Chapter Text
Things had been slightly off ever since Shiro escaped the Galra. They had been really off ever since Keith left the team.
At least, that’s what Lance thought.
Apparently, the others didn’t think so; That, or they didn’t care. Lance didn’t know which was more concerning. Because something was wrong with Shiro, and nobody understood what.
At first, Lance thought he was just recovering from being captured by the Galra again. It must have been a traumatic experience, Lance rationalized. It seemed normal that Shiro was a bit stunted when he came back.
But as time went on, Lance slowly realized that Shiro hadn’t been getting better. If anything, he’d been getting worse.
When Lotor showed up, it was like everything else took a nose dive. Lance hated to think about it, because all things considered, Lotor’s working with them had helped millions of people across the universe. It made Lance feel bitter and guilty to hate the man who was helping them bring peace to the universe. But ever since Lotor joined them, it was like the team was falling apart.
Which obviously wasn’t true. Nobody was mad at each other. They all still talked and strategized together. They were all still friends, but the more Lotor hung around, the more they drifted. It always felt like the team had more important things to do. Nobody was focused on the collective connection of the team or the individual feelings of each other.
Lance was guilty of this too, of course. When Shiro called to him in the consciousness of the lions, he had no idea what he was trying to say. It made Lance hate himself. Of course, he couldn’t hear Shiro, but Lance had not even the tiniest clue of what he could’ve been trying to tell him. It was after that fiasco that Lance started looking closer at Shiro. At everyone, really.
Because that’s when he realized it. Nobody was paying attention. Pidge and Hunk were focused on all the technical stuff that the rebellion needed, Allura was too enthralled with Lotor to notice anything wrong, and Lance had been too preoccupied with worrying about Allura and Lotor’s budding relationship.
None of them realized that there was something wrong. They were worried after Shiro started getting aggressive with Lance and the others, even angry when Shiro started taking Lotor’s side over theirs, but once everything had worked itself out, it was as if nothing had even happened.
Everyone was acting the way they acted when Voltron was first formed. As if everything was ok, besides the looming threat of universal war and conquest. But everything wasn’t ok. Keith was gone, Lotor was on their side, and Shiro was…off.
He felt like a completely different person. The yelling, ignoring the team, working behind their backs—it was all very un-Shiro-like. And only now did Lance start really zoning in on it.
A few days ago he had asked Pidge and Hunk about it.
“I mean, he’s probably just more focused than ever on bringing peace to the universe. Getting captured by the Galra a second time must’ve really spooked him,” Hunk had said. It made sense, he thought the same thing at first after all , but Lance just couldn’t seem to agree with it anymore.
Why would Shiro be more focused the second time he got captured? Was he holding back his anger, his resentment, for the Galra when it happened the first time? No, Shiro was just as focused as before, but now, he was going about it completely differently. He was starting to justify the means, whatever they were.
“I think you’re overexaggerating Lance. It’s not like he’s that different, he’s just taking things more seriously,” Pidge had remarked. Lance could remember his mouth thinning into a line when he heard that. It felt like Pidge had had a sort of bias for Shiro, ever since he helped her get her dad back. Almost like how Keith did. The difference was Keith never had to justify any bad behavior from Shiro, because Keith had a bias for the old Shiro. The one that didn’t go behind his team’s back.
“Ya, I guess,” was how Lance ended the conversation before he walked away. He remembered Hunk frowning a bit before he turned to leave, but he didn’t want to stay there as his two friends continued to downplay his worries.
Lance knew something was wrong. And he wasn't going to let anyone convince him otherwise.
So he started watching Shiro. Watching him at meetings, during meals, when he was training. It wasn't like stalker watching; he was very discreet with it, only really keeping his eyes on Shiro when he didn't need to turn his head to see him, or watching him when he was talking in the meetings like everyone else. Lance was basically indistinguishable from the others as he spied on Shiro.
At least, that's what Lance had thought. And he was half right. Shiro didn't notice Lance keeping watch of the black paladin, but Haggar did.
Every time Lance’s eyes moved to Shiro’s face, she saw. Every time Lance sat down across from Shiro at dinner and looked at the leader’s hands as he ate, she saw. Every time Lance listened intently to Shiro’s plans at the meetings, as if waiting for him to say something wrong–Haggar saw all of it.
Lance was walking too close to the edge. It was only a matter of time before he convinced the other paladins that something was wrong. Haggar couldn't have that. She had done so much work, so much planning. To have it all flushed down the toilet because of Voltron’s idiot? She wouldn’t stand for it.
No, she had to do something. Something that would make sure Lance never snooped around again.
Haggar didn't like taking possession of her clone. She had strayed away from it thus far, only giving the clone small, subconscious pushes in the right direction. She hadn't taken full control over him yet, and she hadn't been planning to unless everything went wrong. Possessing “Shiro” would only make the paladins more wary of him, and it would ruin all she’d done to get the others to trust him.
But this was an exception. The red paladin already knew something was amiss, and Haggar doubted he’d be dropping the theory any time soon. Possessing the clone, albeit not ideal, wouldn't do much to change what Lance was already thinking. Rather, Haggar would use it all to her advantage.
Yes. Taking control of her clone, Haggar would make sure to keep Lance quiet. And she knew the perfect way to do it, even if it meant outing her plans to him and him alone.
XxX
Lance walked down the hallway to his room sluggishly, yawning into his palm as he got to his bedroom door. The day had been a lot more tiring than usual. Two diplomatic meetings, a three hour non-stop training session, and an hour of strategizing for tomorrow’s upcoming mission had nearly knocked Lance out.
As his door to the dark room slid open, Lance walked up to his bed and began taking off his jacket, too tired to turn the lights on first. As he took the article of clothing off, however, he noticed a distinct lack of sound–the sound that the door made when it slid shut.
With his jacket over his right arm, Lance turned around in confusion. Seeing Shiro standing in the doorway with his metal arm holding the door back nearly made his heart drop.
A few seconds of the two paladins silently staring at each other passed, before Lance roughly reminded himself to keep his worries private.
“Hey Shiro,” Lance managed to get out in his usual, carefree voice, “Whats up? Did you need anything?” he asked with a gentle smile. Lance was good at pretending everything was alright. He could do this.
Shiro continued staring at Lance a little while longer, before retuning his smile.
“No, not really,” Shiro insisted. He took a small breath, “I just wanted to ask you something, if you didn’t mind.”
Lance cocked an eyebrow, his curiosity surpassing his worry, “Oh, sure. Shoot,” he told Shiro.
The black paladin’s smile turned slightly more menacing.
“Why are you telling the team there’s something wrong with me?”
Lance could’ve swore he felt the wind get knocked out of him. He stood, wide eyed, looking at Shiro for a few moments. Did Pidge really tell him about that? Or Hunk? He couldn’t really blame them, its not like he told them to keep it a secret. But still, the revelation hurt.
“I-I…” He began to reply, stuttering as he tried to come up with something on the spot, “I was just asking Pidge and Hunk if they noticed anything.”
Lance could already feel the blood rushing to his cheeks as the embarrassment was somehow worse than the fear. He suddenly became much more aware of how hot he was under his shirt, and how sweaty his palms were. Lance sighed, trying to come up with a fake, yet believable, excuse.
“I just wanted to make sure you were ok,” is what he managed to say, “Y’know, after the whole Galra thing happened again.”
Shiro continued looking at the boy, who was putting on his best ‘concerned’ face.
“I’m fine,” Shiro said curtly, no longer smiling.
Lance laughed nervously, “Well, alright then,” He blurted, “Thats all I really wanted to know.”
“Is it?” Shiro asked, saying the phrase as if he didn’t believe the red paladin.
Lance swallowed, trying to gain his composure.
“Ya,” He waved Shiro off, “You don’t have to worry about-“ Lance continued with a small, reassuring smile, but was quickly cut off.
“Keeping you in line?” Shiro’s voice dipped low.
Lance stared at the black paladin, eyebrows slowly scrunching together as his smile wavered slightly.
“Uh…” Lance quickly upturned his lips, though, bringing back the carefree smile on his face in order to keep up the facade, “Ya…sure,” he finished, not knowing how to respond to his leader.
Lance continued looking at Shiro, waiting for him to say or do anything. After a beat of silence, Shiro squinted his eyes and began slowly walking towards the now disturbed boy. The door behind him closed swiftly as it made the light from the hallway suddenly disappear, darkening the room.
Lance’s smile dropped as he started backing up slowly, until the backs of his legs hit his bed. Lance turned to look to see what stopped him as quickly as he could.
The second Lance turned his head to look behind him, Shiro dropped his slow stride and bolted forward. At the sound of aggressive footsteps, Lance shot his head back to where Shiro was coming from, dropping his jacket in surprise. Before he could do anything to move out of the way, Shiro grabbed both of Lance’s arms and pushed the boy onto the bed behind him. Shiro held both Lance’s arms above his head, his fingers hitting the wall that the bed was pushed up against. Lance’s body, in turn, was being held down on the bed by Shiro’s strong grip.
Lance’s body from his waist up was lying on the bed, as his hips and downward were hanging off it, his feet bracing against the floor.
Shiro’s upper half was directly parallel to Lance’s. His gaze was pointed down at Lance as the black paladin stood, bent over nearly 90 degrees, straddling the boy’s hips and legs.
Lance stared up at Shiro, breathing heavily in fear and confusion. Lance didn't know what was happening. He tried to think, tried to come up with any reason as to why Shiro was on top of him, holding him down against his bed.
As Lance continued to think, though, Shiro’s eyes caught his attention. He squinted, trying to get a better view.
Because Lance could've sworn Shiro’s pupils looked purple.
Lance’s own eyes widened, as a confused horror hit him.
“Shiro,” Lance choked out, “Shiro, snap out of it,” Something was wrong with Shiro, and it was much worse than anything Lance thought. He was being controlled, or blackmailed, or something. Because Lance knew, no matter how different Shiro had become, he'd never do something like this.
“This isn't you. Something’s not right,” Lance begged, still staring into the eyes of his leader as he prayed Shiro was still somewhere in there, “Shiro, please, what’s wrong?”
“Shiro isn't home,” The being above Lance spoke in a layered growl. Lance’s whole body stilled at the voice before he forced his breathing to slow down and furrowed his eyebrows in anger.
“Who are you?” Lance demanded, “What have you done to Shiro?!” He snarled as he lifted his torso and head as close to ‘Shiro’ as he could, his arms still being held down by the black paladin.
The puppet leaning over Lance did not move, instead tightening it’s grip on the boy. Lance closed his eyes tightly and clenched his teeth as his wrists were slowly being crushed. He grunted in pain before the body above him stopped squeezing, but the grip on Lance’s arms didn’t revert to normal. Lance forced himself to hold back tears as it felt like he was losing circulation to his hands.
“Did you think any of them would believe you?” A voice pierced through Lance’s swirling mind. The younger paladin opened one eye to look towards the sound. What he saw was Shiro, or whatever was using Shiro’s body, snarling down at him.
“I was hoping you would let it go. That you would come to your senses and go back to being the deplorable nobody everyone here thinks you are,” Shiro’s body spit aggressively, making Lance flinch at each insult, “but no, you just had to be the hero.”
Lance frowned hard, closing his previously open eye. He took a few deep breaths before he looked back to Shiro again.
“So you’re gonna kill me?” Lance questioned with animosity outlining his features. He could almost feel himself getting a headache the longer he kept his eyebrows furrowed and teeth bared.
At the question, Shiro squinted his eyes, “I would rather not,” he said with a surprising lack of disdain, before straightening his neck and lifting his head upward slightly, all without losing eye contact with Lance.
“Without you, Voltron would no longer be able to form,” Shiro explained, “Despite your expendable nature, I would rather have you as the red paladin, over the Galran half-breed,”
The comment about him being expendable hurt, especially coming from Shiro’s mouth. But Lance was more focused on what was said first. That the thing taking over Shiro’s body needed Voltron. And it needed it soon. Lance wondered for what.
“Then what?” Lance hissed, trying to get a straight answer, “Are you just gonna blackmail me? Beat me up and threaten to actually kill me if I say anything?”
The man lowered his head back down to Lance.
“That is part of it,” Shiro spoke, head now close enough to Lance’s that the young boy could almost feel his breath, “But I have already said I don’t intend to kill you, although I will as a last resort…”
“…rather, I want to keep you quiet.”
“Well then you’ll have to kill me,” Lance spat ferociously “Because I’m gonna tell the others everything, no matter what you do,” he growled at the man above him.
“I expected as much,” Shiro replied nonchalantly, “and I am sure they would believe you if they saw any injuries inflicted from a beating, as you are suspecting I will do,” he reasoned.
“So I will just give you injuries that are invisible to the naked eye,” Shiro explained with a face even Lance couldn’t read, “I will make it so the others can’t believe you,” he hissed at the boy “and I will do this again if you disobey my gag order.”
::
Quickly, the older man brought Lance’s arms together into his right hand. His left hand, meanwhile, drifted to Lance’s pants, roughly grabbing his waistband and yanking it down aggressively.
Lance’s eyes widened as he slipped into a silent state of surprise, his mind unable to process what was happening. Before Lance could rip himself out of his distress, his pants were pulled down to his ankles and a hand was placed on his boxers. The second Lance felt the cold fingers brush against the skin of his pubic area, he began shaking vigorously, attempting to throw Shiro’s body off of him.
“No!” Lance shouted as he clenched his eyes shut in fear and tried to wriggle free, not fully believing what was happening, “Stop!”
Shiro didn’t stop, instead swiftly pulling Lance’s boxers down to his knees, letting gravity take them down to the ground around his ankles where his pants lay.
Lance gasped in abject horror as his eyes shot open. He looked down to where he could feel air hitting him, barely able to comprehend what Shiro had just done.
When Lance’s brain caught up to him, he shrieked.
“Help! Someone please!” Lance yelled as loud as he possibly could. It wasn’t too late, and the paladins’ rooms weren’t exactly soundproof. If there was any chance Lance could make this violation stop, he would take it.
Maybe ’Shiro‘ could fool everyone else with lies or deceit, but even the other paladins wouldn’t be able to deny what they saw with their own eyes. If Lance was able to make enough noise to get someone to check on him, he’d be safe. On top of that, he’d also have pretty good evidence for there being something wrong with Shiro. Maybe, with the help of the others, they’d be able to bring the real Shiro back. Wherever he was.
So Lance screamed. He begged for help at the top of his lungs, ignoring the pain he felt in his throat.
“Help—!“ Lance yelled one last time, before he felt something crash into his lips. His pleas were quickly silenced at the forceful obstruction.
Lance felt like he was going to puke when he realized it was Shiro’s lips that were stopping his cries for help.
Lance screamed into the other man’s mouth, jerking his head to try and get free so that he could continue yelling for help.
Shiro bit Lance’s upper lip hard, trying to keep the boy’s mouth covered while also attempting to stop his head jerks.
Lance whined at the pain, which was muffled by the foreign lower lip that was now submerged in his mouth.
Shiro’s left hand, meanwhile, moved to the man’s own pants and unzipped his zipper. He then tugged down his underwear and yanked himself out, not bothering to fully pull down his pants.
Lance tried to look down at the sounds he was hearing, but Shiro’s head was covering his field of view.
Lance didn’t have to look to understand what was about to happen next, as he felt Shiro’s thighs push his own further apart. Despite Lance’s attempts to keep his legs together, Shiro’s legs were just too strong to move.
Shiro’s mouth was quickly replaced with two fingers that went down Lance’s throat. The boy choked hard on the digits, as he gagged once. The fingers remained, and Lance gagged a second time, feeling ready to puke if Shiro didn’t remove his hand. Shiro removed the fingers right before Lance vomited, going right back to kissing the paladin when he did.
Shiro rubbed the saliva on his member, using any lube he could so that the intrusion wouldn’t be too difficult for him.
Lance sucked in a gasp as something wet began poking his underside. Tears finally began flowing down Lance’s face, the young boy hyperventilating into Shiro’s mouth.
“Please, help,” Lance begged in his mind, unable to speak aloud. No one answered.
Lance felt every second of the slow, agonizing push. He screeched in pain, his voice being covered by Shiro’s mouth.
Lance felt his body moving on its own, doing everything it could to get out of the painful and disgusting situation. But nothing worked. All of the black paladin’s weight was focused on keeping Lance down. Shiro’s arm was too strong, and his body was too heavy.
When the tip of Shiro’s member had made it in, the older paladin removed his lips from Lance’s, and covered the younger paladin’s mouth with his left hand. The hand that had previously guided him into Lance.
“I guess he was sick of the kissing,” Lance acknowledged subconsciously, his eyes beginning to glaze over in shock as his body slowly stopped fighting.
The dulled pain only lasted a few seconds, though, before Shiro began pushing further into Lance.
Lance’s heavy eyelids shot open wide at the action as his loud scream was covered by Shiro’s hand.
Lance didn’t stop screaming under the man’s flesh until Shiro was completely in him. The black paladin stopped for a moment, and Lance took the time to breathe readily through his nose at the pause. His eyes were closed as tight as possible, tears now soaking his reddened cheeks.
When Shiro started moving, Lance’s eyes widened so hard his forehead began aching, as he opened his mouth to let out a piercing cry. But no sound came out; not even a muffle under Shiro’s palm.
It felt like he was being stabbed. Like he was being torn apart slowly and methodically. The ache was horrible, but the burn was unbearable.
His legs shook involuntarily, jerking and tensing so hard that a muscle spasm shot up his right calf. Lance could barely even feel it.
As the assault continued, Lance lost more and more of his will to fight. Partly from the pain and tiredness, partly from the mental stress and revulsion of the situation.
He could feel his stomach start to turn as the pain persisted. Sweat beads began developing rapidly on his head, and with each painful thrust, Lance felt sicker and sicker. Feeling extremely hot and breathing in unevenly through his nose, Lance tried to turn his head in preparation.
Shiro tightened his hand on Lance’s jaw and cheeks and turned the boy’s head forward again. Lance looked to the man in confusion and pleaded with his eyes. He didn’t want to die here. Not like this. Not by choking on his own vomit whilst getting raped.
A wave of intense nausea hit him as he clenched his eyes tightly in discomfort. He gagged loudly, and Shiro finally took his hand away as Lance bent his neck to the side and threw up his dinner. The vomit had come up so violently, he felt the back of his throat and nostrils burning.
The taste was horrid, but Lance welcomed any other senses if it meant distracting him from the agony he was experiencing.
Lance coughed, attempting to clear his airway. While he had largely avoided choking on his vomit and dying, lying his head on its side didn’t remedy everything, as some puke had made its way down his trachea.
Shiro began speeding up, though Lance was too focused on breathing and getting the taste out of his mouth to really notice a change in pace. What he did notice was the increasing violence of Shiro’s actions. It felt like Shiro was trying to push him into the wall, as each thrust pushed his entire upper body further back on the bed.
Shiro thrusted one more time into Lance, who felt his hands slam into the wall behind him. He had almost forgotten Shiro was holding both of them down with his one metal arm.
A moment of intense heat followed, as Shiro stayed eerily still within Lance. The younger paladin also stilled, afraid that if he moved, Shiro would start again.
Shiro didn’t begin again, however, instead pulling out of Lance roughly. The red paladin felt hot tears streaming down his face as he choked on his own silent sobs, wanting to cough his lungs out.
::
Despite being unable to focus his eyes, Lance could tell Shiro was too close to him from the black paladin’s breath on his cheek.
“Don’t make me do this again,” a threatening voice whispered into the boy’s ears.
Lance felt like time was moving in slow motion; like he was trapped within a void, unable to move or breathe. He barely even noticed when the hands that had been holding him down and covering his mouth finally retreated, nor when the sound of his door opening was heard throughout the now slightly brighter room.
Before the door closed, though, Lance could make out a few final words.
“No one would believe you,” Shiro said, facing away from the boy, “Not over me.”
Finally, the door slid closed, and the bedroom fell back into a cruel darkness. The sobs were no longer silent as Lance realized just how right Shiro was.