#voltron fanfiction

[mothmanavenue]

In conjuntion with this art piece here

...

The war doesn’t end with a crash or a bang. Nothing explodes in a fiery shower the way he’d read about in books as a kid. There's no rocking of the ground as the world shifts under their feet, and a curling anxiety in his gut as he desperately reaches out in the link for a glimmer of one just one of his teammates, his family, his lover.

There’s just the dead drop of a falling lion as a ceasefire is called. It’s just the feeling of his fingers relaxing from a white knuckled grip on Red’s controls and his head falling back with a dull thud against the headrest of the pilot’s chair. It’s the unwinding of his spine as he slumps, all his strength and exhaustion collapsing in on him as he surrenders flight back to his lion, her battle roar softening to a gentle rumble in the back of his mind. It’s the gasps of relief and whispered gratitude of his family echoing in his ears, letting him know they’re safe, they’ve made it, it’s finally done.

Keith is completely unsurprised to note which one he prefers. 

Red’s purr is a constant source of comfort in his mind as he curls his legs toward his chest, eyes squinted in lazy, bone deep weariness, brain barely processing Shiro and Allura from their respective command stations outlining the conditions of ceasefire. He can barely think about anything outside the cramping in his fingers and the bleariness of his eyes from entire successive days spent raising Voltron’s sword, pouring his energy and willpower into convincing the strongest weapons in the universe to bend to his will.  

It’s ok if he misses something. The team will catch him up. They always have, when the tiredness consumes him, and he checks out of conversations and discussion, slumping against the nearest comforting shoulder. 

Allura’s voice is as sharp and clear as the crown that adorns her head; the queen of Altea in all her glory commands her troops from the midst of battle. Keith’s attention had been laser focused on ensuring Voltron’s continued presence, but nothing in the world could keep him from watching for Allura’s flashing blue light as she approached Haggar, now withered and raging, and knelt in front of her. Keith missed what was said, the words exchanged. But he saw the tightening of his Queen, his sister’s, shoulders, and the hand wrapping tight around the witch’s neck. 

It’s been a long eight days on this earth of his.

His brain clocks out in that moment, and he rides the warm haze he’s in, letting the satisfaction of success settle into his bones. It’s not time for celebration just yet. It will come later once the dead is counted and the shrouds are laid. Keith knows better than most the toll of war, and he dreads the time that will come when the lists of the dead will be handed to them, and he will need hours, days, weeks, to grieve people he did and didn’t know and names he’s cherished and ones he’s never heard, and each loss will still hit like a blow to the ribs. After that, the celebration will come. The ballrooms of the castle will glow with life and Hunk will dress in gold, Shiro’s white hair will gleam in the light, and Pidge will protest that she just won a war, she deserves a drink. Allura will stand regal at their side, and her shoulders will be light, free from the burden of an avenger, and she will turn to them with a gleaming grin and they won’t have any choice but to smile back at her. 

And lance.

Lance will be so handsome in his blue suit, golden and silver threaded in painstaking embroidery in the bed of deep sky. His hair will fall loose and natural in his eyes, heavenly blues, and earthy brown under the string set of his eyebrows, and he’ll gleam like a freshly lit candle. 

He’ll take Keith’s breath away and Keith will never want it back. 

But that comes after.

Right now, here, Red lands on dusty earth and grumbles in his head about doing all the work. He’s sure none of the other lions give their other halves this much shit. He loves her so fiercely it burns his throat and eyes. He can’t believe he ever spent a day outside of her. Can’t believe he wasn’t raised alongside this wonderful, temperamental, protective, grouchy cat, who bossed him and fussed him, and purred and cooed when he screamed in his dreams. Can’t believe there ever was a time he resigned himself to not having this. What a fool he was. 

The wave of emotion fills the cockpit in a lilting hum, and she lights up around him, Voltron blue piercing through the chunks in his armour. Red is as alive as a blaze and warm as a hearth in his head. 

Her mouth drops open with one final swell of affection, as she releases her paladin to his home ground. 

Keith murmurs a breathy thank you i love you you’re everything to me, as he stumbles out, hand grasping the cool metal as he comes to a rest on the shifting sands. The sand is warm from fire and fighting and it hits him all at one.

He crouches down, head hanging as he pants and gasps for breath. The emotion of the past few days shutter his eyesight till all he sees in the grains of sand sticking to his gauntlets. His head spins and his hair is falling out of the ponytail he’d tied it back in, and his breath is coming hard now. 

Something is missing. Somethings not quite right.

The swords have fallen, the helmets tossed to the side, red looms protective behind him. The shields are down the guards are dropped and he can feel the press of the Voltron bond that lets him know his team is landing nearby, drawn together with a gravitational pull.

He draws in breath, cool and refreshing and tinged with the scent of burning. Around him the sand is interspersed with freshly formed glass. 

He raises his head, expecting to see the heavens above him. He wants to take in the freshly healed scar of the newly collapsed Rigel star system. Wants to know how the blazing lights of thousands of planets worth of warfare look set against the familiar earth sky. He think he might look at the constellations, like he did not far from here a hundred years ago, tucked into his dad's strong, solid arms, the scratch of a stubbly chin accompanying a moving mouth as it named Orion, Cassiopeia, Gemini. 

He looks up expecting to see stars, and instead, he sees the sun.

Lance's smile is crooked, and his breath comes fast, like he ran, as he hovers over him. Their faces are so close he can count each individual freckle on this boy’s face, as precious to him as the gleam of moonlight cutting paths across the castle hallways. Oh this boy, this absolute death of him. 

“Hey lover,” the words leave Lance’s mouth with ease and anticipation, years of pent-up adoration spilling out with every vowel, “we did it.”

Keith feels his own smile steal across his face, “yeah, we did.” 

If possible, Lance's smile grows wider, crinkling the already forming smile lines at his eyes. Keith thinks of the products that line the counter of his bathroom sink, just waiting for a pretty bronzed hand to pick them up when the separation hits, and their resolves are softened by the press of late hours and long silence. 

A silly waste. Keith likes this look on Lance.

Aging.

What a wonderful thing he never thought he’d get to have. 

“You know what that means?” 

Lance's voice is smooth, the tremble that only a practiced ear could pick out masked by the sincerity and anticipation that has dogged their every conversation since that night on the dais. 

“We’ll wait.”

“Until when, Keith?”

“Until it’s done. When it’s done then we can have this. We can’t lose everyone for each other.”

“I’m yours?”

“When it’s done then. And when it’s done, I’m bringing you home with me. I’m putting a ring on your finger and I’m never letting you go. You’re it for me, Keith.”

“I’m not asking you to wait, that’s not fair-“

“I followed you into space Keith. I followed you to the point of no return. You aren’t asking me anything and that’s a damn shame. I’d give you anything you asked for.”

“When it’s done lance, when it’s done, I’ll ask you anything you want me to. I’ll come home with you, I’ll share a bed with you. I’ll be yours as long as you’ll have me.”

“Don’t joke, honey,”

“I’m not. You’re mine, lance”

“And-“

“you’re mine.”

The words reverberate in his head, and oh. This is what it was. The smooth slot of this thing that’s been so long coming.

Lance drops to his knees in front of him, one warm hand coming to rest on his cheek. Keith leans his head into it. He’s too tired for restraint, or shame, or any other useless emotion that would’ve held a younger him back. He’s got nothing to lose. He’s won. There’s no reason left to hold back. What a novel idea. It coats him and leaves him shivering at the feel of a gloved thumb running gently over his cheekbones.

His eyes fall back open from their unconscious close, and Lance is so close.

Honest, sweet, honourable lance. The sandpaper to all his rough edges. The iron that absorbed his burning heat. The shore that meets his rocking tide. 

Keith can hear the thunder of Pidge’s feet as they run across the uneven terrain. Hunk is following after her, his voice a cacophony of relief and joy. Shiro’s laughter is warm and thick as honey, coming easier than it has since aliens were a late-night story. Allura is giggling, high and bright, and a little hysterical. It’s ok. She’ll pull herself back together and they’ll be there to fill the cracks with liquid gold.

(Or glitter. She’d like glitter.)

Lance is watching him, and Keith’s eyes drift back to him. Lance hasn’t looked away in years. Something, some last resistance hidden away so deep he didn’t even know to search for a cure, falls away. 

He leans in and closes the gap.

...

posted on ao3 here

[still--kicking]

One of my goals for this year was to post something on ao3 and on god y'all I'm trying to cook and upload something before midnight

It's going to be a oneshot where Keith and Lance talk about the fucking gameshow because I have thoughts and feelings about that episode

Send thots and prayers I get it done in time ✨

[legend-of-voltron-rewrite]

Welp. That's the end of Season Two!

Thank you to everyone who has supported me thus far! If it weren't for you guys, there's every chance that I would have abandonned this. This is the longest work I've ever made, and I hope you continue to support me throughout the next installment.

Special thanks to CatGirlBeast09, Username1232, and Barakas for your repeat comments! They make my day, really, and I still kick my feet whenever I see them, haha.

The Season Three rewrite will be coming after a one week break, just so I don't get burnt out. This time, I really do mean 'one week', and not 'before September but actually half-way through'. Pinky promise.

Hmm, I don't wanna spoil much, but we're gonna get a lot of Shiro stuff in the upcoming work, so Shiro fans will be fed - I swear it.

Thank you all once again for supporting me, and I'll see you in two weeks!

[howthemoonweeps]

would you spare me your voice if i called?

part 2 of my lance-centric post-canon klance fic - part one can be found here on tumblr and here on ao3 <3

word count: 1606

The next morning, Lance wakes up. 

He gets out of bed and trudges downstairs, greeting his family who had all gathered for the New Year’s festivities. Lance snags a plate of breakfast, grins and laughs and takes part in all the fun, and generally tries not to burst into ugly tears over the state of his declining well-being. 

The day passes by as all days do, but in the evening, when his smile starts to slip, he feels his mom’s eyes watching him. 

Muttering a quiet excuse to whoever’s listening, Lance slips out the back door.

(He can’t bear to turn back and acknowledge her, not yet. He doesn’t deserve to face her worry and concern over his melodramatic misery.)

Outside, he strides through the fields of juniberry flowers, heading straight to the barn where his favorite cow resides. Once upon a time he would’ve paused to bask in the dusk light, picking flowers for those who would never come. Once upon a time he would’ve believed there was still meaning to the actions.

Lance arrives, spotting Kaltenecker curled up in her pen and munching on some grass. He smiles fondly. The old cow had always made herself right at home wherever she went, even adjusting quickly to Earth despite spending so long out in space. 

At least one of them is enjoying the retired life, Lance muses. 

Crouching down, he pats her on the flank and earns a disgruntled moo. “Happy New Year’s, girl,” he tells her, laughing at the unimpressed look he gets in return. 

For just a few moments, Lance lets himself lean against her, knowing that sooner or later he’ll have to go back inside and face the music. He loves his family with all of his heart and then some, but it’s been getting harder and harder to pretend that he’s not miserable on the farm. He’d hate to ruin their celebration with his troubles.

Lance sighs, and nudges Kaltenecker. “Do you ever miss space?” He asks her genuinely.

“Moo,” she responds, flicking an ear. Lance snorts.

“I’ll take that as a no.” He gets up and stretches, the one-sided conversation having fulfilled its purpose of lightening his mood, and he heads to the door. “See you later, Kaltenecker.”

Before he can step outside, however, the barn’s walls tremble. 

Lance freezes, knowing that it can only mean one thing: a visitor from space. While he knows that Earth’s safety measures would prevent a hostile ship from ever getting near, while he knows that the Coalition and the Blade of Marmora have made sweeping strides toward universal peace, adrenaline starts to course through his veins at the unexpected guest.

He peeks out the door at the approaching pod, telling Kaltenecker, “Be on your guard.” The cow whips her tail, which Lance likes to think is an affirmative. He sees his family gathering on the porch as well, their expressions confused and surprised, and his gaze hardens. Whoever this was, they’d need to get through him if they wanted to ruin the celebrations.

The door opens, creating a ramp onto the fields, and …

“Keith?!”

Lance flings the barn door open and runs out to where Keith Kogane is walking down the ramp. The Marmorite – who is supposed to be out in space, what the hell – immediately locks eyes with him, and the resulting grin is enough to make Lance stop in his tracks.

Keith looks so unabashedly happy to see him, of all people. Lance is almost tempted to turn around and see if there’s someone else he’s looking at, but then Keith’s striding over and pulling him into a hug.

“Happy New Year’s, Lance,” he murmurs, dangerously close to Lance’s ear. Lance can only hug him back and hope his face isn’t as red as it feels.

“What are you doing here?” He chokes out, still overwhelmed by the fact that Keith had just seen fit to drop in unannounced when– “Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, helping people? Spreading universal peace?” At Keith’s raised eyebrow, Lance quickly backtracks, “Not that I’m not happy to see you too! Happy New Year’s, and all that. But seriously, what’s up?”

“I was in the area and wanted to see you,” he explains, “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Keith’s tender expression is almost too much to bear, and it’s made doubly worse when Lance realizes that they’ve been hugging for a good minute. He can hear his family murmuring behind him, no doubt preparing to tease him to hell and back for his surprise visitor, but honestly? 

He tightens his hold around Keith and tries not to tear up when he’s squeezed in return. Soon enough, Keith will see how stagnant Lance has grown, but for now he’ll take as much comfort as he can from this much-needed embrace.

“Yeah, it’s been too long,” he mumbles. Then, with an internal struggle akin to getting out of bed in the morning, he disentangles himself from Keith. Before he can linger in their proximity, or do something humiliating like drop his head onto Keith’s shoulder, Lance takes a step back and jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “Now that you’re here, why don’t you enjoy some dinner cooked up by my mom?”

___

Lance’s family welcomes Keith with open arms, which delights Lance but totally flusters Keith, if his awkward smile and general tension had anything to say about it.

“Honestly, dude, I don’t know what you expected,” Lance says through a mouthful of tamales. “Were you just gonna land your giant spaceship, say hi, and then leave?”

“If I say no, will your nephew and niece let me go?” Instead of being able to enjoy the food he was promised, Keith stands awkwardly in the middle of the living room while Nadia and Silvio use him as a jungle gym. Lance totally isn’t marveling at Keith’s ability to carry both of the troublemakers with ease, despite them being perfectly healthy eight- and nine-year-olds. It’s not impressive at all. 

Lance shovels more tamales into his mouth, so he doesn’t have a repeat of the “grizzled” incident.

Belatedly, he realizes that he didn’t answer Keith’s question, but the other seems to have solved it on his own when he finally drops down next to Lance.

“Your family’s a handful,” Keith chuckles, reaching for a plate. “If I hadn’t promised a storytime later about their uncle Lance they never would’ve let me eat.”

Lance waves a hand in dismissal. “Nadia and Silvio are just energetic–they’re still the youngest of the family and they take full advantage of it. But if you ask me,” he grins, leaning in close to whisper, “I’m the key to their hearts.”

“Is that so?” Keith raises an eyebrow, mouth curling into a smile, and suddenly Lance feels like he’s treading in uncharted waters. “Guess I’ll have to work harder, then.”

Lance coughs and leans back, the moment lost. He opens his mouth to respond, ready to fire off a quip to distract from his reddening face, but thankfully his mom swoops in to rescue him.

“So, Keith, what else are you planning to do while on Earth?” she asks, collecting their empty plates. “Have you seen your own family yet?”

Keith brushes a hand over the back of his neck. “I’ve already visited Shiro and Curtis and wished them a happy New Year’s–after this I have nothing else to do except go back to the base and get back to work.”

Oh boy. Keith has no idea what Lance’s mom is like if he thinks he can just leave after dinner. She opens her mouth, and Lance preemptively winces. “That won’t do at all! You must stay the night, at least. Here, Lance can show you to a spare room.”

Futilely, both Lance and Keith protest. “I wouldn’t want to impose,” Keith splutters, while Lance objects, “Do we even have a spare room?”

Lance’s mom pats his cheek lovingly. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

___

To Lance’s dread, the Mcclain household did not, in fact, have a spare room.

“I can still leave.” Keith stands still in the doorway next to Lance, gazing forlornly at their only bedding option. “My pod is literally right outside–I can just fly back to the base and then you won’t have to share your room with me for the night.”

Lance is already shaking his head. This arrangement is going to be the death of him, but he’d rather die in his sleep than face a mom angry at his lack of hospitality. “It’s fine, dude, you can just take the bed and I’ll get cozy on the floor.” To emphasize his point, Lance fashions some sheets and pillows into a makeshift mattress, and plops to the ground.

“I’m not kicking you out of your own bed!” Keith exclaims, eyes widening in horror. Unfortunately, he doesn’t paint the most intimidating picture with his Hot Topic Shadow the Hedgehog pajamas. Lance has to stifle a snort. Seriously, when did he even get those?

“I’m telling you, it’s fine.” Before Keith can protest further, Lance wraps a pillow around his ears and makes himself comfortable. “La la la, can’t hear you over how nice and soft it is down here. Doesn’t it just make you want to go to bed and not argue anymore?” 

Now it’s Keith’s turn to snort, but Lance can still feel how his movements are still measured and tentative as he climbs into Lance’s bed. His hand wavers near the light switch. “Good night, Lance,” he hears Keith whisper.

In the darkness, Lance allows himself one soft smile before sleep overtakes him. “Good night, Keith.”

[vldkeith]

millennium born, industry made: a y2k celebrity au klance fanfic 🎥🌐📀🏳️‍🌈📸

read chapter one here!

art by @vldlance

In a world still celebrating that the y2k bug did not, miraculously, instigate the complete collapse of society, Keith Kogane once again finds himself navigating the glittery, plastic world of Hollywood as golden actor Takashi Shirogane's far less likable younger brother. He's become used to the paparazzi, talk shows, and horrifically low-cut denim of his current surroundings, but he can't quite find it in himself to allow annoying newcomer Lance McClain to schmooze his way into mentorship by Shiro as many others have done. Lance is nothing if not persistent, however, and he slowly carves his way into Keith's life and heart despite Keith's best efforts. Keith is well aware of the public scrutiny and cruelty that comes with being openly gay, and has vowed to avoid living through that at all costs—but how can he fall in love when he's not allowed to show it? Can a restricted but safe love be a replacement for an open one? Or is there, just maybe, a chance that this new millennium can hold a space for even an incredibly public relationship between people like Keith and Lance?

finally finally posting this! i've been working on it for a while and have most of the fic planned out :] this is my first chaptered fic like...ever? so i'm really excited and i hope y'all will enjoy this intro to it as much as i enjoyed making it.

please tell me your thoughts if you have any! i embrace the serialized nature of fanfiction, so i'm not against people giving me feedback and ideas even if i have the overarching story planned.

again, i hope you enjoy!! i recommend playing 2000s music while you read :)

[evi-anxiety]

I would like to publicly announce that Voltron is the only piece of media that has made me want to avidly write fanfiction for it

[valyrie630]

My current hyperfixation combo is so odd, like what do you mean all my brainrot is centered around voltron and top gun??? IN 2024

the voltron one makes sense because I started watching the show for the first time (I wasn’t in fandom when the show was airing), BUT TOP GUN?? All I wanted to do was rewatch the movies and suddenly I have icemav and hangster brainrot.

Anyways send help, or fic recs

[kangchinmae-blog1]

Does anyone remember this fic's name?

I read this Klance fanfic a while ago but forgot the name and have been looking for it ever since.....

Keith and Lance are college rivals (for the shortest amount of time). Keith, Lance and Pidge are all in this sexuality theory class?? And Keith is roommates with Shiro, so Lance kind of assume Keith and Shiro are dating when they're not?? And in chapter 2 or 3 I think, both Keith and Lance are in this fraternity party and Keith goes like "Lance, stop me if I'm wrong" and kisses him!! And then they become fuck buddies!! But they start developing feelings and Keith becomes anxious™

(I remember Lance saying something like "contrary to popular belief, my top 1 priority is not getting into your pants")

[burritello3000]

I honestly really wanted a Voltron Christmas episode where the paladins try to celebrate Christmas in space and everyone's singing and everything goes horribly wrong. In a funny way.

Wait... that's a good fanfic idea... Wait a sec... Stay tuned!

[deepestuniversallove]

I am actually writing a multi-chapter fanfic for once!! Just posted chapters 3 and 4 after a 5 year hiatus.

This is the MAIN fanfic that describes my own Voltron AU

Basically, it's VLD season 1 and 2 from Lotor's team's perspective. Plus new characters joining their team!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18639481/chapters/161902708

[sonekwi]

☆ ⸻ the white paladin, keith x reader

chapter four: discoveries

characters/pairings: keith, female reader

genre: fanfiction

summary: the red lion is in the possession of a ruthless galra general and taking it back is no small feat. although, you never expected to find another lion.

word count: 2,216

links: previous, next, wattpad, masterlist

a/n: i'm sorry about the shorter chapter. i just couldn't find the right flow for this one no matter how many times i rewrote it. i still hope you enjoy!

You, Pidge, Shiro, and Keith sneak inside the Galra ship, crawling through the hole in the metal hull Pidge had cut out. As you look around, you notice that you're inside some sort of engine control room. Pillars of raw electricity arch from floor to ceiling along the entire length of the room, crackling and buzzing. You nervously keep your distance.

"Pidge, what's your ETA?" Lance asks over the intercom.

"We're in," Pidge responds.

"We shouldn't stay in one spot for long," you say.

Shiro nods. "You're right, let's get moving."

The group sneaks throughout the ship, carefully avoiding the Galra soldiers patrolling around. The purple lights illuminating your path seem to pulse with an eerie and malicious energy, constantly reminding you of the danger you're in.

Shiro stops as the group comes up to an intersection, staring down each of the two halls that stretch out before you. For a moment he tenses up, almost as if he's paralyzed. You reach out and grab his arm, and he flinches away from you.

"Are you okay?" you ask.

"I've been here before," Shiro says, his voice barely above a whisper. "When the Galra had taken us, they– they brought us here."

Pidge perks up, "That means the rest of your crew might still be here. We have to rescue them!" he exclaims.

Shiro shakes his head, "Pidge, we don't have time. We have to get the Red Lion back to Arus.

"But we can't just leave prisoners here!" Pidge shouts. You hiss at him to keep his voice down, but he glares at you instead.

Shiro steps closer to Pidge, "Look, no one understands that more than me, but in war, we have to make hard choices. Now, let's get moving," he says and begins to walk down one of the halls.

"No!" Pidge shouts again and Shiro stops. "Commander Holt is my father... He and my brother were the ones on Kerberos mission with you."

You give Pidge a quizzical look. That doesn't make sense. Commander Holt only had one son, Matt, and as Pidge said, he was on the Kerberos mission. So how the heck is Pidge his child?

Your eyes go wide, the dots finally connecting. No freaking way! You're his daughter Katie!? You're the kid that was blacklisted from the Garrison!

The only thing different is the glasses and short hair. How did Iverson not see it? How did you not see it? You met Commander Holt's children before the Kerberos crew left Earth. You were there with Keith to say goodbye to Shiro. You literally shook Pidge's hand that day!

     Wow, that is freaking embarrassing.

"Commander Holt is your father?" Shiro repeats.

"Yes! I have been searching everywhere for my family and I am not going to give up when I am this close!" Pidge says.

"We can split up," you blurt out, still caught up in your revelation. "Keith and I can go look for the Red Lion while you guys go look for the prisoners."

"Alright," Shrio says, agreeing with your idea. "Let's go then, I remember where they are held."

Keith glances between you and Shiro. "Are you sure that's a good idea? There are Galra soldiers everywhere."

Shiro places a hand on his shoulder. "Minor change of plans, but you'll be fine. Just remember, patience yields focus-"

     A door down one of the halls opens, the sound of footsteps echoing along the walls. The group splits frantically, and you and Keith sprint down one of the halls. You skid to a stop as you quickly come upon another intersection. But you don't have time to think as the Galra soldiers are heading in your direction. You grab Keith's arm and run in a random direction.

     When you can't hear any footsteps other than your own, you slow down and eventually come upon another intersection of halls. You hum, wondering if you can feel the same pulsing energy you did when searching for the Blue Lion, but you have nothing.

     "Where do we even go?" Keith says, pacing between the two available directions. You can't feel the Red Lion, but you can definitely feel his growing impatience. "We don't even know where we are."

     You grab his hand to force his attention on you, "Hey, remember what Shiro said? Patience yields focus," you say. "Try feeling the Red Lion's energy. You'll find it."

     "Right," Keith huffs and closes his eyes. You watch his expression shift, his brows furrowing as he focuses. As he stands there, your eyes slowly begin to wander around his face. They drift from his eyes, to his nose, to his cheeks... to his mouth. You've never been able to keep yourself from admiring him when he wasn't looking.

     It's something you've come to do subconsciously.

     "I can feel it..." Keith says softly and his voice snaps you out of your trance. You frantically drop his hand and look away, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. For a split second, you thought he was talking about you staring at him.

     You mentally cuss at yourself and feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. You're supposed to be mad at him, not hopelessly crushing on him. You seriously need to get out of your head.

     Keith opens his eyes, "I got it. This way!" he says and you follow him.

     The two of you avoid the patrolling soldiers as Keith tracks down the Red Lion, and eventually, you enter a large hangar. Cargo boxes and supplies are scattered about, but what's in the center is what catches your attention.

     "What the heck?" Keith mutters.

You pause, "Allura? Are you seeing this?" you ask over the intercom.

"Hold on, (y/n), let me pull up your feed," she says and then there's a very long silence.

Not one, but two Voltron Lions sit in the middle of the hangar, protected by their force fields. The Red Lion is there, as expected, but you stare at the other. Its metal body is entirely white, save for the few crystal blue and yellow accents consistent with Altean architecture and design.

The strange Lion's bright eyes seem to eagerly lock onto you as you approach it.

     "I don't understand," Allura's voice barely crackles through the speakers in your helmet. "There's only five Lions..."

     "Do you think the Galra built it?" Keith asks, running up to his Lion. As surprised as he is, he needs to focus on bonding with the Red Lion.

     "That would be impossible," Allura says. "The blueprints died with my father."

You suddenly feel a pulse of energy, but not in the same way as you did with the Blue Lion. It's as if the strange Lion's very essence is tethered to you, and you can feel that tether tug throughout your whole body, urging you. You stop right in front of it and place your hands against the force field. The material ripples at your touch, but it doesn't open. The Lion purrs deeply.

"It's me! Keith!"

     You look over at your friend, wondering what's going on. He stands in front of the Red Lion, who doesn't let him in either. His hands push against the force field.

      "I am your Paladin!" he shouts, but the Red Lion continues to ignore him. "I'm bonding with you! Hey, we're connected–"

     A group of soldiers burst into the hangar and begin shooting at the two of you. You raise your arm in front of you, activating your shield.

     "Why did you have to be so loud?" you snap at Keith and run over to him.

     "Why weren't you watching our backs?" Keith says to you. He transforms his bayard into a sword and rushes at the Galra soldiers.

"Oh, well I'm sorry!" you sneer at him and activate your bayard. You stop for a small moment as it materializes into a double-bladed scythe, the weapon feeling balanced and weighted in your hand. "This is new–"

A Galra soldier shoots at you, interrupting your gawking. You brace yourself behind your shield, the lasers dispersing in bright flashes upon impact. Then, for a small moment, there's a pause. You take the opportunity to charge the Galra soldier.

As you join the battle, you try your best to remember what you learned at the Garrison. students were required to take a hand-to-hand combat class, but you're much more used to the small batons and wooden knives they provided rather than a lengthy scythe.

You swing the blade at the feet of a Galra soldier, knocking it down on its back. You swiftly bring the other blade down right on its chest. It penetrates the armor, exposing a bundle of wires and computers.

     "Robots?" you mutter, then grunt when another Galra soldier body slams you.

     You stumble and catch yourself on one of the cargo boxes. The soldier doesn't waste a second and swings its fist. You manage to move just in time, its knuckles slamming right next to your head. As you side-step, you raise your scythe and swing at the soldier. The blade pierces through its back and it falls limp to the ground.

     "(y/n)!" Keith calls out. "Hold onto something!"

     "What?" you look over at him and see him standing at a control panel. You grab onto the cargo box, your fingers wrapping around the rope strapped across it.

     Keith presses a button and the hangar door opens. Your body jerks as everything gets sucked out into space. You cuss under your breath and you fight to hold on.

     Keith holds onto the panel. He struggles to reach the button and close the doors, the vacuum of space overpowering him. You watch as his grip slips and your heart leaps into your throat.

     "Keith!" you scream when he gets sucked into space. You let go of the cargo box and follow after him. As your body is thrown out of the hangar, you reach out for your friend.

     "What are you doing!?" he shouts.

     "What do you think I'm doing?" you shout back. You're almost to him. Just a little more and you can grab onto him.

In a flash of red and white, Keith is gone. You scream, terrified of what space monster could have eaten him. But you stop when you see the Red Lion circle back around. It saved him.

A fearsome roar rattles throughout you and you turn to see the other Lion heading right for you. Its jaw opens and it scoops you up into the safety of its mouth.

You lay on the floor for a moment, panting as you try to gather your bearings. When the inside of the Lion lights up, you scramble to your feet and dust off your armor.

"Uh, thank you!" you call out and get a purr in response. You look around and the inside layout is nothing like the Blue Lion's. Granted, everything about this Lion seems different, either subtly or majorly.

"(y/n), are you okay?" Keith asks over the intercom.

"Yeah," you say, quickly finding your way to the cockpit. "Let's get back to the castle."

"Copy that."

⁀➷

     Your feet hit the solid concrete of the courtyard. Behind you, the sixth Voltron Lion sits down on its metal haunches, its eyes watching you. As the others return with their Lions, Allura and Coran come running out into the courtyard.

The two Alteans stop dead in their tracks at the sight of the sixth Lion. Allura remains as stunned as she was when you found it, but now she seems to truly believe it's real now that it's right in front of her. Coran, however, doesn't seem as surprised.

"After all these years..." he says, moving closer to the Lion.

"There's another one?" Pidge gawks as she steps out of her Lion.

"Holy crow!" Lance exclaims, running up to you.

"Can anyone explain what's going on?" Hunk asks. "Why is there a sixth Lion?"

Coran looks to everyone, then gestures to the robotic feline sitting behind you, "When King Alfor was constructing the Lions, the White Lion was the first," he says. "It was... an experimental design."

"How come I never knew of this?" Allura asks.

"Your father had swept its existence under the rug," Coran continues explaining. "Although it was powerful, the White Lion was deemed too flawed to be fit for the battlefield. It was stashed away to be used for scraps... but King Alfor couldn't get himself to take it apart."

"That doesn't explain how Zarkon had it, seeing as he didn't know about it," Shiro notes.

"King Alfor knew the White Lion would still be dangerous in the wrong hands and sent it away with the other Lions," Coran says. "Zarkon simply must have found it."

"Did it have a Paladin before... everything?" you ask, feeling a slight tug on the invisible tether between you and the White Lion. Deep down, you hope it means something, that it's real. You hope you aren't imagining things.

Coran shakes his head, "No."

"Well, it sure doesn't hurt to have some extra firepower," Shiro says. "Sendak is still coming for the Lions and we'll want all the help we can get to defeat him."

"Right, and now that we have the other Lions, let's go get the Black Lion," Allura says.

[yeeiguess]

I'm desperately looking for a fic i was certain I bookmarked. It's a Voltron fic where Keith and Lance get stranded on, basically, a cowboy planet. They have no way to communicate with the team, and they become... cowboys ? Outlaws ? Mercenaries ? Because it's kill or be killed. They get together, and the team finds them after they do their biggest robbery. I think they're called the McClains ? For some reason ? They live at an inn and eat pies. At some point Lance gets up really badly.

Anyway I've looked up every tag I can think of and I still can't find it so please please please if you know what I'm talking about, send me the fic name/link

[aspenmissing]

【Ｓｅａｓｏｎ　１】

ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴠᴏʟᴛʀᴏɴ - ᴏᴠᴇʀᴡʜᴇʟᴍᴇᴅ ʙᴜᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ, ꜱɪx ᴀꜱᴘɪʀɪɴɢ ꜱᴘᴀᴄᴇ ᴇxᴘʟᴏʀᴇʀꜱ ʟᴇᴀʀɴ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇ ᴠᴏʟᴛʀᴏɴ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀꜰᴜʟ ʀᴏʙᴏᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ. ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1 ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2 ᴘᴀʀᴛ 3 ᴘᴀʀᴛ 4 ᴘᴀʀᴛ 5

ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴀꜱꜱᴇᴍʙʟʏ ʀᴇQᴜɪʀᴇᴅ - ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ ᴀʟʟᴜʀᴀ ᴘᴜᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʟᴀᴅɪɴꜱ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʀᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇʏ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏꜱᴇ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ꜰᴏᴄᴜꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ'��ʟ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀʀɴ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴏʀᴍ ᴠᴏʟᴛʀᴏɴ. ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ ᴀʟʟᴜʀᴀ ᴘᴜᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʟᴀᴅɪɴꜱ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʀᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇʏ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏꜱᴇ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ꜰᴏᴄᴜꜱ. ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1 ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2

ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʟᴀᴅɪᴀᴛᴏʀ - ꜱʜɪʀᴏ ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ᴅʀᴀᴡ ᴏɴ ᴘᴀɪɴꜰᴜʟ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀɪᴇꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜɪꜱ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴀ ᴍᴀꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴇᴠɪʟ ʀᴏʙᴏᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴛᴇɴꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ ɪɴ ᴀʀᴜꜱ, ꜰᴏʀᴄɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴏɴꜱ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1 ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2

ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ ᴏꜰ ʟɪᴏɴꜱ - ᴀꜱ ᴏɴᴇ ᴘᴀʟᴀᴅɪɴ ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴛᴇɴꜱ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴇᴀᴍ, ɪɴᴠᴀᴅᴇʀꜱ ꜱᴛᴏʀᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇꜱᴛʀᴏʏ ɪᴛꜱ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴄʀʏꜱᴛᴀʟ ɪɴ ᴀɴ ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ ᴠᴏʟᴛʀᴏɴ.ꜰᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ ᴏꜰ ʟɪᴏɴꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1

ᴛᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʟᴍᴇʀᴀ - ʜᴜɴᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀᴀɴ ᴛʀʏ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴛʀɪᴇᴠᴇ ᴀ ɴᴇᴡ ᴄʀʏꜱᴛᴀʟ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʟᴍᴇʀᴀ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴇᴀᴍ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇᴠᴇɴᴛ ꜱᴇɴᴅᴀᴋ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʟᴇᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴠᴏʟᴛʀᴏɴ. ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1 ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2

ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ꜰʟɪɢʜᴛ - ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʟᴀᴅɪɴꜱ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴀʟᴛᴇᴀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴍʙᴀʀᴋ ꜰᴏʀ ʙᴀʟᴍᴇʀᴀ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴜʟꜰɪʟʟ ʜᴜɴᴋ'ꜱ ᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱʜᴀʏ. ᴇɴ ʀᴏᴜᴛᴇ, ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ᴀ ᴅɪꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱ ꜱɪɢɴᴀʟ ᴡᴀʏʟᴀʏꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴡ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇʏ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ ɪɴᴠᴇꜱᴛɪɢᴀᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪɢɴᴀʟ'ꜱ ꜱᴏᴜʀᴄᴇ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʟᴀᴅɪɴꜱ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴀʟᴛᴇᴀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴍʙᴀʀᴋ ꜰᴏʀ ʙᴀʟᴍᴇʀᴀ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴜʟꜰɪʟʟ ʜᴜɴᴋ'ꜱ ᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱʜᴀʏ. ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1 ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2

ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʟᴍᴇʀᴀ - ᴀʟʟᴜʀᴀ, ᴄᴏʀᴀɴ, ꜱᴏᴜʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʟᴀᴅɪɴꜱ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʟᴍᴇʀᴀ ᴛᴏ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴀᴛɪᴠᴇꜱ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴀʟ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ɢᴀʟʀᴀ ꜱʜɪᴘ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇ ᴠᴏʟᴛʀᴏɴ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1

ʀᴇʙɪʀᴛʜ - ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʟᴀᴅɪɴꜱ ꜱᴄʀᴀᴍʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀʀᴅ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴀ ɢᴀʟʀᴀ ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʀ, ᴀʟʟᴜʀᴀ ʜᴏᴘᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇʀ ᴀɴᴄɪᴇɴᴛ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀꜱ ᴄᴀɴ ʜᴇᴀʟ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʟᴍᴇʀᴀ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱ��ᴠᴇ ɪᴛꜱ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ. ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1

ᴄʀʏꜱᴛᴀʟ ᴠᴇɴᴏᴍ - ᴀʟʟᴜʀᴀ ᴄᴏɴꜱɪᴅᴇʀꜱ ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛʙʀᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ ꜱᴀᴄʀɪꜰɪᴄᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴇᴀᴍ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ ᴍʏꜱᴛᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ ᴛᴜʀɴꜱ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴇᴇᴍꜱ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ʜᴜʀᴛʟɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅ ᴅᴏᴏᴍ. ᴀʟʟᴜʀᴀ ᴄᴏɴꜱɪᴅᴇʀꜱ ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛʙʀᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ ꜱᴀᴄʀɪꜰɪᴄᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴇᴀᴍ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ ᴍʏꜱᴛᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ ᴛᴜʀɴꜱ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴇᴇᴍꜱ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ʜᴜʀᴛʟɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅ ᴅᴏᴏᴍ. ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1 ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2

ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇxᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ - ᴀꜱ ᴘɪᴅɢᴇ ᴄᴏᴍʙꜱ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ꜱᴇɴᴅᴀᴋ'ꜱ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀɪᴇꜱ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴇᴀᴍ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛ ɢᴀʟʀᴀɴ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱᴘᴏʀᴛ ʜᴜʙ. ᴀʟʟᴜʀᴀ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴊᴏɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʟᴀᴅɪɴꜱ ɪɴ ɪɴꜰɪʟᴛʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɪɴ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴇxᴛʀᴀᴄᴛ ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴅᴇꜱᴘɪᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴇᴀᴍꜱ ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ. ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1 ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2

[legend-of-voltron-rewrite]

Just wanted to explain why Keith pulled up to his dad's grave with a small bottle of wine. In Korean tradition, when visiting someone's grave, you would usually have a glass of wine, which each person visiting would sip from, leaving more than enough to tip the rest over the gravestone. Just thought it'd be neat.

From now on, any post-chapter ramblings, i.e. information you didn't need to know to enjoy the story, will be posted here! I'll always give it at least one hour to avoid any spoilers :)

[howthemoonweeps]

bury me in your memories (i'm not the boy i ought to be)

with ten minutes left on the clock (at least where i'm at) i finished!!! here's a langsty fanfiction set post-canon to celebrate - or mourn - the end of 2024 <3

Dying was lonely.

Years ago, when Voltron was still needed throughout the universe and Lance still knew what it meant to feel alive, he had shoved Allura out of the way of a radiation flare and taken the brunt of it himself. His heart stopped, and it did not start again until Allura reached the Red Lion and revived him using her Altean magic.

Lance doesn’t know how long it took her. He couldn’t know, his only memories of the event being the excruciating pain before and the suffocating warmth after, a body on fire as Allura leaned over him. Yet despite the unsettling gap in his recollection, Lance knows intimately the feeling of death.

It’s a feeling that keeps him up at night, shivering despite the blankets heaped over his shoulders, shadows dancing on the walls as he muffles his cries to avoid disturbing his family. More often than not, Lance finds himself jerking awake from nightmares, his mind still tormenting him with the battlefield and always, always reminding him of death’s cold, isolating embrace.

On New Year’s Eve, Lance is grateful for the excuse to stay up and delay the looming terrors, even as he can’t help but ruminate over yet another year gone by. 

(Wasted.) 

The team (though they’re not much of a team anymore, are they?) had all called earlier to celebrate, despite the crazy time differences with everyone scattered throughout the far reaches of space. 

Each person reminisced on the memories they made in the past year and said what they hoped to accomplish in the year to come. Hunk had gushed over his culinary empire and all the recipes he perfected, pointing out the dishes he wanted the rest of the team to try at their next reunion. Pidge showed off their latest inventions, planning to diffuse throughout the Voltron Coalition and improve thousands of lives. Shiro proudly displayed the scarf he knitted, impossibly relaxed as he expressed his desire to take up more craft hobbies. Keith, eyes unbearably soft and face so full with open affection, just talked about his wish to aid as many people as he could with the Blade of Marmora.

And Lance?

When it came to his turn, he froze. For five embarrassing seconds, he racked his brain for something, anything memorable that set this year apart from the year before or the year coming up. Eventually, he cracked a smile, joking that he looks forward to all the corny lines he’ll bring into the new year. Everyone had groaned and moved on, unsurprised by his answer.

Now, Lance curls up in his bed, eyes burning as he scrolls through their group chat and tortures himself with his own inadequacy. The chat was meant to be a way for everyone to send updates about their lives, and while the others spammed it to their hearts’ content, it didn’t take long for Lance to drop out of the conversation and stay quiet for the most part. There were only so many pictures of juniberry flowers he could send before growing uncomfortably aware of his uneventful life.

He sighs and turns off his phone. His former teammates had all gone on to greatness, saving worlds and changing the entire universe for the better, while he was stuck in the past, a prison of his own making. His story was cut short, doomed to languish and collect dust on Earth, all so he could repeat the story of another.

And though he loves Allura too much to ever resent her, though he had given his life for her, he can’t help but feel as if he’s still giving, even though the girl he loved is gone and only ever saw him as a rebound. Yet here he is, watching over her favorite flowers with her marks on his face. 

Living as a farmer when all he had ever wanted was to fly.

He had tried for so long to convince himself that the farm life was what he wanted. After the war, a simple life should be what he, a child on the front lines, deserved. Still, as the years wore on and the days blended into each other, the simple life turned monotonous. Unbearable, even, when the night terrors refuse to leave him alone, the one companion he has left in his self-imposed solitude.

Tears spring up, so Lance shuts his eyes and buries his face into his pillow. God, he feels so ungrateful. He should be glad to have even made it out, happy to see another year when there were so many who couldn’t say the same. 

When Allura couldn’t say the same. 

Yet through it all, as Lance curls into himself and pretends that he’s not dreading the new year, loneliness climbs its way out of his throat in a sob that only just reaches the moonlight.

Dying was lonely, Lance thinks wistfully as he fades into a sleep that won’t last, but living like this wasn’t much better.

The clock strikes twelve.

[multi-verse-mania]

Hey everyone! So, I’ve been diving back into Voltron: Legendary Defender lately (especially since it’s leaving Netflix soon 😭), and I’ve been devouring fanfics like it’s 2018 all over again. 🖤

In my nostalgia, I even revisited some of the fics I’ve written—including one I started ages ago that’s very Langst-heavy. It’s been on and off for years because I keep getting pulled back into Voltron, but I’m really tempted to finally finish it this time!

Fun fact: the prologue I wrote for this fic is actually a one-shot I posted a while back! If you’re curious, here are the links:

Wattpad

Archive of Our Own (AO3)

I thought maybe having readers might keep me motivated. So, here’s my question: would you be interested in reading a Langst fanfic if I shared it?

Vote below and let me know! 🚀✨