Dancey Lancey

Lance didn’t know a lot. He knew nothing about how to build a toaster or how wifi worked, nothing about chemistry and he only just got by with math. He wasn’t logically smart, he was more in tune with people and emotions. But even then, psychologist defiantly knew more than he did.

There was nothing Lance knew that no one else didn’t, especially seen as he told his twin sister everything, no matter how embarrassing.

Except…

Lance never wanted to acknowledge what happened when he was nine and his beloved dog Mitsy died. He didn’t want to believe that the man he saw was real, that his eyes didn’t lie about how the others were so inhuman. He remembered the man’s name only because he kept seeing him in nightmares, remembering his words everything something went wrong,

“Just call out and I’ll be there, I’ll give you anything you want. I’m sure you understand.”

Lance didn’t at first, and when he did he denied it and shoved it down as hard as he could.

But then Hunk got hit. Not just with anything, but a giant metal fist from an armoured Galra that broke his ribs so badly they shattered throughout his lungs and… he didn’t even have much time to gasp and feel fear before his heart bailed out.

Lance was clutching his face, begging him to come back, too scared to try CPR if it was broken ribs that out him there in the first place.

Pidge was screaming and sobbing.

Shiro was standing in shock.

Keith was still stabbing the Galrans face despite him being long gone.

The coms were silent.

“Just call my name…”

Would it even still work so far from earth?

“Anything you want.”

The chance of it being real was large, especially when Lance was also such an imaginative child and grief can distorted your reality.

“I’m sure you understand.”

Lance did. It was worth it, right? Surely anything was worth keeping someone like Hunk in the world? Even if what Lance thought was about to happen did happen, and what that could mean about other parts of the world, no Holy Ghost was as bright and warm as Hunk.

It was worth it, for Hunk.

Lance stopped crying and stood up, closing his eyes and forming his resolve.

“Crowley, I want to make a deal.”

Silence followed before a smooth voice spoke behind him, the sound of Pidge’s gasp and the feel of all their confusion not important as Crowley put a hand on his shoulder.

Lance was never human. Not fully, at least. His mother was and Lance would spend every single day of his life believing and knowing she was the most beautiful woman to ever exist. Not even Allura could change his mind about that.

It was Lances father that made him so special. For the first eight years of his life, Lance thought they were just every day folk, until him and his father we on a walk and got cornered by a dozen native wolves. The panic when his father got bit was what caused Lance’s body to shift and change, causing pain that caused such a horrific scream from him that the animals fled. His lower body twisted and snap, burn and rippled and stretched until it finally settled after a near full hour.

The whole time his father sat by him the entire time, holding his hand as it too bend around and telling him it was going to be okay and to not fight it.

Lance proceed his fathers change before his own. Where once he was a man, his father now had the lower body of a viper. Travelling several meters was a soft green scaled tail that twisted around to make a sort of bed for Lance to rest on. His face had shifted to be partially scaled, teeth turned to sharp fangs and eyes wide and slit.

Lance didn’t have time to be confused as fear set in when he saw that his body now mirrored his father.

His tail was so similar to his fathers, only darker and shorter. It twisted around like it was it’s own being, seperate from Lance but that wasn’t possible, as Lance was quickly forced to accept.

His mother helped him as he adjusted to his new life, holding him with all her love as he gradually got used to his body shifting and the pain lessened and lessened. It never fully left, but when he discovered that he could swim in the water like the mermaids he adored, he fought his way through it.

Then he met Hunk, his first real friend, and for the first time in his life he had to hide it from someone he cared about. Strangers didn’t matter to him, not when he knew what they would do to him, but a friend?

It only got worse when he went to space. He wanted so badly to tell everyone, to show what he was, but he couldn’t even blame his secrecy on his fear of rejection. It was the home sickness and the way no one else seemed to care enough about it to talk about it like he wished to. Having his natural form of a serpent was the only thing he seemed to be able to keep to himself without fear of it being brushed of.

He knew it was selfish, that his second form was dangerous and could be so useful for the war, but he wanted it to be his own. He didn’t want to be a weapon, a tool or pet, he was a person. It was hard enough being a soldier when he at most wanted to be a sniper or just a pilot.

Ocean waves or horizon : across one should and or arm, across back

Octopus : going up thigh or wrapped around bicep

Spine bone: across spine (obviously) (reasoning: Someone once called him spineless, maybe a teammate, so he got one tattooed as a way to be like ‘fuck you whats this then’)

Heart: a little heart shape on his thumb for his mother, maybe with her initials in it

Fool tarrot card or jester: for he is the fool and the role of the fool is to fill those around him, though maybe he doesn’t realise that when he gets it.

“Give me breed and call me a fool.” A Spanish saying meaning it doesn’t matter what others think of you if you’re still getting what you want.

Bullets raining down/gun fire : across shoulder going down

Tear drop: maybe for blue or it was just a stick and poke he did himself when thinking about his loneliness

Voltron symbol : blue behind back, ear or ankle or all lion colours in respective places

Sunflower: maybe it reminds him of his mum or his home in Cuba

“Al Mal Tiempo, Buena cara.” Translated: “when the going gets tough, the tough get going” : maybe along his ribs or over his heart

Half a butterfly: for his twin, with her having the opposing half, maybe on his wrist or forearm so they can line them up

A target or cross hair: for his sniping love and skills, maybe on his tiger finger or over his heart

A little orange heart: for Coran, probably on his wrist so he can see it easily

Any kind of flower for the Frida Kahlo quote “I paint flowers so they will not die”

The Hagar learnt a new trick. She had always been able to shape-shift and see into peoples minds, but the day she decided to put those things together was the day they nearly lost Lance.

Allura had broken down at the sight of her father, but the team managed to convince her it was an illusion and they got through it. They all struggled to accept that the Matt they saw was a lie and move away from the Adam that promised to take care of them all. Hunk had held strong the most, facing down the lying image of his father with ease, saying he knew his father in his heart and gut, that he could recognise his family with his eyes gauged out and ears ringing.

But then the Hagar started laughing, a wicked crooked laugh that sounded like how bugs crawling on your skin felt. They all listened, trying to find her through the foggy landscape of the planet they were on. They listened as her voice turned cruel in another way, more masculine and mocking.

The man that steps through the shadows is tall and confident, standing straight with his hands clasped in-front of him. His dark skin and human body instantly tells them who this is meant for. Lance is clearly going stiff, gun lowering and eyes watering. They all hear the weak and whimpered “papa?” That spills from his mouth.

Hunk goes to comfort him, to remind him that this isn’t his papa, that he’s waiting for him on earth, but the Hagar cuts him off with another’s voice,

“Lance, my son. Hundreds of generations we have spent together as a family, doing what is right and required and yet you… you disappoint me.”

Shiro tries to go to Lance but is held back by the Hagars henchmen, Lance too busy trying to stay standing to even notice his team being capacitated.

She continues as Lance openly cries, lowering his head and clenching his fist like a upset child, “We have protected, we have grown, we have planted the seeds that have kept our village as bright and vibrant as it should be. I knew, as soon as you were born, that you would fail. You have always been weak, too much like your mother. The amounts of times you ran away but came crawling back, sobbing and whining about being “so sorry mama”. Pathetic.”

Lance let’s put a sob and falls to his knees, the Hagar walks over and grips his chin, lifting him up and bruising his jaw, “why do you think I beat you? Why I made you fight for you dinner? Train day and night to use that weapon you hold so dear? You have always been the weakest of our family. Like a little girl, hiding behind your Abuela’s skirt. You were never going to take over the family business, you were never going to be my heir.”

A harsh slap sounds throughout the area, silencing the others struggles.

The Hagar grins, somehow it fits the face she wears even though it’s clearly her smile, “I should have let my men continue rape you. Maybe it would have given you an actual purpose in my company. Alas, you are a waste of my money and time. Inservible. My beloved must be so happy to not have to deal with our most pathetic child.”

If she hadn’t have mentioned his mother, if she hadn’t have said that his father loved her, maybe she would have succeed. But the one thing Lance kept hold of was his love for his mother, love he devoted to her because his father wouldn’t.

If she didn’t, maybe Lance would have given in and not stabbed her through her throat with a Ropera.

Before Voltron, before the Garrison, even before Hunk, Lance lived a dangerous life. His mother was a kind woman who worked as a manager of a appliance company, his father a butcher at the local shop. His sisters were all in school and his brother was working at the docks. His aunt was a photographer and her husband stayed at home with the kids.

None of these things or people made his life the way it was. It was Javier, his aunts ex husband who was a crooked man with too much venom to keep tucked behind his teeth. He had run into Lance when he was eight and walking home in the hot sun of Cuba. Javier was kind to Lance, letting him rant about his passions, willingly straining to listen when his sisters would be so much louder.

It was because of this very reason that Lance did the first favour his former uncle asked. It was just to distract a shop keeper while his uncles American friends bagged some of the lotto tickets boxed behind the counter, waiting to be sorted into sale.

Maybe it was the thrill of the ensuing chase, the pride in being able to get away safely, or even the money Javier gave him for a job well done. But Lance knew deep down that it was the way his uncle told him he was important, actually necessary, to competing the task. He wasn’t just wanted, he was needed and without him they wouldn’t have been able to sell the tickets for a pretty penny.

Lance was quick to take the role of a decoy, as long as Javier would continue giving him praise and sweets and hundred dollar notes as reward. He distracted cops, shop owners, even a rich man who made the mistake of flaunting his money around while the older men smashed into his car. He ignored the fear in his heart the first time he saw Javier beat a man down to the ground, opening his jaw onto the curb and stomping. His uncle said the man was bad, Lance believed him.

By the time he was twelve, Javier and his crew, who worked for a man Lance was never allowed to meet, had taught him a number of tricks in order to steal anything and escape from anyone. He was quick and small, lean but strong enough to lift his own body weight. His body was covered in a few scars from close calls when jumping fences and shattered glass, but it was easy to hide it from his mother.

It was at this age when he first got deep into the violence of the crime he had found himself it.

Lance had been told to break into a man’s house while they distracted him with a broken down car out front, something they had done several times. Only, this man was prepared. He had caught on quick and Javier had chosen to bolt instead of warning Lance, something he’d done before, so when the man came into the house and saw Lance arm deep in his safe, he didn’t bother asking questions.

Lance had fought like his life was already over, throwing everything he had into kicking the other man off him. Just as the man hit his face again, adding a broken eye socket to his mangled jaw, Lance managed to take his legs out.

The man fell hard.

So hard his head cracked open and Lance, not realising what this meant, kept kicking at him until he managed to escape and run back to their hideout.

Lance thought of the news report stating the man’s death and the faces of his two children sobbing about their beloved dad who had been saving money to get a proper gravestone for their mother every. Single. Day. He didn’t let himself forget that his first life taken was a good one, a faithful one, a kind one.

He kept going, now with the knowledge that anyone could take a life and that the world was deadlier than he once believed. He kept a blade on him at all times, ready to fight, or to die pointlessly like that man. He kept stealing, robbing, lying, deceiving, but now Lance was willing to harm others to get what he was told.

Taking a life taught him the fragility of it, but also the need.

He remembered the day he told his uncle he was going to the Garrison, that he was going to use his skills for good despite spending the previous years being so cruel. Javier’s response stayed with him even as he entered war,

He had been remembering learning the guerrilla warfare in classes just in case their small little piece of safety in Cuba was taken away. He remembers playing hide and seek with his uncle when his brother was getting a risky operation to fix his broke leg. He had been hiding in the trees and bushes like he was taught, but caught eye of something grey and concrete like in the distance.

Being a curious child with little understanding of the world he was in, he walked right over and found a bunker of some kind. Upon stepping a few feet inside was picked up by an unknown man who started yelling at him and choking him from behind. It was the training he had thought was simply for fun that saved him, giving him the insight to check for a weapon of some kind on the man’s person. He used the knife to stab the man’s stomach only to fall on the floor and hurt his side. When another three men enter the room with guns, he uses instinct and grabs a metal rod by his side and lunges forward, stabbing he man upwards in his chest. Several shots ring out and kill the other men. When Lance turned around, he found an vaguely familiar face greeting him with a calm posture but wild eyes. The man got him away and took care of the bruise on his hip.

“What is your name?”

“Cordaro Desiderio McClain.”

“That name doesn’t fit you!”

“Hey! My mama named me! My second name was my papa’s name!”

“Well she was wrong. You need stronger name, braver. Better meaning. Hmmm, you killed that man by stabbing him upwards with a long pole-AH! That’s it! Lance! You thrust and twist and kill like a lance!”

“But why? I like my name.”

“Yes but little cub, that was you before. Before you took a life, you of past. He is gone and you must not hold onto him. Now you have changed and so too must your name.”

“Then… what’s your name?”

Lance knows Lotor wanted to control him and played his part well, acting stupid and naive or like a cock hungry whore who just wanted to fuck and suck till he dropped.

Lance knows wanted to manipulate him from the start, that’s why he went to Blue to see if Allura was comparable with her. Why he went to Coran the night he left and told him what he was doing, to stay quiet and wait for transmissions.

He spent years collecting information, sending it to Voltron and the coalition, pouting and acting the child when Lotors team accused him of being a traitor.

Lance made Lotor depend on him, made him fall in love, made him forget his true mission and only want Lance. He used aphrodisiacs, his body and his wit, all of it to his advantage.