The Brightest of Blues
  • Reads 30,420
  • Votes 1,349
  • Parts 23
  • Time 1h 52m
  • Reads 30,420
  • Votes 1,349
  • Parts 23
  • Time 1h 52m
Ongoing, First published Aug 12, 2017
// on Hiatus//

A Klance story  
Usually you see the color of your soul mate's eyes, and you are drawn to them.   But Keith has seen a bright blue for 12 years of his life and he hasn't seen his soulmate until his vision is clouded with the brightest of blues...

The first chapter is based of a different story by Bluderous because i was bored  and felt it could be explained better so that's what i did. No offence to the original story writer i did like the story but the story was written strangely. 
I'm adding music if you don't mind

The characters   don't belong to me. ( except for the two unnamed boys aunt Teresa Jackson Aspen Nora Opal and Maddie and any other characters I may add)  the cover art is by the amazing elentori 
please support the original release.
All Rights Reserved
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Lance's Funeral by NineteenEighteen
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Keith hated himself for liking Lance. His limber build, the way he carried himself with shoulders raised and chin held high. His blue eyes, dark like the sea's deep, inky bottom. His tangled mess of dark brown hair that stood at odd angles, and never seemed to obey Lance's vigorous brushing. His smooth, light brown skin as he crinkled his nose, or batted the sand from his eyes on a particularly windy afternoon. Even his laugh, as loudly obnoxious as it was, Keith adored. And that was the worst part, because, unlike Keith, Lance hated him. With every word he uttered, an argument seemed to arise. Lance constantly joked and poked fun of Keith, determined to one up him in every way imaginable. So, in all retrospect, Keith had every right to detest Lance in return. But that was the thing: he didn't. Even as Lance stood before him on the worst days - face scrunched and reddened, throat hoarse from the shouting - all Keith thought as he stood stone faced, eyes locked on Lance's chattering lips, was: 'wow, I really want to kiss this shit-head.' And then he was both mad at himself and the world. Mad at himself for imagining Lance in ways he shouldn't, and mad at the world for allowing Lance to be in his life in the first place. It was torture. As powerful as a lash to the chest, or a hammer to the kneecap. Especially now, as Keith stood above Lance's cold, unflinching corpse. The dead boy's bony hands crossed over his chest, shoulders squared atop the white, velvet cushion that rested inside the opened coffin. He wore the best suit and tie money could buy, and had his shaven scalp hidden by a head of hair that was similar, but could never match the boy's old image. The image before cancer. The image before hell. The image before Keith's every being crumbled to dust. *** A Klance au in which Keith discovers that him and only him can see Lance's ghost. COVER ART: kuurakuu on Tumblr
Take Over by LolaOnTheInterweb
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"S-Stay, p-please," Keith mumbled, hiding his face in his pillow. Lance nodded climbing beside the small boy. Keith turned to face him, his face flushed as he looked at Lance, "T-Thanks." "For what?" Lance whispered, his breath close enough for Keith to touch. "B-Being by my side," Keith moved closer to Lance, closing the small distance between them, "I-I thought y-you'd all hate me." "Why would you think that?" "Ha," Keith let out a bitter laugh, "I'm half Galra. I share half of my DNA with a race who has killed countless civilizations, not to mention they kidnapped Shiro and Katie's family, and they-" "Exactly, "they". You didn't help them do any of that, right?" Lance touched Keith's forehead with his own, drinking in the feel of his soft skin. "N-No but-" "No "buts", you didn't choose to be born part Galra, and you have more than proved you're a paladin." "Allura and Coran hate me," Keith mumbled, trying to find some way to prove that they did indeed hate him. "No they don't, just give them some time to adjust," Keith turned around, pulling Lance's arm around him, "They have to get used to you. None of us hate you, not the smallest bit." Lance waited for Keith to argue but the boy had already fallen asleep. Lance hugged the boy tighter as he copied his steady breaths. "I could never hate you." ------------------------------------------------- Keith gets kidnapped during a simple mission of the paladins. He's tortured and abused for three days, leaving him a damaged mess. The paladins finally find him and bring him home, but Keith is acting strange, stranger than usual. I obviously don't own Voltron. If you thought that, you're not all there when it comes to brains, thanks for the laugh though. Just got #1 in galra - 11/2/18 Thank you, you wonderful people!
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Lance's Funeral

25 parts Complete

Keith hated himself for liking Lance. His limber build, the way he carried himself with shoulders raised and chin held high. His blue eyes, dark like the sea's deep, inky bottom. His tangled mess of dark brown hair that stood at odd angles, and never seemed to obey Lance's vigorous brushing. His smooth, light brown skin as he crinkled his nose, or batted the sand from his eyes on a particularly windy afternoon. Even his laugh, as loudly obnoxious as it was, Keith adored. And that was the worst part, because, unlike Keith, Lance hated him. With every word he uttered, an argument seemed to arise. Lance constantly joked and poked fun of Keith, determined to one up him in every way imaginable. So, in all retrospect, Keith had every right to detest Lance in return. But that was the thing: he didn't. Even as Lance stood before him on the worst days - face scrunched and reddened, throat hoarse from the shouting - all Keith thought as he stood stone faced, eyes locked on Lance's chattering lips, was: 'wow, I really want to kiss this shit-head.' And then he was both mad at himself and the world. Mad at himself for imagining Lance in ways he shouldn't, and mad at the world for allowing Lance to be in his life in the first place. It was torture. As powerful as a lash to the chest, or a hammer to the kneecap. Especially now, as Keith stood above Lance's cold, unflinching corpse. The dead boy's bony hands crossed over his chest, shoulders squared atop the white, velvet cushion that rested inside the opened coffin. He wore the best suit and tie money could buy, and had his shaven scalp hidden by a head of hair that was similar, but could never match the boy's old image. The image before cancer. The image before hell. The image before Keith's every being crumbled to dust. *** A Klance au in which Keith discovers that him and only him can see Lance's ghost. COVER ART: kuurakuu on Tumblr