chaldene || lotor and his generals x reader [voltron x reader]

to have, to feel, to be || lotor | nsfw

To love, to feel love, to be loved. Love included the bleak and pitch black universe, dotted with stars and colors that illuminated the emptiness like city lights upon Earth's quiet, cricket-song filled cycles of day. It painted the scenery, washing away the bitter loneliness of it all. There were scars within this blank canvas; perhaps a paintbrush could rip the material into shreds. Some poor soul could be ripped away from their life, maybe it was the death that really dimmed the hues- sometimes, the paint was crimson red, splattered upon bodies and bodies, forming war's forlorn landscape.

To think, to feel thoughts, to be lost in thoughts. You dried your hair quickly at the break of what dusk would have been on Earth after a long shower, lost in long thoughts. Your prince had just returned for a mission, and it was only fitting to go see him in your finest night attire. You chose to dress yourself sparingly, perhaps even scandalously, for the night. Your skin was fairly exposed- showy- and certainly pleasing to one's eye. Sucking in an air of breath, you put your palm against the mirror you posed in front of, balling your fist as you felt the cool surface beneath your fingers.

The spaceship illuminated your figure dimly, much like your thoughts of the cruisers. The Galran Empire was a state of brutes and warriors who lived like nomads, preying on the next family's freedom on a new planet. These hops from place to place, the war and the conquering, the life for eternity on a spaceship, the taking of lives and placing them into the nimble hands of but one poor soul, it was a dangerous notion to you, a simple being who was only a simple Galran princess.

You prioritized, however, romancing your prince for the night, and possibly for eternity. It was truly poetic, you thought, as you walked down a muted, violet-lighted hall to a darkly-lit bedroom. The door slid open, and there was a subdued hue to the atmosphere of the room. You laid your eyes a man sitting by his lonesome upon a throne-like seat, accompanied by a small table with a champagne glass on it. His jaw rested unbeknownst upon a closed fist, and looked onto the wall blankly as if bored. In his other hand, he held a glass with some type of alcoholic beverage, you presumed.

You noticed the floor was of a darker color than the structures and tile of the hall on the strangely-shaped Galra ship, footfall heavy with each heel's click. There was a wall beside you missing; the panel of windows opened up the universe before your eyes, and though it was borderline shivering chilly, you could feel the heat of your cheeks rising, blinking towards the bed overlooking the sight of the galaxy.

Your lips curled upwards, in contrast to his faraway gaze into your eyes. His lips parted, eyes widened as if dazed, and he lifted his head up.

To want, to feel want, to be wanted.

"My princess, you look fine tonight," Lotor breathed out to you as you stepped closer to him. Your steps thudded against the floor, as loud as your heartbeat leapt when he spoke- a pin could have dropped and it would be in ear's range- and you approached the man, who had been awaiting your arrival.

He took your hand and kissed it gingerly, delicately, as you stared at him silently.

"Nothing to say, dear?"

You were too caught up in your own thoughts about him to respond. You were just about to utter out an apology when he pulled your arm, and your entire body, towards him gently. He smiled softly as you stumbled to stand above him, hands locked in a tight hold.

"You look flustered," Lotor's voice dropped to a whisper.

"I'm not used to you being gentle, even with me," You said sheepishly, looking at the floor. He was by nature an inherited warlord, and was obviously cruel to his opposers. You secretly loved his attention, that you were like a lost puppy who had found a home, beckoning your owner for affection.