#klangst fic

[wolfwoodscigarettes]

(Un)Forgotten - Klance fic

Summary: When Lance decides to take a walk in a rainy evening through the forest, he didn't expect to find an old friend he hadn't seen in so long.

~

Lance, a warlock, finds a familiar boy who has being poisoned and decides to save him, then he founds out he was a werewolf being chased by hunters.

Pairing(s): Keith x Lance

Words: 1107

Chapters: 1/?

Genre: Angst

Read in ao3

[kirishwima]

short klance fic from an old old convo with @cmajalis where Lance can't sleep :-)

“You’re here again.”

Lance turned, bleary eyes looking up to the person standing besides him, face hidden in the shadows of the observation deck.

They took a step forward, features quickly illuminated by starlight, a pair of dark eyes looking down to Lance before flopping down besides him.

“I mean, you are too” Lance teased Keith, gently shoving at his shoulder.

Keith sighed, turning to face Lance, a question gleaming in his eyes.

“I just finished training.”

“And I was just up for some late night stargazing.”

They held each others gaze for a moment, a silent competition, willing each other to break first.

In the end Keith sighed, breaking contact as he turned to face the glass panel ahead of them, planets lazily swirling in their orbit, casting lights and shadows into the quiet room.

“Does anyone ever sleep in this Castle?”

Lance laughed.

“Let’s see-Hunk stress bakes until he falls asleep in the kitchen, Allura stays up late going over plans with Shiro and Coran-Not that Shiro ever sleeps anyway, Pidge is well, Pidge, and you…” he trailed off, looking to Keith for confirmation.

“I sleep. Not much, but” Keith shrugged, “It’s enough I guess.”

Lance nodded slowly, calculating Keith’s somber expression.

“And I don’t sleep because..everything feels too quiet” Lance silently admitted.

He felt Keith shift besides him, but made no attempt to look to him, preferring instead to focus on the fiddling of his own fingers drumming restlessly over his thigh.

“I shared a room with my older brother all the way until he left for college, and then I’d usually end up babysitting my sister’s kids so they’d stay in my room, then at the Garrison we shared the room with Hunk.”

Lance shook his head, a bitter smile on his lips.

“There’s so many people on this ship, but at night it gets so quiet. The first night here was the first time I could actually hear my own breath while I slept.”

A pale hand came to rest atop his over his legs, finding the gaps between his fingers and slipping into place.

"Does it scare you?" Keith's eyes came into view, his body leaning across Lance, "does the quiet scare you?"

Lance shook his head.

"It doesn't. It just..."

He looked down to their intertwined hands, feeling his grip shake.

"It makes me feel so alone" he croaked out, the words mere whispers, yet so loud in the still around them.

"You're not alone."

Lance smiled but said nothing.

Wasn't he?

Shiro's expression when he'd yelled at him still lingered in his mind, intergrained with Pidge's apathetic tone when she'd adressed him, Hunk's gentle but absent-minded smiles, Allura's infatuation with Lotor.

Wasn't he alone? Wasn't he unecessary?

"You're not alone" Keith reaffirmed him, grip tightening, fingers digging into Lance's palm.

"You don't even live in this Castle anymore. You're not-you're not even here right now."

Keith cocked his head, mouth dropping into a pout.

"You're not here" Lance breathed out, his vision turning blurry, Keith's features fading as he let his eyes fall shut.

The next moment his eyes open, a muffled gasp escaping him.

He sat up on his bed, fingers clenching and unclenching into the bedsheets until the colour drained from his knuckles.

A sigh befell him, his chin meeting the top

of his knees as he huddled into himself, hearing his breaths quiet to a lonely lull.

His heartbeat quieted down, his breaths evened out, the buzzing in his ears died down into a soft thrumming.

And once again, he drowned in the silence of an empty room.

[scorpiokeith-blog]

Isolation

[ Author’s Note: first fic I’ve put out on tumblr! Please read the second part here, and the third part that’s coming out soon.]

Keith knew Lance didn’t always realize it, but Lance was popular. While Keith’s standard of ‘being popular’ was lower than most, he was right - the charismatic, sweet boy always seemed to have someone talking to him. 

Keith noticed this at the Garrison. He pulled out on earbud when he heard an exclamation, followed by loud laughter from multiple people. Investigating the sound, Keith turned a corner and saw Lance walking with at least four other people. He seemed to be the center of attention, as usual. Their eyes were all on Lance, waiting for his next words.

Keith frustratingly popped his earbud back in, blocking out the muffled conversation he could still hear. He chalked it up to avoiding a fight with the kid who always competed with him, but he knew deep down he was jealous. Jealous that he couldn’t seem so friendly. Jealous that he couldn’t talk to people easily. Jealous that people didn’t want to listen, even if he could be like Lance.

Lance continued to seem popular and more loved in Keith’s eyes. Hunk and Pidge were always joking around with Lance, telling stories, or sitting together. Keith got more and more jealous; no one noticed him avoiding them.

Well, no one but Lance.

“It’s nice that you’re talking about Keith for the billionth time, Lance.” Hunk elbowed Lance, causing an annoyed sigh. He didn’t know if he had the courage to push that he was dead serious. Lance was getting concerned for Keith - he wasn’t sure exactly what was wrong, but as someone who’s been in bad places, he could see the signs. He decided he should insist.

“Hunk, I’m serious. I’m... worried about how Keith isn’t ever around us unless he has to be.” Lance exhaled in relief as he saw Hunk’s face slip into a more understanding and worried expression. “He even avoids eating meals with us as much as he can. Sure, we all talk on missions, but... can you think of the last time we had a non-mission related conversation with him?” He stopped himself from rambling as he looked at Hunk for a response.

“...I know what you’re talking about, now that you bring it up.” Hunk crossed his arms. “We should talk to him, see if he’s okay, right? Or at least encourage him to come out of his room more. But maybe he’s just like that - I mean, he’s kind of a loner.”

Lance’s gut knew that it wasn’t just Keith’s personality. Even if being ‘brooding’ or a ‘loner’ was the way he was, Keith was isolating himself. Lance knew too well what that felt like, and how no one immediately noticed. It takes strength, effort, and often a motivational friend to get out of isolation.

“I think I’m gonna go talk to him.” He confirmed to Hunk. 

[san-bika]

The Prince and the Bride

A Revolutionary Girl Utena Voltron AU

Rating: G

Pairings: Keith/Lance... smidge of Lance/Lotor

Length: 1,293 words

Tags: Angst, Pining, Power Dynamics

Notes: A scene I could imagine happening in Utena

Keith - Utena; Lance - Anthy; Lotor - Akio

Keith stumbled into a dark room, forcing himself not to slam the door behind him. He pulled air deep into his lungs, trying to smother the spark that wanted to lash out and burn.

He’d spent the day annoyed with the teachers needling him about his sad past, grimly interested by the tragedy of his parents’ death.

Then he was badgered by the tittering girls who flocked around him admiring his strange red jacket and gloves, pulling at his arms and shoulders, fluttering their eyes and leaning on him.

“Keith, do you know where the bathroom is? I can show you, I don’t mind.”

“Keith if you get detention because of your uniform, I’ll wait outside the school for you!.”

“Have you ever heard the song Afternoon Delight? We should listen to it together, it’s a classic, tee hee...”

As innocent or brazen as the girls were, he already knew that he’d have trouble with the guys in the school. They had started out fine, if a little awkward with all the attention he had been showered with.

But then he had schooled them at basketball, having years of practice at boys’ and girls’ clubs and foster care, and then he had ripped down a letter that had made that girl Florona burst into tears and run off.

That was probably related to his sudden and overwhelming popularity with the female students if he thought about it.

But by the end of his first day to say Keith was persona non grata among the boys at Ohtori was to put it mildly.

But it was fine, he’s used to that kind of crap.

He could handle being disliked. He was comfortable with it.

I didn’t make it into Ohtori because of friends, he thought, spinning the rose signet ring on his hand.

He’d made it to find the person who’d given him the greatest gift almost a decade ago; that special person who’d given him a ring, kissed away his tears, and told him to never lose his nobility.

He’d find that person, or Prince if his childish daydreams could possibly be right, and he’d thank them for teaching him to live with his whole heart and no regrets lingering behind.

I’m here now, at Ohtori. I followed your clues… now when are you going to find me?

The sound of delicate chords shook him from his reverie and Keith realized that he wasn’t alone, tensing. Waiting a minute and then two it became clear that the musician didn’t know he was there.

He peered around the corner to see a person he didn’t recognize practicing in the dim light of an overhead window.

Long dark fingers moved delicately, like magic, against the stark black and white keys.

Keith looked up to see a slim young man in the simple Ohtori boys uniform and round glasses, eyes focused on the papers in front of him. He hadn’t noticed him during the day but as his eyes lifted to the top of the next page, he’d wondered how that was with his delicate features and strange blue eyes.

The student had a somber expression but his eyes crinkled, like he was about to laugh or cry.

He shifted to stay hidden as the student reached the end of his piece and pulled his glasses off his face to clean them. He showed no sign of any pleasure or disappointment with his performance. His face was smooth and empty of emotion, except for his cold blue eyes.

Keith was not musical but to him the performance had been flawless.

Just as he was steeling himself to turn the corner and talk to this strange boy, another voice rose up behind him and he turned to see who it was. He had to stifle his gasp with his own hand.

A handsome, broad-shouldered man walked up behind the pianist, dressed like a prince. Everything about him looked glamorous from his violet silk shirt to his silvery hair, bound in a curling ponytail. His skin was dark like the other boy’s and he had blue eyes but other than that there was little resemblance.

Could it be him?

His fingers curled around the student’s neck and hair, toying and petting it. He kept his smiling eyes fixed on the keys as he leaned heavily over.

The whole scene looked like it had been taken from a book of fairy tales, down to the beams of light illuminating the dark theater and the motes of dust drifting around and the memory of the somber piano notes still in his head.

At the same time Keith was overcome with the familiar aroma of his letters, a smell he hadn’t told anyone about. He turned around, stunned, looking for the Prince with the scent of roses.

But there was no one behind him.

Is this real? Or is it a dream?

“My dear, sweet Lance, a perfect performance as always. Big brother is so proud of you.”

Brother?

Keith focused on the dashing man again, his voice was bold and accented, naturally elegant.

Was it familiar or was he caught up in the scene unfolding before him?

But when he looked at the student called Lance, he noticed that despite a faint blush, he hadn’t moved an inch, gazing only at his lap. The look in his eyes was indecipherable.

Was he happy or sad? He didn’t seem uncomfortable. Could he be enjoying the attention?

Much, much later Keith would wonder why he hadn’t recognized the dominant posture or the predatory attitude.

Why the student allowed this person to run his hands all over him...

Why the man seemed comfortable handling his brother like a doll...

But he shone so brightly it was hard to notice anything except his perfection and that familiar, comforting scent. 

The mysterious man draped himself further on Lance’s back and a hand dropped down to his lap to pull the glasses and cloth away. He finally rested his graceful fingers over Lance’s eyes, who sat straight as a board, though trembling. His long hair was falling over Lance’s shoulder.

Keith wondered how it would feel in his hands, his heart pounding wildly.

“But I know you can do better. I want to hear more emotion. Won’t you do as brother asks, precious Lance?” He rested his cheek on the chestnut brown hair, with a rakish smile.

Keith couldn’t tear his eyes away from the man’s princely demeanor or Lance’s red cheeks.

I shouldn’t be here, Keith thought to himself but he didn’t move away.

Lance raised his hands to the keys, despite being unable to see, and oriented himself by lightly touching a few, the tones falsely loud in the quiet room.

And then he moved his hands and the same song he’d been playing minutes ago pieced itself together better than before, despite its perfection.

The quiet notes were delicate and soft and the stronger notes rang forcefully in the silence. Where the song had been slow it was plaintive, and where the notes were faster, Lance rushed along frenetically, moving his hands swifter than Keith thought possible.

The music swelled to a crescendo, and together with the infuriating scent, overwhelmed him.

He dashed out of the side door, not caring that they must have heard him or that the music had come to a sudden stop.

Keith had to find out more about the mysterious man, the one who looked and smelled like the Prince of his dreams.

It can’t be a coincidence.

Keith kept running, desperately trying to calm himself.

I’ll have to ask Katie, she knows everyone....  

He forced himself to remember the man’s every detail  as he ran to the dormitories.

The Prince who rescued me… could it be you?

And Keith began to forget the other person in the scene -  oddly blank expression and troubled blue eyes and even the name, Lance, pushed to the back of his memory.

Note: This is NOT a scene from the Revolutionary Girl Utena movies or manga or anime. I could just picture Akio doing this to Anthy and then my brain substituted Voltron.

Also this is the piece that Lance plays.

[theoreticalmindgames]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Lance get's back and Keith isn't so sure about some things......

______

Hello Friends! The fic  has been extended because guess what ! new conflicts have come about ! wowie fun times welp enjoy <3

Also: Chapter 9 will be up sometime next week because I'm away for the weekend and won't have time to write

[the-kittens-of-vol-tron]

Chapter 32!

Hey everyone, the last chapter too my langst/klangst fic is posted!!!!!

Chapter 32!

[juniperallura]

What about post-battle 'i thought I lost you kiss'? That good shiat

Keith was always risking it all.

Lance had grown to love that about him, in card games and drunken escapades.

In battle? He fucking hated it. 

Sure, when they were teenagers, it was fine. Almost fun. They’d come out of battle bursting with adrenaline, having taken the fate of the universe into their own hands and cheated Death all in one go. 

But now there was more on the line than just their lives, as unthinkable as that had been only five years ago. Now they were laying awake at night, building castles in the sky and filling them with scary things like roadtrips and destination weddings and kids, even. 

Lance had said, once, “If we make it out of this alive, I’m going to kiss you.”

Now he said, “When we make it out of this alive, I’m going to marry you.”

Those were Lance’s cards, ones he had starting holding very close to his chest. But Keith always had to put everything, their future, on the table. And it made Lance really. Fucking. Angry.

Those thoughts were ricocheting around his head as he stormed into Keith’s Lion port. He called out, his voice catching in the rawness of his throat. Keith popped out just in time for Lance to barrel into him, pushing hard against Keith’s chest plate. 

“What the hell was that?”

Keith, at least, wasn’t trying to play innocent. His brows knit, dark eyes flashing. “I did what I had to. I won.”

Lance threw his hands up. “Well congratulations, Keith! All hail Keith Kogane, the paladin of Voltron! I’m so glad that you were there to save us all from the evil monster.”

“Lance-”

“When are you going to get past this, Keith? We’re a team,” Lance hissed, hot anger still pulsing in his veins. “You only think of yourself, like you don’t even care about the rest of us. What would have happened to you if the rest of us didn’t take out those fighter jets? Did you even think of that? How would we have formed Voltron, without you? Who- who would go to Plaxarus with me, huh? Or, the solar plains, on Vortna-” Lance’s voice cracked. Suddenly his anger was gone and everything stung.

Keith’s breath hitched, his defensive posture melting away. “Lance, I’m so sorry-” It was amazing how quickly the post-battle adrenaline faded these days. He clasped Lance’s hand, tightly. “I- I didn’t mean to put the team at risk.”

Their eyes met. The team. Lance grabbed him by the collar, closing his eyes and pulling. Keith’s lips tasted like salt. Lance buried his hand in Keith’s hair, desperate to make Keith feel all the wild fear and relief and love he felt. He felt Keith tense, and then in a long exhale of breath he fell into their kiss, apologetic. 

They stumbled backward, breathless, until Keith’s back hit the wall. Lance was determined to memorize everything about that moment. The feeling of Keith’s hands anchoring themselves around the back of his neck. Stubble grazing his chin. Something wet rolling down his cheek. 

It was awhile before Lance could tear his lips from Keith’s. He leaned down to kiss Keith’s jaw, his neck, nuzzling against his shoulder. His voice was muffled, “Sometimes I hate you.”

Keith’s chuckle vibrated against his chest. He reached down to pull Lance’s chin up, drawing him into another slow kiss. He murmured, “Do you really want to say something like that right now? I almost died today, y’know-”

Lance blinked, staring incredulously into Keith’s eyes, only a few inches away. The cry reverberated in the cavernous room, carrying its echo through the Castle in what would be striking difference to the days of fuming silence to come- 

“Keith- !”

[bleusarcellewrites]

Sign of the Times

Aaaaaand the next one. 

Just...meh, take it, it was more of a challenge with @waffle-walks than anything. At angst, and shit. AT LEAST I DIDN’T KILLED ANYONE HERE. NOT LIKE SOMEONE.

So, based on the Hanahaki AU, thingy. Yeah! No one dies, so chill. 

Anyways, uh, mentions of blood? yah. 

Disclaimer: Voltron doesn’t belong to me. 

“I’m sorry, Lance.”

Lance shakes his head stubbornly, his mouth twitching into a ghost smile as he weakly raises his hand and wipes Keith’s tears away from his pale cheek.

“I’m sorry too, Keith.”

It’s Keith’s turn to shake his head, a few sniffles escaping his mouth as he bows his head in defeat.

“No, you don’t – you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m so sorry Lance, I’m so damn sorry I couldn’t love you the way you needed me to.”

Lance hums quietly, his fingers gently rubbing Keith’s hand, only taking a sharp breath when he feel the plain cold silver ring on his index finger.

Keith’s follows his gaze and his lip quivers with emotion.

“I’m so sorry, Lance.”

“You fell in love, Keith.” Lance mumbles, hesitating only a second before rubbing the ring’s surface carefully, almost fondly, “Just like I fell for you. It was a choice we both made, I have no regrets.”

“I never meant for this to happen.” Keith whispers, wincing when Lance coughs, trying to be subtle but failing miserably. Keith sighs before taking the wet cloth from the table to wipe the thin line of blood on Lance’s mouth, “You’re my best friend and you were – are dying, because of me. How can I not regret my decisions?”

“Because I won’t let you.” Lance answers slowly, his free hand over his chest as a second wave of coughs surrounds him, small bloody petals falling to the small bucket in front of him, “I- I couldn’t let you miss your chance at love. He loves you with all his heart, Keith.”

“So do you.” Keith sobs, pushing his forehead against their intertwined hands, “So do you, Lance. God, I can’t lose you, but I am either way and I’m so damn sorry.”

“You know I could die happy with this feeling.” Lance confesses quietly, staring sadly at the crying black haired man in front of him, “You know that, but I won't.”

“Because I won’t let you.” Keith finishes, voice choked up and tired, taking a deep breath before raising his head, “This is the best decision.”

Lance nods, resigned and defeated. “I’m going to miss you, Keith. My mind won't remember but my heart always will.”

“Damn it, Lance.” Keith curses, tears falling from his eyes easily as he pushes himself even further into the brunet’s space, “We never learn, do we?”

“Nah.” Lance jokes, bumping his forehead against Keith’s shoulder playfully, “Come on, stop your crying. It’s the sign of the times, mullet.”

Keith chuckles wetly, shaking his head in disbelief before he raises his head. “We will meet again somewhere, I promise.”

Lance’s own eyes get misty at the words and he nods shakily, not even bothering to wipe away his tears. “Somewhere far away from here.”

The door of the room opens, the Doctor enters calmly, announces it’s time and suddenly their hands feel cold, empty and fragile as they push Lance’s gurney away.

Keith can only watch as Lance looks back at him helplessly. He tries to memorize the emotion in their blue color: the recognition, the love, the pain, every single emotion between them, holding onto them for dear life.

Keith limits himself to wave, smiling encouragingly, sending back every emotion towards Lance as best as he can with his own eyes, praying, or maybe hoping, that some of that stays with the brunet even after the surgery.

There’s a sudden pressure on his hand and Keith doesn’t need to look up to know it his husband’s.

His hand still feels cold.