Chapter Text
Post Voltron au.
Lance had always hated his altean marks. They rested on his face so badly. He hated the constant reminder of his old lover on his face. He had to be reminded of her every time he looked in a mirror or saw his reflection. So, he did everything he could do to not see his ugly reflection staring back at him. Every mirror in his house was missing, shattered, or covered. He had numerus scars on his knuckles from punching all his mirrors.
He felt terrible every time he was reminded of her. He always heard mutters and whispers when he went out in public.”have you heard...? Hes not a real altean,” “I feel bad for him. He does not even look altean. Hes just a mere human. ”. He always heard comments on his marks when he went out in public. It always made tears prick at the corners of his eyes.
He felt like he was just a leftover of what Allura had been. He should not even be here. He should be dead. He should have died at the omega Sheild. He wished Allura had not revived him. They could have found a better replacement. Someone who was actually good at something. He wished he did not have these god forsaken marks. He wanted to carve them off his face. The only scars remaining would be his own. That is when an idea popped into his head. He could do that. He would.
Lance scrambled over to his kitchen to where his knives would lay. He walked over and grabbed one of the many knives. He had not held something sharp like this in a while. He knew he could not do it without a mirror. His heart beat nervously at the thought of looking at himself again. His ugly eyebags, dull eyes, those god forsaken marks. But he knew it would be worth it.
Lance walked to his room which had his phone in it. He opened his untouched phone to see he had msgs from the team. Wow, they had not forgotten about him. What a surprise. Lance ignored them and opened his camara app to see his face. He had looked at the top of the screen to see his team mates constantly msgsing him. Asking if he was okay etc. Why would they care? They do not know how it feels.
Lance had remembered he had left his knife on the kitchen table. He was so stupid for that. Lance walked over to his kitchen and grabbed the knife. He ran the blade against his skin. So sharp it cut a line through his finger. He was numb. He did not care for pain anymore. His pain would be over when he took these marks off.
The former paladin walked back to his room and grabbed his phone. Ignoring how they had finally stopped msging him. He placed down his phone and looked at himself in the reflection. He put the knife up to his face and began to slowly carve the marks off. The blood bubbled and tinkered down his face and down to his jeans he had not changed in a couple of days. It did not matter. After this he could be happy. He could be free from Allura and these ugly teal marks.
He eventually skinned the mark off. He could not even tell what it was. It was covered with blood. He could not wait for the other side. He did it as quickly as possible. The warm blood dripped and polled down his tanned skin. He needed this. Adrenaline was pulsing through his body. His breath sped up after he finished. Seeing the amount of blood on his face, hands, carpet, and clothes. How would he clean this up?
He had lost a lot of blood. He could feel himself start to get woozy. Everything swirled. He felt so tired. He could feel himself start to pass out. He fell to his side. He was sure he was fine. Just exhausted. He could feel the stinging come to his face. His eyes fluttered shut. His blood now leaking down his cheeks, around his nose and onto his hard floor.
That is when lance heard a harsh pounding on his front door.
Oh god.