Langst One-Shots

I Am Who I Am (part one)

Trans!Lance based on the request by ghost1643

TW: talks about periods and dysphoria, don't read if that'll make you dysphoric

1. This will be a two parter (sorry!)

2. I realize I freaked out a little too much about the Net Neutrality thing, and while I'm still nervous about where this could be going, it won't be all bad, at least not forever. It won't necessarily be a permanent change (at least not for me, I'm 100% confident I'll be on Wattpad for years to come). Thank you guys for all the phone numbers and discord tags, I'm really excited to get to know you guys, even if I don't have to leave Wattpad for long.

Now, on to the story!

Lance looked around for one of his pads, biting his lip. Had he run out? He didn't go anywhere without at least one, so he had a few when they came up. Then he had secretly raided Allura's stash, thanking whatever God was out there that aliens also had periods.

He started to panic, however, when he found that he had run out. It'll be okay. He told himself. You can just ask Allura or Pidge. He forced a smile onto his face and clenched his legs together awkwardly. He pressed a button and the door to his room slid open, revealing the brightly lit hallway. He took a deep breath and began to walk as quickly as he could down to Allura's room.

He started having second thoughts about halfway down. Maybe she would hate him. Maybe Alteans had different customs and she would never talk to Lance again. Maybe she would think it was unnatural, that he was some sort of abomination.

The thoughts got louder as he neared her room, and his hand hovered in front of it, ready to knock. He took a deep breath, moved a step closer, and then jogged back to his room. Nope, nope, nope. Not today. He sat down on his bed, sighing and breathing heavily.

"Paladins, get to your lions, now!" Allura's voice crackled to life in the castle's speakers, sounding frazzled and on edge. Lance jumped up and pulled his armor off the wall and onto his body, wincing at the uncomfortable tightness of the bodysuit. He ran down to the Blue Lion's hangar, ignoring the ziplines and mini speeder things. This was probably a speed test, so he focused on being fast.

His speed test theory was disproved as the castle shook from an attack. His eyes widened, but he kept running. It wouldn't be that hard to battle, right?

Right. Yeah, it wouldn't be hard. Lance smiled confidently as he soared out into space, ignoring the awkward feeling in his lower abdomen.

"Alright, we don't know how, but Lotor found us," Shiro's solemn voice came to life in his ears. "We need to protect the castle long enough for Allura to make at least a three-galaxy jump."

"Got it," Keith said, swerving in front of Lance to fire at Lotor's ship. It was a large ship, almost exactly like the other ships in the galra arsenal, but it was longer and sleeker, with some sort of armor. Keith's shot hardly made a dent.

"Uh, are you sure? That doesn't look like you 'got it,'" the blue paladin raised an eyebrow. Keith glared at him.

"Like you could do better, princess," he sneered. Lance gulped, pressing down the horrible feeling in his chest.

He doesn't mean it. He doesn't know. Lance took a deep breath.

"Yeah, well, you're on!" he snapped, much to Shiro's dismay.

"Please, Lance, focus," the leader looked worried enough as it was, and clearly didn't need any shenanigans to make the situation worse. Lance bit his lip and kept silent per Shiro's wishes.

Lotor's ship fired at the Lions, only hitting Hunk. The yellow paladin yelped, but didn't appear to be injused.

"Form Voltron!" Shiro yelled, and all the Lions flew together in formation, locking into each other to form the huge warrior.

"Sword, now!" Hunk panicked as the galra prince's ship fired again. Keith growled as he slammed his Bayard into the receiver. The red and green lions converged and pulled apart, with the red lion now holding a long blade in its mouth.

Voltron swung at the ship but ended up doing a bit of a backflip as the sword bounced off of the ships force field.

Then, the next thing Lance knew, he was floating in his lion. All was silent, and then all was dark.

°•°

"...usting creature, isn't it?" a high, cold female voice was the first thing he heard. Something about it seemed wrong, off, evil.

"Yes, quite disgusting. Not to mention weak," Lotor said. A chill went down Lance's spine, and he squeezed his eyes shut. How and why was Lotor here?!

Lance tried to stifle the small groan escaping his lips. It felt like his lower abdomen was being stabbed all over with a million knives, and then he remembered:

Aw, shit.

"Awake, then?" Lotor's voice was closer now, right above him even. The blue paladin cracked his eyes open and saw Lotor's cold gaze. "Yes, I thought so," he clearly wasn't speaking to Lance. He seemed to scoff at him, as if the mere sight of a human being was laughable.

"Sire, the scans are showing that it is a female," the voice (which Lance could now see was coming from a druid) droned.

"I'm not!" Lance yelped. "I, I'm a guy."

"Hmph," the druid scoffed at him the same way Lotor had. "No tricks, paladin."

"It's not a trick!" If Lance was going to be captured and tortured, he was going to defend the two things he could - his team and his gender.

"Take her to the interrogation room," the druid commanded dryly. Lance cringed at the pronoun but said nothing. A group of three masked druids stepped into the light of the room and began levitating the table Lance was strapped to.

An uncertain dread filled his chest, but all he could do was wait.

°•°

Torture + cramps = living hell.

That was pretty much all Lance had learned in his few hours with the galra (though he was guessing by the sudden progression of his flow and by the uncomfortable situation in his flight suit that he had been unconscious for several days - it would certainly explain the massive headache and bouts of dizziness).

He started by casually insulting the druids, then roasting them, and finally he progressed to an old-school cuss-out session. Eventually he had gone silent, as his outbursts made the pink lightning hurt more, and he was in enough pain without the torture.

"Give her a night's rest," the first druid said after three hours of hell. "She will be more willing to answer in the morning, I'm sure."

A twisted grin was on her ugly, purple face, and Lance figured that whatever she mean by "a night's rest" was not what he thought of from the phrase.

He had good reason to be wary. The druids threw him in a cell with eight blaring lights - two on each wall. They shone on him, making the small space seem somehow smaller.

It was then that he felt his weakest. How had everything gone to shit so quickly? Only days ago, he had a handle on his life. Sure, it was a weird space life, but he had a handle on it.

Now, he was in Lotor's, the Lotor's ship. Not only that, but he was on the worst part of his period. His face contorted in pain as he was stabbed over and over, though when he looked down, he saw no knives, just blood.

Blood pooling on the floor. His blood, pooling on the floor. He scooted away from it, trying his hardest to look away, but the blinding lights glared mercilessly at him from all angles.

When would his team come for him? Or, a better question:

Would his team come for him?