It's been a full year since Lance left voltron to join the Blade. At the time he thought it was a good idea, he thought the team would be better without him because in reality, he's a hoax. He's a complete joke. No one takes him seriously, and he always manages to fuck up.
Or
After Lance has been on the BOM for a year, his team gets a distress call from no other than voltron.
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Sorry for how long this took, if there are typos pls let me know.
Can you make a langst story where anytime someone says something that would hurt lance emotionally it would show on his skin. The team thinks that most of the words came from them when it turned out that it was mostly from his father. If you write this I will give you my soul.
Of course! Thanks so much for the prompt! (Side Note, im writing this on my phone, so I apologize in advance.) Note, some of Lance’s interactions with the team may be ooc!
Lance had expected to die when the cocoon of purple-white light surrounded him. Of course he knew it was magic, but light was less of a terrifying description of the light. Lance had expected to die, but instead pain spiraled through his entire being for what seemed like ages before dying down into a cold, empty throbbing. “Lance! Are you okay?” Hunk asked, and Lance weakly lifted his hand in a thumbs up. Not really, his brain supplied helpfully, but that wasn’t something he or his team needed. “Then why aren’t you fighting? Lance, we need all hands on deck, not you slacking.” Shiro’s words hurt the same way a scolding from his mama did, but, suddenly, pain ripped down his back and he fought against screaming. Pushing himself up weakly, Lance forced himself to bottle up the pain and instead continue shooting down Galran drones. The pain began to subside when Shirt called through the comma again. “Lance, I need you on my six! Stop wasting time on sentries!” Shiro commanded, and Lance nodded, swinging his gun over to face Shiro, where to Black Paladin was currently cutting Galran soldiers down like a scythe cute through wheat stalks. Pain again ripped up Lance’s spine, and he slipped, his gun discharging right for Shiro. A Galran sentry stepped in front of the blast moments before it collided with the Black Paladin, and Lance exhaled in relief before continuing to shoot down the soldiers. Lance knew his strength was waning from the blast of Haggar’s magic and the blood he could feel oozing down his back, but he couldn’t let Shiro down. Not now. Haggar had already turned tail and run, but it was imperative the Galran base was destroyed. The Kalemat Stretch was a massive canyon that cut through the moon Jamara orbiting a massive gas giant in the far reaches of the quadrant. Twice the size of Jupiter and five times as unstable, which meant the moons circling it were hard to get to and very well protected. The Kalemat Stretch was the Galran base built into the walls of the canyon and, coincidentally, a massive provider of Galran weapons. And Lance was not being the cause of this mission’s failure. Not in a million years. Yet, as the blood oozed down his back, he could feel his strength draining, and he backed away from the fight, his weapon switching to his sniper rifle as he continued to shoot Galran soldiers down. “Lance, what’re you doing? We need you close range!” Pidge shouted, and Lance winced. “I know Pidgeon, but I’m a bit worse for wear than expected.” Lance replied, and Pidge scoffed. “Sure you are, Lance. A bit more lazy- I mean…” Pidge said, and Lance bit back a scream as pain ran down his arm. You’re fine. You’re fine. You’re fine!Lance propped his rifle on a barrel and continued taking out soldiers, rescuing Keith from a bad situation, and aiding Pidge to the control panel. “Lance, I need you to hold back the sentries while I deactivate them.” Pidge said over the comms, and Lance affirmed. He could do this. The world slowed as Lance focused on the sentries moving in on Pidge, and he took them out one by one. Suddenly, something grabbed him from behind, and Lance screamed as he was flung backwards, his bayard clattering to the side. A massive Galran soldier stood over him, a large, jagged blade seeming to grow out of his arm, the hand of which has been mangled and hung useless. Lance felt tiny compared to the soldier, and sure, he was lying on his back like a discarded toy, but the soldier was massive, it’s thick fur covered in blood and parted to reveal a wide, scar-covered face. Lance may have been seven feet tall with his sarcasm added on, but he was nothing to the massive height of this soldier. “Guys? I’ve got a problem.” Lance whispered into his comms, and he could hear the sighs of his teammates. “Of course you do, Lance. You’re a problem.” Allura snapped, and the silence from the others filled Lance with pain. It wasn’t until his leg started burning that he was jolted back into reality. “Uhh… No, I mean an eight foot tall very purple very angry Galran warrior that looks like it wants to eat me. Do they? Do they eat people?” Lance added, his voice raising an octave. “I’ll help him guys.” Hunk signed, and the others thanked him as Lance dragged himself further and further away from the soldier with his good arm and leg. The warrior didn’t look like he was in a hurry, rather it looked like he was entertained by the dead that was rampant in Lance’s face. “Can’t believe he can’t even handle a single soldier.” Pidge muttered, and the pain in his bad arm worsened. Whimpering, he tried to pull himself to his feet, but he couldn’t. He just. He couldn’t. “Lance is useless. I’ve said it before.” Shiro muttered, and Lance couldn’t contain the scream as pain ripped across his back. “Lance? Are you okay?” Hunk asked, worry coloring his voice as he sprinted towards the Red Paladin. “He’s probably faking.” Allura whispered, and Lance dropped himself to the ground. It wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth saving him. Darkness wrapped around him just as Hunk created the hill Lance had hid on only minutes ago, his eyes wide as he took in the massive Galran soldier and immediately re-evaluated his dismissal of Lance’s fear. But it didn’t matter anyways, because the soldier lifted his blade and plunged it deep into Lance’s gut moments after Hunk screamed his name. - - -Lance woke in the medbay, his eyes tired as he stumbled out of the cryopod. Hunk was asleep in a couch nearby, his head rolled at an angle awkward enough Lance knew his neck would be hurting when he woke up. Why did he bother? It wasn’t like Lance was someone useful. It wasn’t like Hunk cared. Lance lifted his shirt and looked down at the thin scar that wrapped around his stomach. The Galran soldier has almost cleaved him in half, good god. Suddenly, the pain that had torn through his body previously came back, and he walked shakily to a mirror. Lifting the back of his shirt, he shuddered at the burn scar that still marred his back from when he had protected Coran. But there, over it, was the word ‘useless’ carved into his skin. He could still hear him saying it, the scathing tone, the dismissive way he had said it. It was the truth. Nothing Lance could ever do would change that, and the brand on his back was a permanent reminded.
I hope you liked it! Sorry again for taking an extra day!
first things first, yes, i did get permission to make a part 2.
secondly, the part one of this is @somewhereoverthespacerainbow ‘s but their account was deactivated but if you haven’t read it already, its on my account somewhere.
sorry if this is bad i haven’t written in a long time, also sorry for any mistakes.
On the way back from the mission Keith felt a strong need to visit Red. he felt something nagging in the back of his mind.
“something must be wrong.” He muttered as he ran towards Red’s hanger.
When he got there, Red had her particle shield up which made Keith even more nervous because Red never had her shield up inside the castle.
“what’s wrong, girl?” he mutters as he reaches the giant red lions shield. He places a hand on the barrier and bows his head, asking for entrance. Red’s eyes flicker on and as soon as they spot Keith, the shield goes down.
A series of concerned rumbles coarse through Keith’s brain and he finds himself saddened at the state his old lion is in.
Due to their weakened bond, with Keith becoming the black paladin and all, Red cannot speak to Keith directly making it harder for Red to explain what happened to the blue paladin.
“There has to be some way you can tell me, you’re really worrying me…” he thinks out loud. Red slowly moves her head down until a loud clunk echos through the hanger from her face touching down onto the metal floor. As her large jaw opens and she practically begs Keith to enter, in which he agrees to.
Red sends pulses of impatience and worry as Keith slowly makes his way up the long ramp.
“you know for a giant red lion that flies through space and has been around for thousands of years, your pretty impatient.” Keith jokes. Apparently Red doesn’t appreciate Keith’s joke and sends a rumble of disapproval through Keith’s head. Keith makes his way to the control panel and sits down in the chair.
“how are you supposed to tell me what’s wrong when you can’t speak to me?” Keith questions. Red urges Keith to shut his eyes and listen.
After a while, Red tells Keith to open his eyes. When he opens his eyes he’ standing behind the chair he was just sitting in. He hears Lance talking to Red as if she was his first lion. Jealousy blossomed through Keith’s chest at the thought of them being so close already. Red growls at Keith to stop thinking like and pushes Keith to listen to what the blue paladin is saying.
“That’s right…” Keith sees Lance look down at the glowing red control panel. “Keith was your paladin first…” Keith hears Lance mutter to himself.
“It’s just like the Garrison…” Lance smiles sadly.
“I’m just Keith’s replacement…” Keith wanted to scream at Lance that it wasn’t true but when he opens his mouth, nothing comes out.
“Again…” Lance whispers dejectedly.
Keith opens his eyes slowly, still shocked in what Red showed him. He needs to talk to Lance. He needs to fix his team mate. He needs to fix his friend.
He rushes out on the giant red lion to find him. To help him.
Keith finds Lance walking the long hall that leads each paladin to their room.
“Lance!” he calls out while running up to him. “I need to talk to you.” More softly.
Lance looks up at Keith with a mad look on his face.
“what do you want, mullet?” Lance sighs. “I don’t feel like arguing right now so make it quick.” Keith had stopped directly in front of the blue paladin. Worry filled his face as he looked closely at Lance. He has massive bags under his eyes that make it look like he’s been punched in the face multiple times.
“Are you… okay Lance?” Lance’s eyebrows furrow, is he high?
“Ummm… yea? Are you okay?” Lance replies jokingly. Keith was acting weird.
“Lance quit joking around, I’m being serious. Red showed me what you were saying about yourself before battle.” Keith presses. Lance blushes from embarrassment. Wow that lion cannot keep a secret.
“Uh, yea! I’m… I’m fine!” he replies, his eyes glossing over. Keith notices the soon to be tears and pulls Lance into a very awkward hug.
“Please, please Lance, stop thinking like that. It’s not true. You’re not a replacement. The team loves you. Please Lance.” Keith pleads.
Lance was lost for words for the first time in a long time. Tears made their way down his face. He finally caved in. he sobbed and wailed for a good five minutes. Keith just stood there and held Lance while he poured his heart out. After a while, Lance pulled back.
“Oh god. I’m sorry, I got snot and tears all over your jacket.” Lance chokes out.
“It’s fine Lance. Just, next time you feel like this, please come to one of your team members. We’re always here for you.” Keith responds.
Lance has always been a disappointment to the team. He constantly screws up. and jokes in the wrong times.
He usually manages to get himself hurt, and he's lost count of the many healing pod trips he's had.
At training he can never focus, and fails the simulation over and over again.
After he gets yelled at by Allura, or the team, Shiro comes over to tell him he's an asset to the team, and that we all make mistakes.
But he hasn't seen one other person screw up as much as him.
Keith. Keith is kind and takes his drills seriously. He never fucks up, and is always there to back up the team. Keith hates Lance with a passion, and everytime Keith punches Lance for being a dick--he's grateful, because Lance knows he deserves it.
Hunk. Hunk carries the team through missions with a smile. He's always been a good shoulder to cry in, and is great at everything he does.
Pidge. Pidge has been like a little sister to Lance. She's a perfectist, and everything she does is precise and neat. Her skills make her an asset to the team.
Shiro. Shiro takes the brunt force of missions, he's constantly worrying about everyone, and is lethal with a weapon.
Coran and Allura are the behind scenes experts. They track enemy ships in battle, and notify the team when danger is coming.
And Lance?
Nothing is speacial about him.
He can't hack, he can't cook, he's not good with a weapon. His jokes are always answered with hard stares and sighs. He manages to fuck up every. Single. Time, and if he disapeared, it would take the team at least two days to notice.
As he looks at his reflectoin that night, he feels nothing but shame as the tears roll down his face, and quiet sniffles fill his room.
He wishes he was better.
He wishes he could be good at something.
He wishes, he wishes, he wishes.
He lifts his hand up and hits himself, hard. Because he deserves it, and he needs to change.
The following days, Lance isolates himself. He doesn't show up at dinner, stays in his room, and only shows up at training. He gets better at what he does, almost never missing a shot, and is disciplined.
He hasn't cracked a joke in weeks, and although he thinks no one has noticed his quietness, he feels better.
he feels better about himself, and the way he does in missions.
occasionally, he gets teased from Keith, "Finally learnt to shut up, huh?" Keith would say. Lance would shrug it off and go to the training room where he spends all of his time.
The team shares worried glances all the time, but this is him now.
This is Lance, cold, hard, and disciplined.
He will never fuck up again.
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I wrote this in like 20 mins cuz I got bored of writing the fic I'm working on rn. Hope you enjoyed :)
Yo, bb, lubs you, could you do a prompt based off the song you are my sunshine, ill give you like, 92 singular luv and an interesting sentence in russian.
You Are My Sunshine
I expect you to pay up with that russian sentence (and a translation please? I only have one Russian-Speaking friend and he’s in Italy). And thanks for the love, I was low on Love lmao. Also I uhh… Looked up the lyrics, wrote them down, wrote the fic, and then learnt it’s popular to sing to children??? I thought it was a love song://////
You are my sunshine, My only sunshine
Keith watched Lance smile at a joke he had made moments earlier, his eyes drifting to meet Keith’s own. Lance’s eyes were beautiful, a deep, ocean blue that seemed to shimmer in the light like waves. Glitter was still lighting up across his face like stars from the glitter war Lance had won earlier that day, the way his eyes had been crinkled in a big smile something Keith kept replaying through his mind.
“You have to meet my mamá. She appreciates my jokes.” Lance said, an over exaggerated pout. Keith smiled and shoved Lance gently.
“She must have just as bad a sense of humor.” Keith replied, and Lance put a hand to his chest in mock horror.
“You horrible-” Lance began before dissolving into a fit of giggles at Keith’s unimpressed face.
“I know. I’m so horrible. So terrible. It’s why you’re dating me.” Keith said, mocking an aloof attitude.
“Oh yes, of course. My hero.” Lance joked, and Keith smiled before kissing Lance.
You make me happy , when skies are grey
Lance sat next to Keith on the bed, his eyes filled with concern.
“Keith, talk to me. Please.” Lance began, and Keith looked down at his hands. He noticed, rather offhandedly, that his hands were shaking. Lance’s own hands took Keith’s, and Keith noticed how cold his hands were against the rough, calloused hands of his boyfriend. Keith looked up into those ocean-blue eyes, those eyes that were filled with concern for him, and he took a deep breath.
“I’m a monster. Lance, I’m a Galra.” Keith finally whispered, and Lance’s fingers tightened around his own.
“So? You’re part Galra. Pidge is part German. Does that make her a Nazi?” Lance asked.
“No, but…” Keith began, shaking his head.
“It’s different? How. You think Zarkon and Lotor are evil; You think their cause is evil. How does that make you evil too? Your blood doesn’t define who you are; you do.” Lance said, and Keith looked up at Lance, a small smile on his face.
“Thanks.”
You’ll never know dear, How much i love you
Keith watched Lance train with his new bayard form. He looked like he was dancing, a beautiful, deadly dance that led him twirling around the training bots that swung for him. He grabbed the arm of one of the bots and flipped it onto the ground and sliced through the other bot before finishing off the first bot. Smiling with satisfaction, Lance looked up at Keith and smiled brightly, his eyes filling with happiness as Keith smiled back and gave him a thumbs up.
“You’re really improving with your blade, Lance.” Keith said, and Lance grinned.
“I learnt from the best!” Lance replied, and Keith blushed.
Please don’t take my sunshine away
Keith screamed, the sound harsh, like broken glass. Tears streaked down his dirt stained face as he clutched Lance to his chest.
“No, no, no, no, no.” Keith screamed as he pulled Lance closer. He couldn’t die. Not here. Not now.
“Keith…” Lance whispered, his words cut off by a cough that left blood running down his chin.
“Keith, I’m so sorry.” Lance said, and Keith shook his head.
“No, no Lance. You’re going to be okay. I promise. You’re going to be okay. It’ll be okay. I promise right? I promise.” Keith said, tears still falling despite a small chuckle.
“We were going to see your mom. Swim in the ocean together. We were… We… Lance?” Keith asked, his voice completely broken as he realized the other boy had stopped breathing. As he noticed the glossy look that covered the other boy’s eyes. As he noticed how much blood was pooling around them.
Keith screamed as he broke.
Yeah so I uhh didn’t know that it was a song you sing to kids I’m so sorry… whoops… Thanks for the prompt though!
[EDIT: sorry for taking so long to tag you, @cafe-com-leite-e-pao-de-queijo, I just saw your request!]
If you ever make a part two of the fic where Shiro chokes Lance I will, in fact, give you my firstborn.
His name will be Jimothee and he will be Geraldine’s brother. They will be sacrificed to Satan, so I hope you’re happy with these fics lmao
Shiro was choking him, his metal hand burning his neck as it heated and clenched around his throat. The skin on his neck felt like it was melting, and the only thing he could taste was blood, and as his vision faded to black, he could only feel the immense terror that filled every part of his body and mind. He was dying, oh fuck, he was really dying.
Lance jolted awake and fell out of the healing pod into someone’s arms. Arms. Hands. Shiro, choking him. Lance pushed himself backwards and stumbled, back slamming against a wall, and panic followed. He was going to be killed. Shiro was-
The Red paladin looked up, eyes wide with terror, and his panic-filled blue eyes were met by steady, deep brown eyes, a smile seeming to shine from them, though concern resided behind that smile, something Lance could see as easily as daylight. Lance had been Hunk’s friend for ages, it was easy to see the concern, and easier to use it to take his mind of the absolute terror that was pulsing through him.
“Hey buddy, what happened?” Lance asked, the question much more quiet and shaky than he had hoped it would sound. Hunk sighed and helped the other boy up. His eyes lingered on Lance’s hands, which shook like leaves in wind, and the other boy smiled awkwardly and crossed his arms.
“Sh…” Lance began again, voice quieter than before, and Hunk looked away. “You can’t think I-”
“No, Lance, I don’t think it was your fault. Obviously it wasn’t your fault. I mean, how could Shiro trying to- to… You know- be your fault?” Hunk replied, and Lance leveled him with a stare. The Yellow paladin wasn’t telling him everything.
“Gosh, okay, fine, whatever. There’s something wrong with Shiro. Like wrong wrong.” Hunk finally sighed as he turned and threw his hands into air in defeat. Hunk never survived Lance’s questioning, and Lance rarely if ever even voiced his questions.
“No shit Sherlock there’s something wrong with him, he tried to kill me! How is not the dictionary definition of wrong!” Lance exploded, and Hunk winced.
“I mean Haggar wrong, Lance.” Hunk finally whispered, and Lance shook his head, disbelief in his eyes as he backed away from the other paladin.
“You’re kidding me, right? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. That’s why none of them are here, right? They’re making sure Sh- he is okay. He tried to fucking kill me and you guys- no, no, I’m out. I don’t care if it was Haggar controlling him, I can’t look at him again. I can’t say his goddamn name because I was hanging from that wall, his hand pinning me there, and all I could think of was how I was actually going to die, how he was going to kill me, how he had finally lost his mind or some shit. I didn’t think once ‘Haggar’s killing me, guys, better come help.’ It was ‘Sh.. He’s killing me. I’ll never see little Vera or mama or Earth again, and it’s not because of the Galra or even because of the war, it’s because of him, so you can go fuck yourself with the ‘it was Haggar’ bullshit, because it was him to me, and it will never not be him, it will never not be his hand crushing my windpipe and burning my skin off and it will never not be his eyes staring at me with that sick amusement and-” Lance cut himself off before he fell over that very new and very delicate edge between terrified, scared, and confused and a full fledged panic attack.
Stumbling backwards, the Red paladin took a shuddering breath before dashing to the door and into the hallway, hands trembling so badly it was hard to open the door. He didn’t remember finding his way to Red’s hanger or even stumbling into the cockpit of the lion, but suddenly he was sitting there, trembling, the normally harsh heat of the Red lion suddenly a gentle warmth that gently filled him with calm.
Lance took a deep, shuddering breath, and leaned his head back. A tear found a path down his face, but he barely registered the feeling of it as it rolled across his skin.
“They care about him more than they care about me and he-” Lance’s voice cut off, and the Red lion purred. He knew that Lance meant.
The priorities of many does not reflect the truth, even if it can be seen only by the few.
Red’s voice was deep and troubled, rage and fire and heat seeming to live and breathe and die all at once within the span of each word. Somehow it was calming, and Lance could feel his panic easing as he listened to the lion. The lion spoke differently from Blue. His vernacular was old and wise, but the way he spoke, his tone, inflections, the emotions Lance could feel through their bond were somehow much wilder and seemingly younger.
“But they’re my friends and they don’t care.” Lance whispered, his voice small and scared and sad.
Time heals all wounds, small one, but it also reveals past mistakes. Their folly will be revealed to them in a way or another. It is not for us to guess when their sight will be cleared, however, it is simply to stand strong.
“How can I be strong when I can’t stop thinking about it? When I’m so afraid of him?” Lance asked, his voice helpless. He really was weak.
Strength does not lie in fear and a lack of fear, it lies in regarding fears as part of life, not the whole of life. Let your fears control you and you will not be strong, yes, but more than that, you will not live.
Silence followed the lion’s words for a long time before Lance pushed himself upwards in the chair and, on slightly unsteady feet, stood. He could face his fears. He was strong.
—
Lance had previously never thought he would fear seeing his team. Sure he dreaded it or disliked it when there were meetings or hard missions and the like, but now he could only feel fear. What if they chose Shiro over him? What if they finally gave up on Lance, the Red Paladin stand in?
Pushing the thoughts from his mind, Lance opened the door to the bridge and was greeted by the solemn faces of his team, plus Keith and Coran. The former, still dressed in the Blade uniform was the first to cross the room and bring him into a tight hug.
“We didn’t know where you were, we’ve been waiting for you for an hour, I was going crazy with worry.” Keith said as Coran, Allura, Pidge, and Hunk joined him in hugging the Red Paladin.
Thanks for the prompt! Hope you liked it, I’ll be expecting Jimothee in ten years time!
Hey, I'm struggling with anxiety like I haven't in a real long while. Could you write something with Lance and dealing with anxiety that manifests in really horrible stomach pain if he isn't constantly distracted which is why he is so zany? If not, totally fine. Thank you for your time. I appreciate your blog very much.
Hey! Sorry it took me a bit to write this, I was on a bit of I hiatus until I sorted some things out. Thanks for the prompt!
Lance wasn’t about to say he was the best paladin. Hell, he wasn’t even close to being a good paladin, but he had hoped- prayed, really- that it wasn’t something that would cut into his mind at all hours of the day. But hey, people with chronic anxiety can’t be choosers.
It had started out simple. Lagging in training, missing out on tech talk, simple, stupid things that could easily be passed off at first. Of course he wasn’t the best fighter: he danced, but he had never really fought before being shot into space. Of course he didn’t know the most about technology: he was a strategist and a cargo-turned-fighter pilot, not a scientist or engineer or, or, or, or…
Lance remembered the exact moment he had finally faced the truth that he simply wasn’t good enough. As he sunk to the floor, he chuckled. Of course he remembered, the events of that exact day were imprinted in his brain. The thought of how useless he was almost overpowered the pain that clutched his stomach to the point of bad nausea.
Sure, Lance never trained outside of the group practices, sure, but… Lance couldn’t get past level eight, and the team was tired of him being pathetic and weak. Keith had flown off the handle, screaming at him. It hadn’t been pretty.
“You’re useless! You don’t even bother to get better, you just sit in your room playing stupid video games like we aren’t the literal only thing standing between the universe and Zarkon, and what, you think we can do this with just some practice and little effort? What are you even good at? You bring nothing to the table. Nothing.” Keith stared at Lance as though those words were his biggest regret, but Lance had only sighed and dug his hands deep into his pockets. It was a nervous habit, something he did whenever he had the intense urge to fidget.
“Lance, I’m so-” Lance cut him off with a single shake of his head. His eyes dragged themselves away from Keith’s deep purple eyes, the permanent red smudged beneath like makeup wiped hastily away and yet remaining faintly still. Surprise didn’t look good on him, his eyes wide in shock and regret, revealing the speckles of grey that were splattered through purple like shards of quicksilver.
Lance knew his own eyes looked like broken glass now: hollow, tired, and broken. He knew the deep lines underneath his eyes dug discolored bags deep into his face, the way his hooded sunk further and further into his skull with each day, already a skeleton, already dead.
“You’re right.” Lance had said simply. The familiar, shocked silence following his words gave him ample time to turn heel and leave. His hands shook, as he walked to his room in a near trance-like state.
fuck fuck fuck, why had he said that? what the fuck was the team going to do? What the fuck, why the fuck…
Lance pushed himself up, hand planted against the cold wall, fingers raw from clawing against that same cold metal. It was impersonal, and Lance hated it. He hated it all.
The knock sent another wave of nausea through his body, and his other hand clutched his stomach as he warded the urge to vomit off. They were going to kick him off the team. They had finally realized how useless he was and they were going to let him go.
Lance chuckled. ‘Let him go.’ Such a nice way to say ‘you’re useless and we don’t need you anymore’. And yet it was completely true. He took a deep, shuddering breath and stepped forward.
And he took another step. And another. His hand reached out, trembling, and came to rest on the door. He took another breath and steeled himself for the reality of what would happen next.
The door opened and Keith stood before him, eyes unsteady, lost. Lance stared at the other boy, confusion in his eyes. A heavy silence hung between them, and Lance was about to close the door on Keith’s face and break down again when the other boy began speaking.
“I… I didn’t know you felt that way.” Keith began, and Lance chuckled awkwardly and scratched his neck awkwardly.
“Not too many people do, I guess.” Lance replied quietly, and Keith’s eyes dropped to the ground.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I said those things. I… I don’t know how to talk properly and, well, I said stuff I shouldn’t have. I fucked up, and I was wrong. None of that stuff I said was true. Sure you play video games, but it’s probably to keep your mind off things, and I’m rambling now, but what I’m trying to say is that I don’t think you’re useless, and I’m sorry, and it doesn’t excuse what I said, but…” He trailed off, and their eyes met. Keith’s eyes were deep and uncertain for a moment before suddenly they were hugging. Lance tried his best to ignore the nausea, the knowledge Keith thinking he was good enough didn’t make it true, and the fact that this could have been to alleviate any feelings of guilt Keith harbored for saying the truth. Because it was the truth, but for now, Lance buried his head into Keith’s neck and hoped the Red Paladin wasn’t lying, because he wasn’t sure he could take it if he was.
Haha this isn’t that great. Sorry… But hey! Thanks for the prompt again!
So you guys wanted torture… And uhh… you definitely get it. Try not to get whiplash.
TW: Graphic depictions of violence, blood, gore, other
Shiro dragged Lance by the collar of his shirt towards the wall of the room. They were in a large, bland room in the castle, far from where the team generally explored, and as Lance struggled against Shiro’s iron- Lance chuckled at the pun- grip, he realized that the others would not be able to hear him screaming. So he didn’t. Instead, Lance pleaded.
“Shiro, I didn’t say anything! You have to believe me! I would never- Shiro, I wouldn’t tell her anything about Voltron.” Lance said, and Shiro snarled. It happened in seconds. Lance was slammed against the wall and his arm grabbed by Shiro’s human arm. Confusion filled Lance for only a second before his entire arm had exploded in pain. Pure. Unbridled. Pain. Lance could feel the reverberation of the metal steak Shiro had drove through Lance’s wrist as the Black Paladin drove it through his arm and into the wall behind him. A scream ripped out of Lance’s gut as he thrashed against the steak, only managing to dig it further into his wrist.
Before Lance could comprehend the pain that was ripping through his entire body like a burning hot wire being dragged up from his arm into his chest, Shiro had grabbed his other arm with the same level of efficiency and drove a second steak into Lance’s other arm.
Lance screamed, his legs giving out from the pain. The weight of his body against the steaks in his arm burned, and Lance whimpered as he pressed his shaky legs against the ground, Lance lifted himself up and looked up into Shiro’s dark eyes.
“Shiro please…” Lance whispered, his eyes dropping to the ground.
“I know you told her something. I know you’re weak. I want to know what.” Shiro snarled, and Lance shook his head.
“I didn’t tell her anything!” Lance shouted, his voice cracking in desperation. “I would never tell her anything!”
Shiro stalked forwards and grabbed Lance by the jaw, jerking his head up to look at Shiro in the eyes.
“You’re lying. You’re weak, and I know you told her something. I need to know what you told her so we can adjust to your weakness and her new knowledge.” Shiro murmured, his voice cold as he stared into Lance’s eyes.
“I swear I didn’t tell her anything.” Lance whispered, and Shiro snarled as he dropped Lance’s head and moved away. Lance didn’t look up as Shiro grabbed something off a table. The sound of something dragging across the floor lifted Lance’s eyes weakly, and immediately Lance was struggling against the steaks in his arms.
“Shiro, Shiro please, please you have to believe me! Shiro you have to-” Lance was cut off by the sledgehammer slamming into the wall right above his face. Lance’s entire body shook as his eyes lifted to look at the sledgehammer inches above him. He could feel sweat dripping off his face from the fear, and the silence that filled the room after the reverberations of the sledgehammer against the wall could be cut with a knife.
Shiro chuckled. “Bet you thought I’d do it.” He whispered, and Lance shook his head, ‘no’ falling from his mouth over and over, a sort of chant he prayed would keep Shiro from swinging again.
The Black Paladin smirked as he dislodged the sledgehammer from the wall and tossed it aside. Lance heaved a sigh of relief at the clang of the sledgehammer against the ground.
“Shiro, please. I would never tell her anything I pro-” Lance’s pleading was cut short by a guttural scream as Shiro slammed a meat tenderizer into Lance’s elbow.
Lance writhed as the pain clawed its way up his arm and through his entire body, encompassing him like a blanket of burning hot metal. Pain was the only thing Lance could feel, could comprehend.
Why? Why was this happening to him? He hadn’t told her anything. Why did Shiro think he had? Darkness was surrounding him through the pulsing of his elbow, the way he could feel the shards of decimated bone cutting through his skin, the way if he looked to his left he could see the horrifyingly deformed arm, the blood that was oozing out of his elbow from the spikes on the meat tenderizer.
Shiro stabbed a needle into his arm and suddenly everything was slammed into hyper-focus, ripping him out of the darkness. Tears leaked down Lance’s face as he cried from the pain, the way he could suddenly feel it so much more than before. Shiro grabbed him by the throat and slammed his head into the wall as he tied a rope around his neck. Lance choked as Shiro fastened the rope to the wall and moments later water began dropping into his face. Lance whimpered as he tried to move his head to look at Shiro, to look at the room.
With each movement of his head, the rope rubbed painfully against his neck, and he tried weakly to stay as still as possible. If he collapsed now, he would choke to death. Loud music began blasting into his ears and Lance closed his eyes and tried his best to close the water dripping into his face and the music from his mind.
Days, weeks, maybe moths had passed. Lance didn’t know. Pain was the only thing Lance knew now, pain searing deep into his brain. The water dropped irregularly down on him, and the music pulsed louder and quieter at random intervals. Sometimes, Allura or Shiro would enter, their eyes dark.
It was one of those times when Allura walked in, her dainty fingers selecting a long, thin knife, and Lance weakly protested.
“Please, Allura, please.” Lance whispered, and Allura smirked.
“You’re not smiling, Lance. You always smile, why don’t you smile for me.” Allura cooed, and Lance whimpered as he attempted to pull himself away from Allura.
The Blue Paladin lifted her blade and twirled it for a moment before grabbing his face and yanking his jaw open.
“Smile, Lance.” Allura snarled as she set the blade to his cheek.
-
Keith slammed his fists against the wall. “He’s gone. He’s gone.” Keith whispered over and over, tears falling from his eyes. It had been days since Lance had died, and yet Keith still expected him to be alive every time he walked into Lance’s room and the kitchen and the… No. He was dead.
“Keith, I’m sorry.” Shiro whispered as his hand ghosted over the shoulder of the previous Red Paladin.
“I still… I still think he’s going to burst into my room with some new bad pickup line. Or some new thing we need to do immediately.” Keith whispered. There was a void. A deep, gaping hole that Lance had filled- and now left. Lance was gone. Gone.
He hadn’t been able to do anything to stop it. He was useless. Keith was always useless.
Suddenly, Pidge exploded through the door and Keith whirled, eyes filled with confusion at Pidge’s out of breath, wild expression. Pidge gestured to her computer for a moment wildly, her eyes wide.
“Pidge, I don’t think this is the best time-” Shiro began, but Pidge shook her head, cutting him off with a wave of her hand.
“Guys, I didn’t think this was real, so double-”
“Triple” Hunk inserted. Pidge nodded before pausing again to catch her breath.
“Triple checked it, but… Lance was in his armor after he… Well… You know… But!” Pidge turned her computer to Keith and Shiro, who stared at the data.
“Lance died at approximately two in the afternoon, human time. This is the recording of his vitals that day…” Pidge trailed off, and Keith’s eyes widened.
“That… That can’t be true, right?” Keith whispered. “Because there’s no way he’s… he’s…”
“Alive.” Pidge finished, and the silence that filled the room was thick. “That’s what I thought. But then I checked. I checked a lot. I checked so many times that there’s no way it can be wrong.”
The breath of relief that almost dropped from Keith’s chest was short-lasting.
“That means… That means Haggar has Lance.” Keith whispered.
I really hope you guys are happy, because the FBI have probably flagged my computer.
