- and we'll paint the whole house blue. The brightest blue. The neighbors will hate us" Lance made a noise that almost sounded like a laugh.

"We'll be happy" his voice was barely audible. He couldn't keep his eyes open anymore.

"Yeah, baby" Shiro said softly. "We'll be happy. Forever. Happily ever after" They both fell silent.

Lance's breaths grew shorter, the pauses between grew longer. His lips fell open as he let out small pained noises. He was in complete agony. The storm continued on around them, though it had let up a bit. Shiro considered making a run for it, but he knew that it was pointless. Lance would never make it. And any movement would cause even more pain for Lance.

It was the hardest decision Shiro ever had to make.

Through the deafening sounds of the rain, Lance could hear Shiro singing softly in his ear.

~

When the others finally found them, the storm had long passed. The morning light bathed the spot that Shiro and Lance were huddled. Allura sprinted to them with a questioning face.

Shiro cranes his neck to look at her. His face had smears of dirt and tracks of tears. He looked beyond exhausted.

"Shiro...?"Allura said questioningly. Shiro smiled weakly, more tears dripping down his nose, falling onto the boy clutched in his arms. He shook his head, his face breaking.

"He's gone"

[stompingdaisies]

Hey you, yeah, you! Right there! Do you love shance? Do you love possibly soul-crushing, tear-jerker angst that'll make you claw at your heart and possibly hate yourself? If you answered yes to both, boy do I have a deal for you! Me and many others are proud to bring to you, people of the site known as tumblr, @shangst-week !!! Follow the link to the blog for more information!