Langst: One Shots

Revenge.

My trash ass used Heathers references ayyyyye. Lovr my boy JD.
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TW: Literally they all die.
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Several years in space and there was not a single change. None at all.

Lance felt from the moment they were blasted into the adventure that became a nightmare that was his life, he was little and insignificant and not useful in the fight against the Galra.

He was never included in plans, and he always was given the small, easy tasks as far as missions came. If Lance was doing something important, which was not a lot of the time, it was because he disobeyed orders to actually help or have an impact.

It was always after these missions that he faced Allura and Shiro’s wrath, and Keith’s input.

Pidge was occasionally vocal about Lance’s mistakes, but it was mostly when he irritated her.

Hunk, however, never really vocalized what Lance assumed was his disappointment in the blue paladin. There were sad looks, or broken eye contact, and sometimes that felt worse than getting yelled at for mistakes.

The yellow Paladin was the Cuban’s best friend… or at least he used to be.

Things were just getting incredibly tiring for the man, and he wasn’t sure how much he could take. Being everyone’s last thought, their first to blame, a verbal punching bag. He was tired.

It was as simple as that.

“Ah, blue paladin, welcome.” Lotor hummed.

Yeah. That’s where Lance stood now. Just him and the Galran prince himself.

Lance had made his decision a few days prior, when they had first encountered Lotor.

‘Give me the blue paladin, and Voltron will have no troubles.’ That was his request.

Of course, the masks came up on his ‘friends’ and they insisted Lance was theirs.

Lance scoffed thinking about it now. Yeah, their toy. Their slave of hatred.

So Lance left late last night, out in a pod, and stood here now in front of Lotor.

“Have you agreed to my terms? Where are the other members of Voltron?”

Lance rubbed his eyes, looking indifferent. “It’s just me. No one else knows I’m here.”

A twinkle sparked in Lotor’s eyes, “Good. Now, my first order for you will—”

“I have one condition.” Lance explained, and continued when Lotor rose an eyebrow, “Quintessence. Whatever it is. I don’t…” The boy sighed, “I want my revenge. But I don’t want to be myself.”

Lotor grinned devilishly, “Of course. You want revenge for their disrespect, the pain they caused. You know, I myself feel the same why. This is why I’m going against my father.”

Lance swallowed, furrowing his brows. He didn’t want to be compared to the prince. He just wanted to forget and take his revenge as he could never forgive his team. He wanted to, but how could he?

The Cuban was just pushed way too passed his limit and he couldn’t care what happened to him. It was as simple as that. It was like suicide…not exactly physical, but suicide of his mentality.

Whatever happened now, as Lotor led him back through halls and to an oddly all-white room, would be entirely someone else. But Voltron would no later, he was not someone.