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Pidge never considered Lance and Hunk her friends.

Classmates, sure. Maybe even acquaintances—being tied to them as a teammate leads them to spend plenty of time outside of the mandatory school hours together. The association is a nuisance at most. Lance is loud, snarky, and bold. He begs for attention that puts Pidge’s plans at risk time and time again. Hunk is the wild opposite. His cowardice and paranoia twinges Pidge with irritation and seeps anxiety into her late night ventures to collect data.

Can’t they stay put? Can’t they function well? Lance’s starry eyes are always fixed on some ridiculous prize—one day, a girl’s attention, another, Keith Kogane’s scores. Pidge doesn’t even know Hunk well enough to learn his aspirations. He seems keen on a meticulous line of mechanical engineering that his shaky hands and scattered brain disagree with. It shouldn’t matter to her. So what if Pidge got stuck with a lousy team? They are a means to an end. Once she gets to space, they’ll be long forgotten.

The two idiots Hunk and Lance will be long left behind.

But for now, they tear up Pidge’s free time like unfed, scavenging vultures. Lance keeps dragging her to late night parties and snarking about the stick up her ass every time she slips away. Hunk will peer over her shoulder whenever she monitors the Garrison’s radio transmissions in their shared dormitory. When she shut her laptop in a hurry, Lance cackles that he interrupted her porn. Iverson lashes out at them because of their inadequacy and Pidge ends up on the receiving end of his fiery wrath despite holding up her end of the team.

It’s tiresome. It’s frustrating. She has so much work to do, so much, and now she has been dumped with what? Babysitting two near adults? Entertaining them?

Her brother and father are out there, somewhere in the vast reaches of space, unreachable and untraceable. Dead, maybe. It’s been months since their disappearance. Should they be anywhere near their spacecraft, their rations will have run out by now. The power of several crucial ship components will have died. They, along with Takashi Shirogane, will be left with nothing but their suits and minimal oxygen. Tools that aren’t meant to keep life sustained in outer space.

They must be dead.

It’s very probable.

The paths of different events all vary. Their ship might’ve exploded, leading to an immediate death. There could’ve been a collision or an issue with pressure levels or a fire or a power outage. Or they might be just fine, without signal, and on their way back. They might’ve gotten a disease or entered a warp in space-time. They could’ve made contact with extraterrestrial life. Or, god forbid, the Garrison has abandoned them, leaving them stranded with malicious intent.

No matter what, their chances of survival are low.

It pains Pidge to think of. She doesn’t even have the privacy to cry herself to sleep at night about it. Her eyes remain rubbed raw and hugged by dark circles that grow more sallow and sunken by the day. She ignores the missing posters her mother has put up for her. Have you seen Katelyn Holt? She turns the other way.

Pidge tunes out the whole world. Chatty Lance and nervous Hunk, angry professors and egotistical commanders, worried family members and the suspicious police. Her old dog who must’ve picked up on the emptying house. Her high school that she ditched for good. Her name, gender, and identity.

Pidge tosses it all away. She will get to space. She will find her family.

It’s only when she’s tumbled into the back of a sentient robot lion with her team, a stranger, and pilot Takashi Shirogane does she realize how big of a leap towards her goals she’s taken. This is her chance. Lance dangles a golden ticket in front of her and she snatches it out of his hands. Pidge watches the ground go distant as he pulls the lever in the Blue Lion.

She never would’ve thought that it’d be Lance and Hunk, her idiot teammates, who’d bring her here.

It’d do her some good to be grateful. But here they are, goofing off, and—what’s this Voltron that everyone’s talking about? Pidge doesn’t have the time for such a large responsibility. If the princess could point a swift finger at her and call her a paladin, then she could find any new pilot for the Green Lion because Pidge is shackled to another commitment.

No one else thinks the same way. Lance and Hunk are staying. Shiro, her main lead, is staying. Keith, who had many angry words for her announcement of departure, is also staying.

She’s the odd one out.

She’s going to be searching all by herself in this unknown space.

All alone…

Then, the Castle gets attacked. She’s staying. Lance gets injured. She’s staying, guaranteed, but she’s not sure why her heart cries for him; she barely knows him.

Hunk’s lips tremble in the aftermath. His hands clench and unclench and he paces with no direction. Pidge pats him on the back while they wait for Lance to wake in the pod. Her sympathy bleeds towards him too.

It’s hard to explain—she hasn’t had friends before. Matt is her friend, but he’s her brother and he’s not even here. He’s missing.

Pidge knows that’s what this is: friendship. This is the olive branch, no matter how ridiculous looking and shaped, that she’s been neglecting for the sake of putting work first. She thought there’s no room in her life for friends, not now for certain and not friends who are so…distracting.

But Hunk ruffles her hair and gives suggestions for her prison detection program. Lance makes jokes that have actual humorous value—Pidge catches herself laughing at a few, to her dismay and his glee. They watch her back in battle. They vouch for her in discussions and they race around searching for Samuel and Matthew Holt without her having to explain the depth of her desperation. This thing is new—this lack of loneliness. This genuine camaraderie. Pidge finds herself wondering if the two of them would’ve given her this much heart and vigor had she opened up to them at the Garrison. She thinks, yes. They would’ve been there for her the same, whether on ground or in space. And she would do the same for them.

Because they are friends.

For my dear friend elli's (@bluemantics) event. Prompt: Garrison Trio

#bluemantics700 #garrison trio #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defenders #lance mcclain #voltron legendary defender #pidge holt #pidge gunderson #katie holt #pidge vld #hunk garrett #hunk voltron #hunk vld #lance voltron #vld ficlet #voltron ficlet #this became more Pidge centered whoops #garrison trio voltron

Bandity I feel like you’re giving your followers so. Much. Content. I’m super thrilled (but also take your time)! Umm so I have had this idea in mind for a long time, but essentially the team is invited to a planet for a couple days, to forge a potential alliance. The aliens there value intellect and they are super smart. Long story short, they start making jabs at Lance and leaving him out due to him having trouble following along. So that’s my idea and do with it what you wish! All the best✨

This probably didn't go where you thought it would exactly. I did my best to keep it to 1k. I did not succeed. Title is taken from the quote: "Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and to remove all doubt" Please excuse mistakes, I'm a mess.

Also, I will be working on the other prompts, they will just be slow due to school and work and life.

Words: ~1750

Remove all doubt

Lance could talk fast.

In two languages even.

So it wasn’t that the Crineleans were speaking at too quick a pace. It was the way they said things. If one word ended in a vowel sound and the next one started with a vowel, the two words just merged right into one.

And he was just supposed to know what they meant from the context of the rest of the sentence that wasn’t mashed together.

#Follower appreciation #bandity answers #Voltron ficlet #langst

too deep a poison

@littlewhitetie i mean....you know i won’t object to more 👀

now with a sequel

Word count: 1893

love starters

“How long have you been like this?” His voice comes out flat, question turned into a command by the cold anger steeling it. Keith hunches his shoulders, curls more in on himself. He’s heard Shiro angry plenty of times, a couple times at him, but it makes his gut turn over and twist, hurt doubling down on the feverish ache already spread throughout his body. “A while,” he says, churlish. Time’s been fuzzy, oil-slick through his grasp, but Shiro’s tone has turned him newly sullen, too. He doesn’t need a lecture on how he should have gone to the medbay after the Blades’ latest mission. It hadn’t been so bad in the beginning. He doesn’t look up as Shiro’s footsteps thud across the floor. Ever since the arena, Shiro’s footsteps have been soft and forward on his feet, rolling ball-to-heel like a cat. Now, though, little reverberations run through the floor with the strike of his bootheels. Keith doesn’t have to look up to know Shiro’s in his armor; he can feel the weight of it in his clipped steps. He pauses beside the bed, and his gaze falls like a lead weight on the back of Keith’s head. “Are you going to turn over?” Shiro asks. He wants to let his silence answer, wants to make Shiro read the reply in his hunched back and hidden face, but he’s still got enough presence of mind to feel embarrassed at the prospect. He rolls over.

The look Shiro gives him isn’t particularly soft or kind; there’s no comfort in the clinical way his eyes scan over Keith’s trembling limbs, the hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. His lips purse, twist to the left as if displeased. “Come on,” he says, holding out his hand. Frowning, Keith stares at the hand in incomprehension. Shiro sighs, flexing his hand as if in frustration. “You need a shower,” he says, “and a change of sheets.” Oh. Keith nods slightly before catching himself, nausea roiling up his throat. He sits up and fumbles his legs out of the sheets to set his feet on the floor. Taking Shiro’s hand, he pushes off the bed with his other — and immediately stumbles past Shiro by a too-long step, legs wobbling and weak beneath him. Shiro crouches as he goes down, catching Keith’s shoulders before he can hit the ground. He huffs out a breath, lips thinned in annoyance, and adjusts his grip to slide his arms around Keith’s shoulders and under his knees. “No, Shiro—” Keith starts, but Shiro’s already straightened, hiking Keith up in his arms. The shift in orientation makes his head spin, and he squeezes his eyes shut, turning into Shiro’s chest like a child hiding from the light. Shiro doesn’t say anything, but he tenses slightly, arms tightening under Keith’s weight, and there’s a beat before he moves again. Hands clutched up by his throat, Keith bites back the tears that suddenly threaten him — at how twisted and uneasy his belly feels, at how distant Shiro’s made himself, at how helpless and aching he feels with his nose pressed against the hard surface of Shiro’s armor. It’s not a long walk to the showers — they’re centered between the bedrooms on this floor — but it’s long enough that Keith feels almost deprived when Shiro peels him away to set him down on the bench. He slumps there, spent. Leaning his elbows on his thighs, he stares at the floor with half-focused eyes and swallows down the bile that rose in his throat at the change in levels again. He hears more than sees Shiro strip off his armor; the bracers thunk against the hard polymer bench, then the cuirass. He frowns but can’t make himself lift his head. There’s a small pause before bare feet pad into his line of vision. From this angle, he can trace the scars littering even this part of Shiro’s body: a deep purple oval on the top of one foot from a weapon tipped in alien poison; half the pinky toe missing from his left; the silver-pink edges of scars curling around his ankle and disappearing up under the dark fabric of his undersuit. “Straighten up.” Shiro’s hands curl into the hem of Keith’s shirt as he pushes himself more upright, and the black t-shirt is dragged up and over his head. Sweat-soaked, it sticks to his face and clings to his arms as Shiro tugs it off. It’s cast aside with a damp flop, and Shiro kneels to hook fingers into Keith’s waistband and pull off his pajama pants. A flush that has little to do with the fever rises in Keith’s cheeks, and he looks away, mortified. How many times has he wanted them to be in this position? How many times has he fantasized about the feeling of Shiro’s hands slipping along his body? Now, Shiro hoists him to his feet with one arm pulled over Shiro’s shoulders and they walk in tandem to the shower. Misery is a wet sack in Keith’s gut as Shiro positions them so that Keith’s back leans against his chest under the hot water. He’s not rough but methodical; there is nothing intimate about the way he massages shampoo into Keith’s hair or rubs down his chest and legs with a cloth. The water splatters against the sterile shower setting and they say nothing at all. Turning him around, Shiro lets Keith hold onto his shoulders as he sets to washing his shoulders and back. He crouches to wash the backs of his legs, and Keith swallows and holds a little tighter. Hot water drips from his sodden bangs to run down his forehead and cheeks, and he calls it a disguise for the tears that slip burning from his eyes. Shiro straightens up and Keith leans into him, presses his face to his collarbone as Shiro sets to rinsing them off. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. Even with the water spattering around them and Keith’s voice muffled by Shiro’s body, he knows Shiro heard him. Ever since he came back, ever since Allura cradled his soul and poured it back into his own body, he’s been different — sharper. The Black Lion changed him, left him marked. His sight’s better, reflexes faster, hearing keener. “It’s fine,” he says now, low. “No, I mean for” — Keith swallows, pushes back enough to meet Shiro’s eyes. His own are stinging now, and he knows the shower spray can’t hide the redness that’s there — “for not searching for you. For leaving you out there.” Shiro looks away, but his jaw is clenched tight. A muscle at the back bulges, shifts under his skin. “I’m sorry for abandoning you,” he says and his voice breaks. He hates himself for the crack, for the weakness. This isn’t about him; this isn’t supposed to be about him. Shiro shouldn’t be helping him at all, much less comforting him for this. Shiro sighs, chest sinking under Keith’s hands. He looks to Keith, finally, and there is a new tiredness heavy in the dark of his eyes. “What do you want me to say?” he asks. His bangs stick to his forehead, the shock of white turned grey by the water. Keith’s hand itches to reach up and brush them out of his eyes, but he knows better than to try. He had that right once, that privilege to casually invade Shiro’s space and be welcomed closer. He lost it. “You — all of you — believed a stranger was me,” Shiro continues. “You let him in and brushed off all the signs like they were nothing. I thought you knew me.” He breaks off, looks away. Under his words is a deeper ache, and Keith bites his bottom lip to stop its trembling. He does know Shiro, he does — or he did, once. He knew him better than any living person when Shiro left for Kerberos. The first missing year created new gaps, but Shiro let him into some of those shadows at least, told him things that Keith knew he would never admit to the other paladins. Even then, he still knew him. Now, though — Keith swallows. “I do,” he promises, voice strained. “I know you, Shiro. I just — I was distracted — I made a mistake.” Shiro’s eyes are no kinder when he looks to Keith now. “I called your name every time you stepped into the Black Lion,” he says. “I screamed for you until I couldn’t remember any word except your name.” His words hit like a punch to Keith’s diaphragm. It would have been gentler if he’d coiled his prosthetic hand into a fist and slammed it into Keith’s belly with the force that can break apart steel. “You didn’t listen.” “I’m sorry,” Keith sobs. “Shiro, please, I’m sorry.” His fingers have tightened into Shiro’s soaking-wet suit, and he can’t hold in the shaking sobs that rack his whole frame. They come like tides breaking on rocks, gasps that are swallowed in tears and the spray of the shower. Shiro meets his gaze, jaw shifting to the side just-so. The anger dissipates, turns to pity instead. “You can’t fix this, Keith,” he says. His tone is soft, so gentle it’s almost a kindness. Keith doesn’t want it. He wants Shiro to rail at him, to spit back all his anger and hurt. There would still be a chance there, still be the possibility that he could vent it all out and they could find each other again. This gentleness is a mercy killing. “Shiro, no,” Keith pleads. Reaching past him, Shiro flips off the shower and doesn’t meet Keith’s eyes as he shepherds him out of the shower. The tears have mostly stopped, turned to trembling shoulders and an ache in his chest deeper than any poison. Shiro dries him off as efficiently as he washed him, and Keith is wrung dry of any energy to feel ashamed when he’s scooped up this time. Some of the queasiness seems to have eased, but it’s hard to say with the new knot of nausea tangling in his belly. He leans against the wall, listless, as Shiro strips the sheets off his bed and tosses them into a pile in a corner before replacing them with the spare set in the drawer under the mattress. Once it’s made, he flips back the corner of the sheets and steers Keith over to sit down on the mattress. Pajamas are pulled on over his head and up his legs, and too quickly the whole ordeal is over and Shiro is straightening up as he directs Keith to go back to sleep. Hunching up under the covers, Keith bites his lip as Shiro nudges the pile of dirty sheets over to the side more and moves toward the door. He wants, desperately, to fix this. He wants to make it right so badly he can feel it like a hand reached straight into his chest and tightening around his heart. “Will you stay?” he asks. Shiro pauses in the doorway, hand resting on the frame. He dips his head, drawing taut the line of his neck and shoulders. “Not this time.” He doesn’t look back as he straightens and steps through, and the door closes with a quiet hush. Behind him, Keith is left alone with the silence and the strangling guilt.

#voltron ficlet #sheith #voltron fic #shiro #keith #angst #sick fic #my writing

to post this after the whole tumblr shebang yesterday [sweats]

anyway, here i am, filling in a request sent to me!! it’s another wet dream but this time Lance dreaming about Keith. not so much build up in this one, but i enjoyed it all the same. i hope you guys do, too!

you can still send in writing requests, btw! they’re always, always open uwu

When Lance woke up to the feeling of breathing down his neck, a leg slotted between his own, and grinding against his ass, he knew he found himself in another wet dream. And the star of it? None other than Keith himself. You couldn’t blame him. He’s been thinking about Keith way before the wolf decided to court him. These dreams were beyond familiar, and Lance was beyond embarrassed. So he didn’t hesitate in pressing against Keith, matching his movements until it felt like the wolf was close to bursting through his clothing.

#abo klance #abo voltron #abo dynamics #alpha keith #omega lance #wolf keith #rabbit lance #klance ficlet #klance smut #voltron smut #voltron ficlet #heavenlyrare #ao3 wolf & rabbit #klance ao3 #request filled!#ficlets

I couldnt sleep last night so I thought up lance coming out to shiro (since that picture where they are together holding the lgbt sign) and it went something like this:

Lance took a deep breath and knocked on Shiro’s door before he had the time to realize how bad of an idea that was and walk away. Shiro opened up and a puzzled expression appeared on his face when he saw who was knocking.

“Lance?”

“Hi, uhm, can i talk to you?”

“Sure,” said Shiro stepping aside to let the boy enter. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I just… need to say something? I think… I need… advice?”

“Oh, uh, sure, you can tell me anything.”

“Yeah… hmmmm…. I… you know I like girls, right? Like, I reeeaally like girls.”

“Yees…? You kinda remind everyone every single day…”

“Yeah.” Lance laughed nervously, crossing his arms. “I really like girls. I like them so much. I like flirting with them and–”

“Lance”

Lance stopped and stared at his own feet, unable to make himself look at Shiro in the eyes.

“I think I know where you are going with this speech,” said Shiro, putting a hand on Lance’s shoulder. “But I won’t say it for you, so just go ahead and say it, it’s okay.”

“You know?”

“Yeah…? I mean, I get how you must be feeling…”

“Ho… you get it?” Repeated Lance, a confused line between his eyebrows. “You like boys too?”

“What?” Blurted Shiro, eyes widening, “I thought we were talking about Allura!”

“What!” Shrieked Lance, taking a step back, “You like Allura??”

“You like boys??”

Lance laughed nervously, “no way, ha ha, I was joking… jeez, you believed that…” he turned towards the door, wanting nothing more than to lock himself in his room and call himself a dumbass for the rest of the night. This had been a mistake. A huge, nefarious mistake.

“No, Lance, wait!” Shiro called after him, “that came out wrong, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Like what?” Said Lance stopping.

“Like it’s a big deal. It’s… okay. If you like boys.”

“Is it?”

“Why shouldn’t it be?”

“Because… I like girls.”

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive. It’s just called being bisexual.”

Lance gasped softly. “That’s the word, quiznack,” he whispered, “I knew I heard something like that…”

Shiro smiled. “Lance, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it, okay? If you ever feel like telling the rest of the team, know that I’ll be there to help you out and support you. And thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”

“Uhm, sure, whatever. Thanks? I guess.”

Shiro covered the few feet that divided them and hugged Lance tightly.

Lance let Shiro squeeze him like an empty toothpaste tube.

“Don’t tell Allura about… you know.” Shiro whispered, without letting him go.

“Sure,” said Lance, fighting for breath, until Shiro loosened his grip, “You don’t tell Keith.”

“What?”

“Omygod.” Lance pulled away, pretending to look at the nonexistent watch on his wrist, “look at time!! I gotta go! Bye Shiro, t'was nice talking to you!” He cried darting out of the door, leaving Shiro with his arms raised and his mouth open.

“Keith?? !”

#voltron #voltron legendary defender #voltron ficlet #klance #shallura #lance #shiro #coming out #the talk™#dad!shiro #protect my son #i should just sleep instead of writing these things #mine

mostly unbeta’d witches!lance & allura with their familiars!shiro & keith + this was suppose to be a ficlet but it ran away from me

i’m sorry if the ending is awkward and abrupt and just w e i r d

—————————

Okay, so maybe the media was right, and Lance just happened to be an outlier when it came to familiars.

With a soft, fond smile on his face, Lance watched as Shiro slept soundly in his dog form, side flank raising and falling slowly in time with his deep breaths and body stretched out. His eyes were drawn to the black ball of fluff curled up on his familiar’s side, tucked securely within itself. His mind started to wander down Memory Avenue, but was stopped by Allura returning from her kitchen with two mugs in her hands. He shifted his focus from their familiar to her, grinning as she settled down next to him before handing him a mug, which he took gratefully.

“God, I love your tea,” Lance gushed after chancing a sip, sighing blissfully afterwards.

#attractively sarcastic writing #ficlet #supposedly a ficlet #witch!lance #witch!allura #familiar!shiro #familiar!keith #dog!shiro #cat!keith #i’m most likely gonna write another ficlet nwjsnske #witch AU #voltron ficlet #shance #kallura #i’m also on mobile so heck

!!DISCONTINUED!! Klance - soulmate au

Author’s notes:

Update 12th July 2019: This story is unfortunately discontinued and “ends” with part 4. I’m really sorry. Links to the other chapters below.

It happens for the first time when he is five.

He’s lying in bed with a cold, eating the chicken soup his mother made him, when he suddenly hears a bunch of children sing.

Lance recognizes the song immediately. It’s one of those they make you sing in kindergarten. He drops his spoon into the bowl and calls for his mom excitedly.

His soulmate must be around his age.

Keith almost falls off his bike from giggling.

He’s on his way home from school when his soulmate listens to some song about butts. It’s form him, he knows that.

It’s not what they usually listen to and it’s become kind of a habbit. They will listen to something with really weird lyrics at the most unexpected of times just to make Keith laugh. His parents find it a bit inappropriate at times but Keith doesn’t mind. He can feel his soulmate’s amusement each time and it makes him laugh even harder.

He likes to think about what his soulmate must be like. They mostly listen to pop-rock but sometimes classical music too. Keith likes it. It’s a nice contrast to his own undefinied taste in music. He also hears a lot of wedding and birthday songs so they must have a big family.

Their lives seem to be quite different but Keith likes to thinks that they complete each other.

Lance finds his soulmate’s taste in music weird. It’s not that he doesn’t like the songs, so far he liked all of them in some way. But there are so many different genres. He’s sure that his soulmate is one of those people who listen to everything as long as it sounds good in some way.

He keeps playlists. One playlist for every year since he turned 12. There are a lot of songs in them and they’re taking up a lot of memory but he refuses to delete anything.

When he’s 14 Keith is on edge. There have been no songs for over a week and he is starting to freak out. His soulmate usually listens to music every single day, so when there are no songs at all for that long... something must be very wrong, right?

#klance #klance ficlet #donna writes #klance fanfiction #klance au #klance soulmate au #soulmate au #my posts #voltron #voltron legendary defender #klance fan fiction #fanfiction #voltron fanfiction #voltron ficlet

Friends Have Benefits

For @thesneakyhobo who got me to watch the new Voltron show. Watch out or I will give you crypto/xenobiology posts on possibly wonderful ideas for the Galrans.

This, however, is purely weird Klance fluff to the max.

#voltron #fanfiction #voltron fanfic #Lance x keith #Klance #demi lance #gay keith #voltron ficlet #ficlet #fluff #first kiss

Friends Have Benefits

For @thesneakyhobo who got me to watch the new Voltron show. Watch out or I will give you crypto/xenobiology posts on possibly wonderful ideas for the Galrans.

This, however, is purely weird Klance fluff to the max.

#voltron #fanfiction #voltron fanfic #Lance x keith #Klance #demi lance #gay keith #voltron ficlet #ficlet #fluff #first kiss

#voltron ficlet

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