#voltron x reader

"Do you see now what you have done you imbecile! Get back up on the fight and support me immediately" He dodges millions of shots while angrily muttering to himself, why is it taking so long for you to answer?!

His fighter sews through the skies of Altea, far above and away from the chaos his main-ship waits his orders for an invasion, the strategy was simple, take down one of the lions by dividing them, and by this way Alteas' primary mains of defense are gone. Simple enough that it only be needed three components, him, you and the Beast-man, his main objective was taking down Falas' blue lion while you assisted him and the Beats made it's chaos, but as it seems the pilots have exchanged places, again, now he has to adapt, screw plan A, any lion will do, he will get her eventually too

There is only one small problem, where is his back up?! If you don't answer his call there won't be enough time to crowd control the lions and you both risk dying by the monster as well, the opportunity is now that they noticed he is no longer fooled by their tricks

But seconds turns into minutes and your fighter is no where to be found, you are supposed to be back up already from a shot like that, he knows your ship can take it, and he knows you can power through more pain than the short-circuit that tends to happen when the ships' carcass takes too much damage, so why aren't you back?

The red lions approaches him from his right, by mere centimeters Sincline is able to dodge the giant blade on it's mouth, he grunts, and glaces back at the transmitter, it's yellow light taunts him "What is taking so long, damn it"

With no other way the prince retreats away from the main battle, which the lions take as his departure and their focus shifts to the Death-beast now at the castles' doorway. Sincline takes this moment to breath, sweat runs down his helmet, his muscles are tense with anger, but as he looks back at the, still not connected, transmission… a shiver runs down his spine

Something is wrong…

Canceling the dial, he tries connecting with his main-ship, it works instantly

"Colonel Targar bring me status of my back ups' readings" he orders

"Yes, your Imperial Prince" now it better be a matter of seconds for him to have his answer, and it better be a good excuse to why you aren't showing up nor answering him or you will pay dearly once this battle is over

It took three laps around the battle ground for Targar to answer, he will slap him for it later, this is too long and the Beast-man is already down an arm of it's two pairs "Sire… we can't detect the humans' fighter-ship anywhere"

Now behind the castle the prince stops his patrol and hovers in place, his voice, for the first time in this battle, sounds confused "what?"

"We can't detect it's ship anywhere near us or the empire radius! It's like it vanished!"

"Vanished but that is-" the flash of light…their screams and sudden silence… this… this complicate things "Change of plans, retrieve the Death-beast and fall back!"

"But sir we are almost-"

Now his rage returns "DO I PAY YOU TO QUESTION MY ORDERS TARGAR?!"

"No sir, it will be done immediately sir!" he can almost see his colonels ears twitch down with the wine in his voice

With a tsk and a growl the prince of the Galra retreats, in his cameras he can see the black lion following his leave, that makes him smirk, deny it as she might, Fala is as infatuated with him as he is her, he is sure of it

"Oh don't you worry dear" he says to the image as he tries connecting with the black lions frequency, it works "I will be back for you"

But for now they must part ways, before she could answer he is out of rage already

Back at his main-ship Sincline jumps out of his fighter and already barks orders, his technician crew is already in motion at his ship the second he lands out of it "I want footage of the last hour of battle with the Pilots of Voltron, make sure it tracks the motions of my squire, immediately!"

The nearest soldier salutes and runs off to the lower workings of the hangar, as he leaves and Sincline all but strides forward to the commanders' center, Colonel Targar meets him half way there

"You better be making your way out there with the retrieve squadron or don't bother me at all" the idiot promptly shuts his mouth and with a nod hurries out of his way

It was surprisingly easy to retrieve the beast, when the five ships of the retrieve squadron had approached the pilots of Voltron, they retreated from the main battle and attacked the new treat, it bough time for the rest of the twenty units to approach the Beast-man and bind it back to it's coffin like ship, with the mere push of a button Sincline was able to send it back to wherever it came from

Leaving five sentinels on Altea as was standard protocol, the prince retreated with his main-ship and set course to planet Galra once more, now on the commanders' central he allows himself to sit and observe the battles' recording

There are countless possibilities to what may have happened to you, no-one of which are pleasant, the most obvious: Death, teleportation, time warps, shirking, and intangibility. The consequences of utilizing dark magic as a primary weapon fo war are again, showing

This was one of the reasons he wanted to conquer the Goering nebula by himself. His father is a great conqueror, but he is nothing without a good beast tamers, it makes him dependable on his witch and Sincline abhors the idea to bind himself to her in this codependency, his father is lucky that hag is his mother and loves him more than anything in this universe, a luxury his son does not have

With a sigh Sincline inclines on the commanders' throne, as he feared you disappeared right after the flash, the constant data that was being transmitted from your fighter all but vanished too, at least he knew what caused your disappearance, but now how to fix it…?

If it was a teleport, you would be back soon to him, he has no doubt, but if you actually perished… no, he had chosen you for a reason, you wouldn't die so easily, he refuses to believe it

Yes, call him sentimental, but you are his to keep, the first things he actually earned through work, your obedience, your fear, your respect, your loyalty… he worked too hard for it to be wasted on such a pathetic battle and such an inconvenience…

At times like this he could be back at his quarters, enjoying the ends of a battle with some wine, or better, blood, and a whore while you would be supervising on his instead, better yet, if it wasn't for this predicament he might even be enjoying Fala…

Oh princess Fala of the fallen kingdom of Altea, young, beautiful and feisty, just how he likes his woman, she would be the perfect addition to his harem, a testament to his conquering power, when he is done with her she would be nothing but a obedient husk of a girl…

But the Death-beats' ray was an unpredictable variable that would cost him this battle regardless, it was him or you, and for your sacrifice he does not blame such an obvious decision. You knew that there was only one correct outcome of that attack, and it was you taking it, given he wouldn't kill you for this leave, no, you are far too…

…

…Too useful, for him to kill now, but punishment would be in order, he would let you chose, by this point you would chose solitary, it is why he let it be a choice at all, for the day that he is actually mad you won't be choosing at all, although he does imagine you wouldn't mind his favorite method of punishment… much

You where trained since you have come to his care for this, be his shadow, his general, his extra pair of hands and eyes in battle… To be a fail safe to his security and to his blind spots, you are to balance him in his "impulsiveness" as Honerva had put it… not much different from her and Daibazaal, but Sincline saw it different

Unlike his father, he made his right hand himself, molded you to his needs and his vision of what a ruler needs, you are all skill and no magic, he can appoint a new priestess later into his rule after all, but a loyal soldier? No, he needed to stablish one as soon as he could… he doesn't want what he will make happen to his father to repeat to him now does he?

At the time he decided on this plan, you where… an impulsive decision, yes, but you payed off perfectly, a gladiator that looked so fragile but was deadly, a slave that was possibly so used to suffering a a bit of mercy would break your sense of person enough for him to make you dependent on him. You took to your training perfectly, sans language, the things he had to do for you to understand him at the time where humiliating… your answers where at least more ridiculous than his

Well, he should call them soldier again shouldn't he? Yes, it was mere a courtesy, even if you are still listen as a ex-slave in you own database, that you had said it would be, inside they could extract far more than the expected, not only the usual backup information of running errors and failures able to detect the current problem with the fighter-ship, but your own personal stored information

And Erzo was treating it all as gossip, which given, is an entertaining way to bring levity to such a puzzling piece of information, for what are they mean to do with it now…?

"He looks older than Lotor tho?" Zetrid comments, in her datapad he can see the glimpses of the fighter-ship model on display, seems she has finally found a new pet project

"Maybe time passes different over there?"

"hm… maybe… or he is supper traumatized by war and that stuff, back then we didn't had a battalion of droids right?"

"nah, this Lotor-I mean, Sincline, looks too much like a daddy's boy to even get out on the field, just look at those clothes and title! "right hand man", fine silk for a fucking uniform! AND A SHINING HELMET!!! I say he can't last ten seconds in a match"

"I don't know about it, didn't you said the same for Lotor?"

"That is different, he had beaten armor on I should have noticed that, but the good hair genetic threw me off my game"

By his side another sheet lies open, yours, only one name, no surname given, a luxury not afforded to you he is sure, a human scavenged on planet Earth, not a colony nor a treat, merely the remains of a self-destructive civilization. For a moment the prince wonders if this dimensions' Earth is destroyed as well, and that's how the Paladins came into contact with Voltron, it is said that beast had the potential to level solar systems… nothing that was of his father ever came declawed that he is certain…

Ex-gladiator and champion for twenty years, now a fidelity bound servant of Prince Sincline, his general for about forty years now, right hand commander in the conquering of the great Goering Nebula and owner of this fighter-ship… honestly if Lotor wasn't seeking bursts of quintessence through the galaxy he would believe this is all too perfect to be true, but the readings don't lie, and Kova…

Well, Kova hasn't gotten out of your ship and that little rascal is as addicted to that stuff as his parents, if he likes a place too much, it was touched by the mystical forces of the universe, it is why he likes him so much too after all, he was alive only because of quintessence as well, if only he was Altean enough to wield it… enough of that, focus Lotor, the human general

By their little maniac episode he could understand two things, Sincline is definitively not someone he wants as his enemy, if his "loyal general" fears for their death that a "he" will impose on them regardless of where they are? Then he is a Buffon who deals with his allies as he deals with his enemies, with fear, much like his own father then, and that brings the second thing, this is enough reason for Lotor to despise this other version of himself

And where there is fear for a superior… there is a chance of mutiny, and… in a way, you are his general as well aren't you? If names could be changed through the universes, then why couldn't appearances drastically change too? Who is to say you aren't that dimensions' Acxa? Or Erzo? Or Narti? Or even Zetrid? He could keep you… hell he must, was there someone looking for you anyways?

Would Sincline come looking for you? Actually, better question, now that he had more information, besides how to replicate the jump you just did, he needed to know the circumstances that made you come here, by the sigh of your ship there was a battle, where you being pursued? By who? Where you a traitor? Did you fight Voltron? Was it Voltron, your Voltron, that brought you here? Could such an old mech do such a thing in this dimension as well?

So many questions, so many leads… after eons of searching, of dead ends… this… is this a sigh that things are finally going his way?

"Acxa"

"Yes sir?" she stops reading the in coming readings of the small ship docked in their hangar

"Bring me the human, there is no need of restrains, we don't want to frighten a potential ally now"

"is it wise to get them out so soon? For all we know this could be one of the witches tricks again" at her words a shiver ran down Lotors' spine, the Altean colony they had found… one of many illusions Haggar had created over the centuries, a very personal fuck you to him he is sure of it

"Indeed, but it could also be our best lead to our quintessence hunt, we must take risks to discover the extraordinary, and I have a good feeling about this… besides, it's not like Narti hasn't been practicing her… telepathy"

With a satisfied nod, Acxa walks out of the room, Zetrid takes her place with the readings, she isn't paying attention to them but the tough is appreciated regardless, Erzo continues to skip through the information datas they have, searching for key words and names. Daibazaal in particular caught every ones attention

"500 years… time definitively passes different, there is no way he looks that old but is younger than your dad Lotor" and it was uncanny indeed, Daibazaal… even if the name survived this dimension as the Galra origin planet, looked nothing like Zarkon, but he did look… more like him, the skin color for one, the similar vibrant purple, pointed ears, far more exaggerated than his, and definitively more than his own son, who has rounder ones even compared to Lotor

There were no records on any of his generals, either they didn't had similar names, as he suspected, or didn't existed, no Haggar, even even for the fun of it he searched Sendak, same result, by name they wouldn't find no one sadly, and by appearance it was still tricky, perhaps you would be able to help them in this as well

A message pops in his datapad, it was Acxa "They are sleeping"

…

Well…

But what to do now? Displaced not in time, nor space, but in dimension, no one knew you, or the things you had done and does, nothing… you were… truly… a nobody… even by name weren't you?

Sincline… no, he was different, but uncannily similar, Broad shoulders, proud stance, calculating purple eyes that change to slits in anger, a sneer that signals royalty anywhere, long silver hair, but his age… Lotor, for that is his name in this reality, feels younger than your prince of the Galra, his features are softer, his ears are sharper and his skin is far more purple than blue of it's usual lavender hue

He felt… insecure somehow, there is something in his defensive actions, the way he hides his face, his boots with heels as if to feign a higher stature, what had set him off in rage again? For a moment he seemed bored, Sincline had a tendency for mood swings once his curiosity drifted but for his rage to show it is usually provoked by his own overthinking or a well given jab… what had set Lotor off?

"From last time I heard, Prince Lotor doesn't take slaves, how came you to be put into his care? What's so special about you that the prince of the Galra empire took you in hm?" he had said

Now with more care, you pic at the memory, bitterness, yes, the subtile hiss and roar in his voice at his title, it was the use of his name- no, the fact that "the prince of the galra empire had a slave" that set him off… had you jump so far off that this empire did not take slaves? No, that's impossible, slavery is a by product of empires, perhaps this Lotor doesn't condone it? Wich again… odd, given his prince title, but then again…

The impeccable cell, the generosity to feed… no, that is used as a tactic of unnecessary mercy, a power play, so only the cell, is your true clue that perhaps this Sincline does not take upon slaves… or… he couldn't? If the time-line of events are similar to your universe, Voltron has been getting more and more active, soon the rumors of Daibazaal's, or ratter, Zarkon's, incapacity to destroy it will reaches the princes' ears and he will set course back home

Or has that already happened? No, you are on the outskirts of the Galra empire, but then again… the wording… outskirts, not an actual place, before setting course you and Sincline where dealing with the last sighs of rebellion of the recent conquered Goering Nebula, is Lotor the same? He would have bragged no? But the discrete nature…

Too little information, too much variables, your head hurts, maybe the deadly shock of that monster is catching up with you after all. With a sigh you slid down the nearest wall, and only then is when you register your helmet in your hands… shit, you had taken it off…

The crowd erupted into a roar of cheers…

Your heart races, uneven breath leaves you lungs, your vision blurred slowly recovers itself, iron coatees your taste glandule, your hands are soaked in red, guts fill the arena, in one hand a broken sword, in the other a stolen mace, but you are alive, for one more day you are alive, and at your feet, a lifeless body of a little alien boy lies, throat slit open, right… he was your last kill…

And there you are standing, you are alive, you, are a champion once again, a screeching sound startles you from your trance, the vultures, right, it's over…

The Galra announcer says many words, you now recognize some, winner, Emperor Daibazaal, Galra empire, and probably Slave, it was the same word they used to call you in after all, you don't acknowledge them, instead, like a machine you turn to the highest balcony and kneel, a courtesy instigated into you by the sharp sting of wips on your early fights

Above all was a purple man with strong jaw and amused cruel eyes, dressed in black and red and a golden crown resting in his temple, that, you have come to recognize, as Emperor Daibazaal, ruler of the Galra empire, opportunists and conquerors of the universe… to think you would ever see royalty… never in all your life you would think it would be space royalty… honestly after you where taken from Earth's remains… you didn't even think you would live pass your twenties anymore… and yet…

His watch spot was opulent, gold ornaments, red cushions, beside him, casted in shadows is the hag, you know her, you have climbed the gladiatorial ranks enough to have been used as her experiment personally, the mere sight of that ragged cloth makes your forearm itchy. Usually he is also surrounded by pleasure woman, slaves, but you have seen some that either where his favorites or free Galra with extremely revealing outfits, but today thee is no-one, however… there is still a empty chair by his side, weird…

More words are said, and the king rises, his voice is booming and the audience goes quiet, his head turns to you, and his hand rises as if picking up a chalice, your cue to rise, so you do, but the sound of chains and the gates opening makes you turn abruptly, grip tightening around your weapons

From the other side of the arena a Galra man walks out of the shadows, clad in fine tunic and armor, a helmet with wings like a bats firmly protecting his head, long white hair flowing with the wind, in his hips a sword lies, he looks too clean to be a warrior, too groomed to be a slave, this is a guest, and the second his form is truly out in the sun and the crowd erupts in cheers again? You know…

This is your last battle isn't it?

You have been an executioner before, the crowd usually boos against your opponent, no matter how well kept they are, that is your cue that you can live, but cheers? When it isn't a monster or another slave? Oh you have heard the stories, from colleagues at the mines, you have bored the crowd, you are meant to go, that, is your personal executioner, survive or kill, the end will always be your death

For paid executioners of the arena, will not be allowed to lose…

And for a moment, you finally breath easily, your muscles give out exhausted, you are surrounded by death, and soon, you will be claimed by it as well, how long hae you been it's bringer? Far longer than you remember, but the worst part? Deep down… you still preferred this way, than being burned alive or starved to death back on Earth

Yet.. the numbness… it's tiring… and this… is your way out, no one will help you, no one ever would, there is no rescue, the people you loved are dead or missing, there is no future for you in this life the second Earth imploded in wars. So you kneel, head stretched out, neck glistering with sweat, weapons discarded, you hear the sword being drawn out, your heart starts to race, you hold your breath instinctively and…

Nothing

The cold metal taps your shoulders and the back of your head, the crowd murmurs, and gasps, a thud startles you, and into you field of vision a helmet rolls to your knees… you look up, the man is looking at you with a curious frown, he says something and tilts his head up, carefully you pic the helmet and rise, once you put the helmet on, the young Galra stats you address the crowd, you are at a complete loss, head following his movements like a frighted kitty

For a moment he considers pushing your good will, he did asked first after all, however… someone has to give in first, might as well be him, if this is what it takes to make the stranger talk, so be it, he can be generous, if the reward is worth it…

"At the outskirts of the Galra empire, we found your ship floating when passing through"

The soldier maintains themself stoic, not giving away any emotion besides a simple nod, either they are rather good at their job, or they already expected this

"And my answer?" he fishes out, he will not be a push over, this would be better as a conversation, but what can he do, the poor thing is too cautious… for now

The silence returns, but Lotor is determined to stand his ground until at least one answer is given

And his patience is rewarded… with a ratter disappointing revelation

"Earth"

Ah… it seems he got his hopes ups for no reason after all, the soldier, no… slave, is not a time traveler, nor a habitant of a mystical place, after all, there is still a mystery to uncover however, how did they get that old ship

"Ah… one of the emperors' slaves I imagine, running away from the mines are you?" In his voice disinterest slips out, his disappointment affecting his already dampened mood, he looks around trying to find more interesting things to get him out of here faster, what a waste of time "where did you get that ship? That thing is ancient…"

"… the princes' actually"

"Pardon?" Oh the old switch aaro again, these poor things really think being associated with him will give them any favors? Oh if only really

"…" they don't follow up, so he decides to play just a bit longer, he may not be an intimidating name to a Galra, but he sure is to a slave, they never have the true picture anyways

"From last time I heard, Prince Lotor doesn't take slaves, how came you to be put into his care? What's so special about you that the prince of the Galra empire took you in hm?" He can feel a cruel and bitter smirk place itself in his face

"…" they continue to stare at him, then gently tilt their head sideways "who is… prince Lotor?"

Oh for the elders sake this is ridiculous "emperor Zarkons' one and only son, heir to the throne of the Galra empire"

Caution be damned, this thing thinks it can try to use his name, no, merely his title and existence, to even have a sliver of advantage

He shouldn't be even bothered by this, throw them away and be done with it, but the idea that somehow, someway, someone thinks he has even a sliver of power that he, by all means, should have, but does not, because his father is an addict and his mother a mindless hag… it apparently is a sore spot the negated prince didn't even knew he had

"Who also happens…" his hands fly to the back of his head, a click can be hard and slowly Lotor reveals his face "to be me"

"Emperor…?"

"Now answer me clearly or I'll drop you back to the mines that you just came from, and do not dare to lie, I will know" he gets closer to the cell eyes cold piercing "how did you get that ship?"

"…" something seemed to snap

The strange earthling shoulders shake, they take slow steps back and a breathless laugh can be heard softly from their strange old armor

Then it grows louder and louder, Lotor does not dare to take his eyes off them, but his frown softens, feet firmly in place but slightly adjusted in case he needed to jump into action

"He will kill me…" they laugh, hand selling to their own helmet and taking it off with brutal force that he is impressed they didn't cut themself with that many sharp points "he will kill me regardless! AHAHAHA"

With a roar they smash their helmet on the back wall, over and over, repeatedly, but the thing merely dents, they laugh and scream, the madness spiral they seemed under so strong that makes Lotor fear a bit for his own life, even if he knows that nothing can actually trespass the plasma barrier

"…ha…haha…" slowly, his prisoner maniac state subdues

With heavy and shaky breaths the half-galra can finally see for the first time what they look like

Earthlings as it turns out, have very odd round and small ears, smoother skin with a bit of a texture, this one specifically had their ears pierced with black rings, and from one side up to their nose lies a scar

He had heard that the new paladins of Voltron were humans, a race that comes from a backwaters planet far away enough from the empire that they hadn't yet been conquered

Perhaps that planet is named Earth after all, from the minimal footage that is being divulged, and that Narti was able to hijack, to the rest of the empire, you do look like them

"… you will not believe me" they say, voice hoarse and tired of screaming, looking at him at last

"Try me" after such a show he is a bit proud of how his stance didn't falter

"… there is a black box on the fighter-ship, it lies behind the pilots' seat bellow the floor, a simple screw can take it off, you will find your answer on the CVR"

"I want to hear it from you regardless"

"It's mine"

"…" now both faces stare at each other, the eyes of the human do not waver, their conviction clear, but Lotor has face off against far smoother lies, he will get to the truth "you… really like to test others patience don't you?"

"What year is it?"

Throw off by the sudden question, Lotor can feel one of his ears twitch "what?"

"The questions, I answered yours, now mine, what year is it?"

The contrast of the calmness in their posture to the despair and madness prior… it would send shivers down a weaker man

He answer in Galran calendar, if only to determine that they have been with the empire enough to have learned it

And indeed they do, for the recognition and shock is clear in their face, their hand covering their mouth as they take in the information

Very dedicated to the illusion aren't they? Very well

The possibility that the black box of the fighter might be compromised is not null, but he trusts that Narti will be competent enough to discover if it has been tampered with or not