#langstronexchange2k19

[doodlelight]

Capture [Klance]

Read from Right to Left

Here's my contribution to @langstron !!! My giftee is @viraseii 💕💕 I hope I did this justice!! 😩😭❤️💙

[angstalottle]

I Promised

Ah sorry @bradcel for how long this took but my part of the @langstron exchange is done.

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One of Lance’s favourite parts of being a paladin is actually getting to go out and meet people.

With every new planet brings new cultures and new histories to learn about.

Amongst the others he’s really the only one that gets so involved in their culture on each and every planet. They usually just come for whatever it is they need then leave without learning anything.

Then again, most of them had never really been born outside of the culture they grew up in.

They had never experienced having to adapt to a new country with new rules that if you don’t learn you could end up dead.

In Cuba Lance never had to be afraid of getting a police officer.

He never had to be aware of being profiled based on the colour of his skin or the language he spoke.

The others never had to learn to adapt to survive...

Well accept for Hunk.

Lance can actually remember the first day they met and the day he fell in love with his best friend.

He had just been shoved into a locker and told to go back to Mexico when his knight in shining armour saved him.

And unlike the times the teachers pulled him out he never told him to speak English or just ignore them.

Instead he told him something that changed his life forever.

“These are people who believe they are the normal one. That because they see their faces on TV, in movies and running the country it means they matter more. But they don’t. They just know they lack a culture as unique and old as yours and mine so they try to hurt us. And it may not be fair but we gotta make sure they don’t get to.”

Looking back at that moment Lance remembers him standing tall and brave, like he could carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

In reality he was crying and had dirt on his nose from where a project blew up in his face earlier that day.

It had been years since then and Hunk was still as brave and incredible to Lance as he had been then.

That’s why for the mission he had been so excited when the two of them were sent to a planet's archeological site.

Planet Corina was mostly large cities filled with loud and rambunctious people that looked to celebrate whenever possible.

They were currently holding a celebration to honour the paladins of Voltron enjoying their meal last night and declared it a holiday for all chefs.

It was sweet up until one of their large fireworks uncovered an ancient cave system filled with statues dedicated to the planets old gods.

A team had quickly been put together and due to the instability of the cave systems Hunk and Lance were sent along to keep the archaeologists safe.

That had been three hours ago.

Three hours of mindlessly chatting to Hunk as they walked through a labyrinth of tunnels and pointed out interesting markings.

Three hours of Lance feeling his heart melt with every smile and gentle touch he got from the yellow paladin.

Three hours since they had enough signal to get through to their friends on the coms.

“I bet there used to be a river or something down here that cut through the stone millenia ago” Hunk grinned as he ran a hand along the smooth wall.

The group was a fair bit behind them taking their time as they went.

Not that Lance minded. He likes spending time with Hunk.

“Gotta admit it would be impressive if all this was man made.... or Alien made I mean. This place must be under the entire city.” Lance replied as he came to a stop and picked up an arrow shaped rock.

“Huh wonder where this came fro-“

He never got to finish that though as that was the moment the ceiling and floor collapsed.

Hunk woke up slowly to a pounding headache.

It was dark and the floor was cold and hard so naturally he assumed he has fallen out of bed and that ringing in his ears was actually the castle alarm calling him to battle.

However as he felt around and found no sign of his bed nor his pjs things started coming back to him.

He sat up so quick that he whacked his head against the low ceiling that surely would have resulted in a concussion if it weren’t for his helmet.

Groaning and feeling along his armour he came to the built in light and flicked it on feeling terror rise in his throat as he could see.

It was like he was in a coffin made on stone.

It was almost sealed save for a few arm sized holes above him that let a supply of fresh air blow through which considering the long crack along his helmet it was a good thing.

Even if they did have a signal it wasn’t likely his coms would still work.

“Paladins?”

A voice pulled Hunks attention away from his own rapid breathing.

One of the arkeologists was staring through one of the holes at him.

“H-here” Hunk croaked even if it was obvious.

They visibly relaxed upon seeing him “the tunnels have collapsed but fear not as were are getting help for the two of you.”

Two of you?

Hunk couldn’t quite figure out who else they could mean when the realisation hit him with more fear than he had ever felt in his entire life.

Lance.

“The… the other Paladin.” Hunk took a moment to cough clearing the dust from his lungs. “W-where is he?”

Their eyes darted around Hunk before shaking their head “I… I do not know. I cannot stay I am sorry but I fear he is buried.”

They ran off before Hunk could really process the information.

Lance… his Lance was… he could be.

The bile rose in his throat and it took everything he could not to throw up at the thought.

Poor little Lance so skinny and fragile buried under all this rock.

What if he was scared?

Of God, what if he was crying for his help and Hunk was too busy feeling sorry for himself to hear him.

Logically Hunk knew it was a miracle that the rocks had fallen in such a way around him leaving him unharmed and that even one small movement could send it all tumbling down but that didn’t stop him frantically hammering his fists against the rock trying to break out to his Lance.

When dust began to pour into his face Hunk stopped to catch his breath.

That’s when he heard it.

Soft gasps coming from his left.

They were barely audible but by god they were there.

L-Lance?” Hunk called out not really expecting a reply but desperately hoping for one.

“...unknown” it was little more than a whisper but it was something.

It was also broken and followed by a wet wheezing cough but at this point Hunk was willing to take what he could get.

“Lance are you hurt? Are you ok?” Hunk asked frantically as he half turned to face the source of the noise.

There were a few moments of silence before Lance finally answered and it really wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“... my legs… I can’t… oh god I can’t feel my legs.”

Hunk swallowed the lump in his throat.

Now wasn’t the time to panic. He had to keep it together for Lance.

“Ok buddy it’s gonna be ok. Helps on its way and we’ll get you in a pod real soon.”

“Are you ok?” Lance asked while Hunk pulled a few rocks away from the hole he figured was closest to Lance.

He wanted to laugh because of course while buried under a mountain of rocks he would worry about him.

That’s just so… so Lance.

It almost brought a smile to his face.

Almost.

“I’m fine buddy. Just a few bruises but nothing a quick session in the pod can’t fix.”

Lance hummed in response but didn’t say anything.

Hunk hoped it was because he couldn’t think of a reply and not that he was unable to say anything.

A quiet Lance was never a good one.

He didn’t really have much room to put the rubble he moved so he ended up pushing it down by his legs.

It made it harder to move but it was all worth it when he finally caught sight of the familiar blue armour.

Then the blood began to drip down.

Lance was on a ledge about half a foot above him with his hand so agonisingly close to the edge that if Hunks arm was just a little bit longer he could hold his hand.

The blood was dripping sluggishly but at an alarming volume down onto Hunk. The scent filled his nose and made him gag on the air.

Now that he could see him Hunk could see the real reason why Lance couldn’t feel his legs.

Mainly because they weren’t there.

By Lances knees there was nothing but a wall of rock that had markings from the top floor etched into them and Hunk realised with growing horror that it must have fallen and broken Lance’s legs off.

He prayed to whoever was listening that Lance wasn’t awake for that.

Right now Hunk couldn’t think about the fact that this wouldn’t be a quick fix.

That a couple days in a pod wouldn’t make Lance whole again.

When they got out of there Lance was in for a long hard struggle to even walk.

If… if they got out.

Right now he had to focus on keeping Lance awake because he was currently useless to stop the blood loss.

“H-hey Lance i… do you remember when you first tried my cooking?”

Lance groaned but nodded yes “I… I asked you to marry me because it was… so.. good.” He coughed growing quieter.

“Yeah and do you remember what I said?”

This time Lance didn’t reply.

“I said that if you ever asked again I would say yes in a heart beat. B-because I love you Lance. God I love you so much and… I can’t lose you.”

He was crying now.

Full body sobbing as he desperately tried to reach for him but failed.

He was so close….

But so far.

At some point Hunk hyperventilated and passed out.

It wasn’t until he fell out of the pods did he actually realise the full extent of his own injuries.

A concussion and two cracked ribs were bad but nothing compared to Lance.

His entire legs had been shattered and what had remained needed to be removed.

One of his lungs collapsed and punctured due to five broken ribs.

His eye socket was cracked and a concussion meant that when he finally was ready to come out he didn’t really remember what happened.

He did remember one thing though.

It was a fact he held onto throughout his entire recovery and then finally when he could walk again he kneeled before Hunk and asked one very important question.

“Will you marry me?”

And as promised Hunk said “yes.”

[art-lokiitama]

Pinch hit for @langsty-mc-langstface for the @langstron Gift Exchange !!

I saw that you enjoyed some Hance! So have some post-battle comfort with a twinge of PTSD! 

I hope you like it! :D

[angstyzebra]

Overworked

Lance has been overworking himself as a result of his insecurities and Shiro is there to help him.

This is my gift for @veltron for the @langstron gift exchange! I hope you enjoy!! (Read it below or on AO3 here!)

The team was having a meeting about their next mission. Allura was talking about which planet they would be travelling to and which creatures to avoid there. Lance knew this was important and that he needed to pay attention, but his mind kept on wandering off without him even realizing it.

Lance knew he was the weak link, and couldn’t stop thinking about it, especially after what happened during the mission a week prior. He messed up and it could have killed someone. Thankfully, they got the information they needed and everyone got out with no more than a few scrapes and bruises. The angry scolding from Keith and Allura hurt, but the disappointed look he saw on Shiro’s face was what really got to him.

Shiro and Lance had been together for a while now, and their relationship was going very well. But the uncomfortable tension between them since that mission was upsetting. They hadn’t talked much since then, but that also could have been due to their busy schedule as paladins.

Maybe Lance was overthinking all of this. Maybe the lack of sleep was getting to him. Or maybe it was the fact that he was starting to feel under the weather.

He couldn’t sleep well that night after the mission, and instead decided to get some training in. “Some training” ended up being five hours, almost to the point of passing out on the training room floor. Lance thought he would sleep better the next night from the exhaustion of all of that training. However, as always, the universe was out to get him and he ended up training the next night as well. And the next. And the one after that.

Basically, he had only gotten about two hours of sleep each night for the past week, which probably explained why he was so tired during the day. Lance knew this was bad for his body, but he was the weak link. He needed the extra training so he could be useful to the team. Pidge, Hunk, and Coran were incredibly smart, Allura and Shiro had amazing leadership and planning skills, and Keith was a talented fighter. Lance didn’t have any special skills like the rest of them, he was only there to pilot Blue.

“Lance!”

His head shot up and realized everyone was staring at him.

Allura approached him with a furious look, and stopped mere inches in front of him. “Have you been listening to any of this? Do you even care about being a paladin?”

Lance’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “Of course I care.”

Keith then stepped forward next to Allura. “Then why did you look like you were about to fall asleep? Are we boring you?”

“No, I’m just tired.” Lance mumbled. He was already feeling irritable, and a second scolding from Allura and Keith in the same week was definitely not helping his mood.

Before anyone could say another word, Shiro stepped in front of Lance and took control of the situation. “That’s enough. We’re all worn out from these constant missions, so why don’t we take the rest of today to get some rest?”

Allura looked as if she was going to argue, but instead sighed and left the room without another word. The other began filing out afterward, slow and sluggish in their movements. Shiro was right, they all needed a break.

Lance silently made his way to the training room, despite what Shiro said about all of them taking the day to rest. He didn’t deserve to rest, he needed to be a better paladin.

Lance hadn’t even gotten through halfway through the first practice level before he heard someone call out “end training sequence!” He turned to the door and saw Shiro walking towards him with a concerned expression.

“What the hell, Shiro? Why’d you stop it?” Lance bit out. He regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth, feeling guilty at seeing the surprised and hurt look on Shiro’s face.

“Lance, we seriously need to talk.”

Lance froze, afraid of what was going to come next. Was Shiro going to break up with him? Kick him off the team? He felt himself fall forward to the ground, and then everything went black.

---

Lance woke up feeling refreshed and in a much better mood. He yawned as he sat up, stretching his arms over his head.

“Hey there, sleepy head.” Lance turned and saw Shiro sitting beside his bed with a teasing smirk, holding a tablet in his hands. He must have been looking over information for the next mission.

“Hey, what are you-” It was then that everything came back to him. Lance groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Shiro, I’m really sorry. I was being such an ass earlier and-”

“Lance.” Shiro interrupted. “It’s okay, really. I understand what was going on with you now.”

“You do?”

Shiro turned the tablet for Lance to see. It was displaying his training log for the past week. “You’ve been working so hard, Lance. This shows how much you’ve improved and I am so proud of you for it.”

“Really?” Lance asked, embarrassed from the praise.

“Of course. But you overworked yourself to the point of collapsing. You trained so long every night, and it’s obvious now how little sleep you’ve been getting.”

Lance looked back down to his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to be a better paladin, to catch up to all of you.”

Shiro frowned at that. “Lance, what are you talking about? Why do you think you need to catch up?”

“Because all of you are obviously better than me. You all have these unique, helpful skills you can contribute and I… I have nothing.”

Shiro moved to sit on the bed next to Lance and wrapped him in a tight hug, stroking his hair and peppering kisses to the top of his head. “No, baby, you are so important to this team. I don’t know where you got the idea that you aren’t helpful, but it’s not true. You are so talented with your sniping, it’s because of you that we’ve gotten out of some dangerous situations.”

Lance shook his head. “But I really messed up during the last mission. It was my fault that someone could have been hurt.”

“Lance, everybody makes mistakes. Keith and Allura were too harsh on you and I talked to them about it already. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it too, but we’ve been so busy. I’m sorry, Lance, I really should have gone to you sooner.”

Lance sighed. “It’s okay. Thank you, Kashi.”

Shiro smiled, a fond look in his eyes at the nickname.”Now, how about you and I spend the rest of the day relaxing together?”

Lance nodded. “That would be nice.”

“On one condition, that is. You have to actually get a reasonable amount of sleep tonight. No training.”

Lance hummed in thought and smirked. “I don’t know… I think the only way I’d be able to do that is if I slept next to someone.”

Shiro scoffed, pushed Lance back onto the bed and pressed kisses to his neck. “I think that can be arranged.”

[scientiaclan]

For @khellamendra for the @langstron exchange!

[rueitae]

Within a Wisp of Your Life

This is a gift for @rosieclark, my contribution to the @langstron gift exchange 2019. (I hope you like it.)

Read on Ao3

~~~~~

The ground hits Lance hard, and he cries out in pain as the uneven stone floor cuts into the exposed skin on his face. His helmet lay somewhere far away, long since lost somewhere on the battlefield.

He rolls, shoulder over shoulder until finally coming to rest on his stomach, bracing his forearms against the floor. Lance breathes hard, exhausted. The dirt stirred up by his fall makes him cough.. It springs his, likely, broken ribs to cut his innards like a sharp knife. Bruises plague him all over under his armor and he wants nothing more than to lie down and rest and ease his scrambled mind. But he cannot, not yet. Not when his enemy seeks to take everything he loves.

Slowly, he places one palm on smooth stone and begins to lift himself. A shooting pain hits his forehead as he does, and if he hadn’t been familiar with these awful headaches he’d have assumed his assailant struck him again. But death blow or magic it was not - he knew what those felt like too. 

Lance forces himself to his knees. His arms wobble, struggling under his own weight, and he falters, leaning to his side. His shoulder makes contact into more stone - but even with his body and mind in shambles he can tell he’s not lying on the floor..

With a gasp, Lance realizes he’s on the other side of this ancient temple. He sits at the feet of and leans against the stone altar; the very one he’s trying to avoid. Getting out of here is imperative; he hasn’t given Pidge nearly enough time to complete her spell. Fists clenched, his resolve returns to him.

Wait. Blue! Where is his sword?

“Looking for this, brave knight?”

Ventos; the greatest of the dark mages, scourge of the Outlands, destroyer of realities…

And Pidge’s great-great-great-really great grandfather.

The man (Beast? Immortal? It was difficult to know what was truth or fiction with a living legend.) floats slowly towards him, pinning him with a predatory gaze.  He shrouds himself in a tailored dark robes with only his scarred face to show; the picture of villainy itself. 

Hovering above his outstretched and thin gloved hands - Blue, one of only five weapons capable of inflicting damage against the ancient magic Ventos wields. Lance’s sword. 

A pale-blue glow surround Blue, flickering inconsistently. Lance can feel it in his soul, Blue is just as exhausted as he. 

“A marvelous weapon,” Ventos remarks casually. Lance’s heart sinks, he sounds as if he’s not wasted breath at all on their battle. 

With a twist of his wrist the sword rotates in mid-air. “Objectively, of course,” Ventos says. “The Voltron swords are persistent, if anything. But I have no more use for interruptions.”

A simple flick of the wrist and Blue speeds downwards, embedding into the floor with such force that it shakes the ground. All that remains is the very tip of the hilt, hardly enough to grip and attempt to dislodge it. 

Lance wraps an arm around his stomach while using the other to brace against the floor as he lurches forward, his last meal now on the floor before him. A hole throbs painfully in his heart where Blue’s presence once gave him power and warmth. It’s been so long; he can’t remember life without the comforting pulses of energy from his sword. 

“Ohhh, poor knight,” Ventos says, falsely sympathetic. The air grows cold as he approaches. “You have fought valiantly, but your defeat was inevitable.”

Lance rolls back. His shoulder hits the altar and he swallows deeply, eyes closed as if to ignore the taste of his own vomit, gathering what is left of his strength. He may be down a magic sword, but for this battle, he still has a weapon at his disposal. 

“What good is this world for you anyway?” Lance snaps, glaring as if the action alone would cause Ventos to fall over dead. “Surely with being immortal and powerful you have everything you could ever want?”

Ventos chuckles darkly. “Mortals are short sighted.”

Lance gasps as wispy apparitions fill the immediate area. They mill about in a ghostly marketplace, trading wares as children play with a ball in the street.

“Look at them going about their meaningless lives, the same dull routine day after day; many of them struggling to survive.” Several of the illusions, mostly those between market stalls, turn a dark purple. “And a good many others ignore their plight.” More figures in fancier dress turn the same dark purple as they walk the streets. Lance yelps as one walks through him. 

“Their hearts are hard, their quintessence poisoning the earth; they do not deserve this world.” He sighs, falsely sad. “But I need more power, I must take unto myself the most pure quintessence from strong individuals. It falls to me to find them.”

Lance tchs. “How noble,” he says dryly. 

“Though you serve the right noble house, I can hardly expect a simple knight to understand the importance of what I do,” Ventos chides. 

Lance growls at the slight, blood simmering to a boil. “I serve the Holts; you’re just a distant blight in the family history.” A smirk tugs on his face, delighted to throw an insult back at this all powerful being. “They care more about the flowers in the garden than your ambitions.”

The dark mage merely smiles unpleasantly, sending a shiver down Lance’s spine. That… hadn’t gone exactly how he’d planned.

“And that flower would be you, Lance of Blue Beach? Tell me; where is my dear granddaughter?”

All sense of soreness and pain departs to the back of his mind and no longer is he tired. Lance springs from his spot and launches himself at the most powerful being in the world, with one a curled fist as a weapon. He swings, and when Ventos dodges Lance stumbles forward - though he hardly cares as he turns to face his foe, shoulders rigid in anger.

“You do not get to call her that!” Lance rages. 

Ventos laughs, one that echoes off the walls of the empty temple. “Such life!” The dark mage’s eyes stare him down hungrily, arm outstretched. “Your quintessence will be a feast!” 

Lance lunges out of the way of a lightning bolt, heart beating so fast it throbs in his ears. Achy limbs move on their own, muscles reacting more out of survival instinct than clear thought. His fingers stretch out, tips nearly on the hilt of his beloved sword…

A soft purple glow fills his vision and though he has no flying capability, he hovers agonizingly close to Blue. He strains, but his fingers - his body - refuses to move on its own. 

Dark magic. 

“You won’t get away with this!” Lance growls. His scowl of defiance dissolves when his body is tugged backwards; his heart pounding harder and harder as Blue falls out of reach. 

Ventos rounds him, his hand cupped upright as if he holds the invisible strings keeping Lance in the air. 

“I have seen you with my granddaughter,” he says as Lance is dragged helplessly further from Blue… and though he can’t see, it cannot be anywhere but the altar. “How precious the two of you are - walking in the gardens and holding hands as if you are sweet on each other.”

Lance’s heart freezes. How long has this madman been watching them? 

“It’s a pity a descendant of mine wields the Green of Voltron; but no matter. She will join with me like so many of our kin before her. Her body will make the perfect vessel for my magic once this one is destroyed.”

A sharp laugh escapes despite his captivity. “Pidge would never join you. She’s way more clever than you are.” And beautiful and funny and loving and loyal, also far kinder than he deserved after initially butting heads back when he’d been a squire in her father’s court. 

His vision blurs when his body is sharply turned. A cool, hard surface greets his back above the main floor and glowing purple cords of energy pin his arms to his sides and his body to the stone. The air feels thick like tar. 

The altar. 

Ventos waves a hand over him. An ethereal aura surrounds him, a thick white, with droplets of blue hovering around in it. 

Ventos breathes in deep, a contented smile upon his face, and ushers a handful of the aura and blue droplets into his nostrils. 

Lance’s eyes close, the feeling of sleep pouncing on him suddenly amidst the adrenaline of battle. That simple realization is enough to startle him to full awareness. This aura is his quintessence and Ventos is taking it. 

The man is taking his life force and he can’t do a thing about it. 

“Ahh,” Ventos sighs. “Delightful flavor, full of humor, love, and idealism. Oh?” he wonders, as if a connoisseur. “A hint insecurity? Wonderful.” Lance winces as Ventos takes another whiff as if he tastes fine wine. “There’s that bravery and selflessness.”

Lance squirms, testing the limits of his bonds. With each breath, more quintessence leaves his body as does his strength. Never has he felt so utterly exposed, he may as well be naked. He closes his eyes, trying to calm his nerves though he Ventos could take his life at any moment. 

“I digress, I have uses for you before I can take all of your quintessence. Tell me, where is my granddaughter?”

He still has a job to do.

“I’ll never tell you,” Lance spits.

The saliva lands lamely on his own cheek.

Ventos seems all too pleased at his pathetic effort. “Your loyalty is commendable,” says the scourge of the Outlands as he gently glides a gloved finger down Lance’s cheek, wiping the spit in a creepy sense of paternal care. “Though you are misguided by infatuation. No child of my line would choose a common-born knight over the power and knowledge of the universe.”

Lance knows he’s wrong. He knows Pidge will fight tooth and nail for her loved ones; it’s Ventos who has underestimated her.

But he has to keep the conversation going - he has to buy Pidge more time.

“Well,” he ponders aloud, breath labored with each word. He scrutinizes Ventros’s features and smiles, eager for his own punchline. “I suppose she does share some relation to you.”

Ventros smirks cruelly. “You continue to surprise me with your cooperation, child. Go on. If I like what I hear, perhaps I can spare your life to live at her side.”

The snarky smile dissolves from his face and a sick queasiness stirs in Lance’s stomach. The thought of being in Pidge’s service while she turns into a power-hungry tyrant would break his heart. 

Likely Ventos’s point.

All the more reason to prevent Pidge from becoming someone even she can’t recognize. 

So he makes his gulp of fear as shallow as possible, “It’s clearly the eyebrows. It took me a while to figure out because her’s are actually cute when she gets cocky.”

Ventros’s face turns dark, nose upturned and lips snarling. “Petulant child,” he says, fingers outstretched and—

Lance screams. Magical lightning courses through his body as every muscle clenches and burns. It lasts only a moment, but the pain lingers, every breath a stab against his lungs. The residual heat is itchy and continues to burn. 

A clammy hand grabs his throat, squeezing as Lance chokes desperately for breath. 

Ventros leans over and whispers harshly in his ear. “I will greatly enjoy sucking your life away as slowly and painfully as possible.”

“You’ll leave him alone!” 

It’s the voice Lance so longs to hear, but dreads at this moment. Pidge, Lady Holt of the Green Meadow - his liege of sword and heart. She stands atop the grand staircase of an entrance to the underground temple, her green tunic and armor just as beautiful as a ballroom gown. Her sword is sheathed, but she holds aloft a much more dangerous weapon.

Ventros turns from him, placing a viled hand over his missing heart. “Katie,” he purrs. “It is a pleasure to have you join me. I’ll give you the boy and power unlimited once you take up your sword for my cause.” 

Even from this distance, Lance can feel the rage building beneath her skin. “I would never,” she declares. “Return to the dark world from whence you came, or I will destroy you now forever!” 

She lights the candle before her. 

Ventros shivers. “My dear, sweet child, surely you would not do such a thing to family…”

“You are not my family,” Pidge growls. Slowly, she descends the staircase, letting wax drip down the side of the candle. “My family is my mother and father and my brother, who care and support me.” 

The dark being drops to the ground, weakened as the candle burns, his hand outstretched. “Ka--”

“My family,” Pidge continues as she steps off onto the ground floor, “are the Voltron Knights, and all my friends at the Castle.” 

She stands before Ventros, who coughs and wheezes, the candle halfway melted. In one quick, fluid motions she draws her sword, Green, and points it at him. “You may be blood, but you will never be family.”

Lance’s heart swells with pride. That’s the Pidge he loves. 

The triumph is short lived. Ventros cackles through his difficult breath. “Foolish children. If I cannot have what I want, neither can you!” 

It takes Lance too long to realize that he is the want in Pidge’s case. 

His quintessence reappears above his body, exposed for all to see. Like a punch to the gut Lance feels his life hanging by a thread, tired and slow of breath.

“Extinguish the candle if you want him to live,” Ventros threatens, his shaky form blurring between a man ready for a fancy party and a disembodied ball of black smoke. 

Moving his head to face Pidge is a difficult task and he wants nothing more than to close his eyes and sleep when he’s done it. He forces them to stay open, pleading with her, “Don’t, Pidge. Fin--” Deep breath. “Finish hi--” 

Ventros breathes in his quintessence. It thins him, like wrung out wet towel. 

“St-stop!” Pidge cries desperately. Lance hates that look in her eyes, the one without hope. She sets the candle down and backs away. “It’s all yours, just don’t kill him.”

In a heart-stopping moment, Ventros glides as if a ghost and extinguishes the candle. He slithers around Pidge, draping his hands over her shoulders. Lance shakes in rage, quelled only by how utterly spent he feels. 

Ventros leans in and whispers in her ear, “That’s a good girl. Now, the damnable sword.” 

Pidge is paralyzed, anger and frustration written on her face as Ventros slides his hand down her arm and twists her wrist, forcing her to drop Green. The sword clatters to the stone floor, the sound reverberating across the empty temple. 

Tears swell in his eyes. Even if he survives this, he’ll live in suffering, watching the love of his life carry out the will of an evil menace. He doesn’t want that for Pidge. Though she can harden her heart on the surface and make it believable for those who don’t know her, the pain will be unbearable for her. She’ll die on the inside well before she draws her last breath. 

“So much for the famed Knights of Voltron,” Ventros sneers. Lance winces in disgust as he gently strokes Pidge’s cheek. “Now, child, take part of my soul.” A black wisp toys at his fingertips and floats deceptively harmlessly towards Pidge’s nose. She tries to hold her breath, but a pinch of her arm from Ventros forces her to inhale, sucking the wisp into her. 

“Let it fester,” Ventros says as Pidge bites her lip, face scrunched together in pain. “Let it help you on the path to become a most perfect being like your forefathers.” 

Pidge opens her eyes with a start. They are pitch black. Lance lets out a whine. 

They’ve lost. 

Ventros lets out an uproarious laugh. Lance’s quintessence falls back into his body and though he feels his energy return, he can’t find the will to do much but glare, his face already stained with tears. 

“You won’t get away with this,” is all he manages to say. 

It turns Ventros’s attention back onto him, the evil grin seemingly permanently plastered to his face. “Your defiance is amusing,” he muses. “I’ll keep you alive for a bit longer, for an experiment. We will see if Katie remembers how much you mean to her. Love can be so easily warped for all the wrong purposes.” 

His cackling laughter makes Lance sick, and renews his determination. Though fruitless, he struggles against his magical bonds. 

“You can struggle all you’d like, boy. Those chains are constructs directly tied to my power, they will not break.”

And yet...

The chain by his shoulder snaps and the shackles dissolve. Lance sucks in an astonished breath. How?

“What?” Ventros gasps. “Where are you finding such strength?” He summons a dark sphere, launching it directly at him.

Lance rolls off the altar, body screaming in pain. The magic blasts off slivers of stone that rain down on his head. 

“It is you who needs to reevaluate his strength!” 

Allura’s voice carries down from the top of the temple. At her side are the other Voltron Knights. In her hand, a candle nearly spent. 

Lance smirks as he realizes this was the plan all along. Pidge came only to stall for more time - with a decoy candle. Allura drops the candle, the remainder of the wax glittering in the waning fire. 

“No! Curse you all a thousand fold!” Ventros screams. His body stretches, thinning to the width of a quill before poofing out of existence. 

They are free. 

Pidge gasps and stumbles forward, her eyes returning to their beautiful amber color. Though he’s still sore, Lance reaches on his knees to catch her in his arms. 

“You are so brilliant,” he says into her hair. “I was so scared for you.” 

Pidge chuckles, returning his hug. “What, you didn’t think I could do it?”

Lance bites his lip. “That’s… that’s not it. I saw your eyes turn black as night. I couldn’t feel Blue or the other swords. I thought I’d have to watch you destroy all you love. That’s not you, Pidge.”

She plants a gentle kiss against the side of his mouth, stroking the hair behind his ears reverently. “I know. I’m sorry to worry you, Lance. I couldn’t risk letting him on to the plan.”

“I know,” he echoes, kissing her lips lightly. “I’m not angry, just relieved and glad you’re in my arms now.”

The sides of her mouth curl up, eyes shining with delight. “Me too.” She settles her head into his chest. “Let’s go home, Lance. For real this time.”

Lance holds her tighter, heart fluttering with joy. “Your wish is my command, my Lady.”

[ebhenah]

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

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron) Characters: Hunk (Voltron), Allura (Voltron), Pidge | Katie Holt, Shiro (Voltron), Krolia (Voltron), Keith's Wolf (Voltron), Coran (Voltron), Keith (Voltron), Lance (Voltron), Acxa (Voltron), Bob (Voltron), Romelle (Voltron), Kaltenecker (Voltron) Additional Tags: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Feels, Suicidal Ideation, passive suicidal thoughts, Depression, Apathy, Pining, Strained Friendships, Seperation, Temporary Character Death, emotional fallout from temporary death, Lance (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Demisexual Keith (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Season/Series 07, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Reflection, heavy emotional issues, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, Pining Lance (Voltron), Past James Griffin/Keith (Voltron), Jealousy, Misunderstandings, they're bad at talking but they're trying, POV Lance (Voltron) Summary:

Lance is struggling. Between the upheaval, the growing distance between him and his friends, the loss of the Castle, the homesickness, and so much more, he just can't seem to cope. He's trying... but it's not working. He doesn't know how to ask for the help he knows he needs, and no one seems to notice that anything is wrong... until Keith does.

*warning* This fic is told exclusively through Lance's pov and he is in a dark place, emotionally. There is healing and a happy resolution at the end, but I do not shy away from the pain he is in and how he turns that onto himself. If you are prone to negative self-talk, be wary. Written for @shastelly for the @langstron gift exchange.

[toxxicsky]

For the Langst Exchange.

for @idiotic--fangirl

here is the story to go with it. from @fallen-angel-nightshade https://archiveofourown.org/works/21051941