#be mindful of the tags! mental illness is a Subject

[hisui-dreamer]

of scheming hearts

Pairing: Jade Leech x f!reader

Synopsis: if you're born into the enemy family, you suppose the best solution would be to simply switch sides

Tags: cliché isekai plots, reincarnation, enemies to lovers, female reader, historical setting, mentioned abuse and neglect, unhealthy mental states, arranged marriages, patriarchal society drama, angst with comfort, fluffy end, long fic

Word count: 2.7k+

Notes: this is my magnum opus omg i really loved writing this hahaha. happy birthday my most beloved adorable eel!

Floyd's Villainess ✧ Malleus' Villainess

✧Side Story✦Masterlist

There once lived a villainess who desired nothing more than to be wanted.

Her family, newcomers to the nobility, had ascended the social hierarchy due to their vital contributions to the kingdom. The baron, burdened by the weight of lineage, pined fervently for an heir, as the baroness had endured the heartache of multiple miscarriages, casting dark doubts upon her ability to provide a rightful successor to the barony.

In her heart, the villainess despised her ill-fated gender, for the world deemed her unworthy, and even her own mother rarely graced her presence, leaving her in the care of a faithful nanny.

But the villainess' destiny took a sinister turn when, at long last, the baroness bore a son. A grand celebration erupted throughout the barony, and slowly, the servants who had once watched over the young villainess began to shirk their duties, knowing the baroness's newfound obsession with her own offspring left no room in her heart for her daughter.

Now that the barony had secured its coveted heir, the young villainess was deemed nothing more than a pawn in the grand game of arranged marriages. It was hardly a shock when the baron agreed to a proposal from a prosperous merchant family, one that required no dowry for their daughter's hand in marriage.

The baroness recognized the potential of this union to solidify ties with the merchant family, and thus, at the tender age of fourteen, the young villainess was whisked away to the merchant family's opulent estate to meet her new family.

Life amidst the merchants was a vast improvement for the villainess. No longer was she subjected to neglect or mockery; the servants treated her with respect, and she embarked on a journey of education. Her heart was filled with a desire to repay her new family, particularly her fiancé, who had captured her affections. He was the first man to treat her as an equal, to make her heart dance with laughter, and to seek her companionship. She pledged her life to stand by his side.

The merchant family was locked in a fierce rivalry with another merchant clan, the Leeches, who hailed from the coastal regions. The eldest son of the merchant family, the villainess's betrothed, harboured an intense loathing for the Leech family, yearning to obliterate their family and monopolize the region.

With unwavering determination, the villainess sought to become an indispensable asset to her beloved, mastering the ways of a merchant and honing her intellectual prowess. Her aim was clear: sabotage the Leeches' endeavours, be ahead of their plans, and outwit them at every turn.

These actions did not go unnoticed by the second son of the Leech family, a man of keen intellect and a gift for persuasive speech. He was captivated by the villainess's cunning and sharp mind, and a rivalry was born. They vied to outsmart each other, exchanging backhanded compliments at public gatherings, while also skilfully anticipating and countering each other's moves.

However, the villainess's world crumbled when she discovered her beloved fiancé, the very man she had dedicated her life to was having an affair, and to a mere maid. Yet, her heart was not consumed by anger. She believed her inadequacy was the root of the problem, that she had not done enough to please him. Her efforts to ruin the Leech family became more direct, driven by the desire to earn her beloved's admiration.

Alas, the recognition she yearned for would never be hers. One momentous day, during a tea party she hosted to celebrate the success of her new business, an attempt was made on the life of the Leech family's heir, by a maid, the same one her fiancé was infatuated with, sought to poison him. Miraculously, the dosage of the poison was not lethal, but it left the heir bedridden for days.

The Leech family launched an intense investigation to unmask the culprit, and it did not take long for her lover to implore her to take the blame, to save his beloved.

Love, as it often does, clouded even the sharpest minds. The villainess, whose only desire was to please her beloved, agreed to shoulder the blame.

And so, she found herself imprisoned in a dark, desolate cell, wasting away the prime of her youth. But there was one person who would pay her a fateful visit, the man who had once been her rival.

"I didn't want you to end up like this," he began, shattering the eerie silence of the dungeon.

A faint smile graced her lips. "A place like this does not befit a gentleman like you," she replied.

He chuckled bitterly. "Please, my dear, you and I both know I am far from a gentleman."

She shook her head fondly, well aware of his misdeeds in the shadows. "Well, you always were a gentleman to me..."

The air grew thick with unsaid words, until he found the courage to break the silence once more. "Why did you take the blame?"

She sighed. "Whatever do you mean, Leech?""

He scoffed. "You had countless chances to harm my family before, and you never did. You always played fairly. If you had attempted such a thing, it wouldn't have been so sloppily done, and you certainly wouldn't be sitting here now." His intense gaze implored her to explain herself.

She cursed him in her mind for knowing her that well, but in the twisted life she's lived, maybe he was the only one who truly knew her.

"... Leech, you wouldn't know how it feels to be not wanted," she muttered, feeling tears well up in her eyes.

He stared at her in silence, unable to respond to the depths of her words.

"From one rival to another," she breathed, "may I ask for one last request?"

"Of course," he replied, his eyes cast down. "It would be cruel of me to deny my lady's request."

She huffed at his words. "I... I seem to have a craving for bitter almonds... They're my favourite snack, you see. Could you bring me some?"

She looked up to stare into his eyes, for perhaps the last time. His mismatched eyes were glossy, his eyebrows furrowed and it was the most emotion she had ever seen on his face.

"As you wish... I shall have them delivered before dawn," he replied hoarsely, his voice trembling as he turned to leave.

"Thank you... Jade."

The man froze in his steps, his heart heavy with the name you had never called, before resolutely walking away from the prison cell.

The next morning, the villainess was found to have passed away with a smile on her face, an empty box that still carried the faint scent of almonds cradled in her arms.

though Jade wasn't the main character, he and his twin brother grew largely popular for their interesting banter and chemistry with the main protagonist

the fans were particularly fascinated with his tragic love story, though they were only told bits and pieces of it, since the main plot was more focused on how the main protagonist would pull Jade out of his slump and get revenge for his love

we're told Jade fell in love with "a remarkable woman who was used as a mere pawn all her life"

the fanbase collectively agreed the villainess deserved a better ending, and more so for Jade who became so emotional for her despite always keeping up his appearances

the gap moe was just too strong to resist

and though you wished for him to get a better ending, you never imagined being the one to rewrite the ending, and especially not as the reincarnated villainess

by the time you entered the story, you had just gotten affianced to the scumbag of the merchant family

but even living in her birth family for a month was enough to make you realise how deep the villainess' trauma ran

even more so when you experienced the kind treatment in the merchant family, it was no wonder the villainess' detached mind threw away all reason to dedicate herself to her scumbag of a fiancé

perhaps she had never known companionship, but for you, the scumbag's attitude was an instant red flag

he would gift you cheap gifts he found on the street, constantly remind you what an honour it was to be his fiancée, but you suppose even these acts could warm the heart of a wounded child

you know that the Jade would eventually become your rival, and you would sacrifice yourself to protect the scumbag

buuut, you also know Jade fell in love with the villainess

so, if you were to side with Jade and help him put the merchants family under the Leech family's influence, there's a high likelihood he would spare you

and even if he doesn't fall in love with you, you would still be a skillful businesseswoman that could continue to work for the Leech family, or simply start your own business

basically just side with Jade and do not harm the Leech family!

only... the novel was far too vague about the "genius of the villainess", and you only know some of Jade's business plans

this means actually studying business and transforming yourself into a crafty businesswoman worthy of being the rival of Jade Leech (⁠ ⁠；⁠∀⁠；⁠)

but you can do it!! the villainess managed to, so why can't you?

and soon you started working on the field, actively working in information guilds and business ventures so you could make a name for yourself for him to notice you

and it didn't take long before you had your first encounter at a ball

A velvety voice spoke from behind you, "I don't believe I've made your acquaintance, my lady."

You turned gracefully, offering an elegant smile as you dipped into a curtsey. "Indeed, I don't believe I have. May I have your name, sir?"

He reciprocated with a courteous smile. "My name is Jade Leech, it's a pleasure to meet you,"

"Mr. Leech," you nodded with a hint of intrigue. "I'm—" Before you could complete your introduction, he interjected.

"My dear, I already know who you are," he said, something sinister twinkling in his hypnotic eyes. "Let's skip the pleasantries, shall we?" he suggested, and you noticed that the other guests had discreetly departed, leaving only the two of you.

"It seems my lady is quite bold, your business endeavours are rather... striking," he hummed.

A chuckle escaped your lips. "I shall take that as a compliment." Your veins tingled with anticipation, for the game had begun, and you had no intention of losing. "I'm rather impressed by your family's ventures as well,"

"Oh?" he arched an elegant eyebrow. "Do elaborate."

Game set.

"Your family operates with remarkable efficiency, I suppose any business would only aspire to such!" You said. "Hmm... It's a miracle how swiftly you've gained the support of so many reliable allies..."

You noticed a slight falter in his composure, surprised that you possessed information about the Leech family's coercive tactics, how they had either threatened or bribed indebted families into compliance.

Match.

You inched closer to him, standing on slight tiptoes to whisper into his ear. "I think we can agree we can both hurt each other, but I'd much rather think about what we could accomplish together..."

Stepping back with a smug grin, you took in his expression, adorably dazed. "Now, if you'll excuse me," you curtsied once more before turning to take your leave.

But if you had looked back, you would have seen Jade Leech with his hand concealing a sly smile, a faint blush tingeing his ears.

from that meeting, you've basically become business partners with Jade

though you do so secretly in guild meetings so the scumbag doesn't find out

you offer Jade with your family's business plans and the two of you come up with ideas to make it seem like the Leech family naturally outshone them

of course, Jade was rather suspicious of you at first, after all, why would you be working against your future in laws??

but you explained to him that, in reality, they never saw you as family

you were just a pawn in their eyes, and particularly because the marriage wasn't official yet, you were the best person to discard in order to affect the family

you could have been wrong, but it felt as if there was a bubbling anger deep within Jade's eyes as you explained your situation to him

but he very quickly switched back to his typical closed eye smile, eagerly talking about another plan to thwart your family's business

what also came as a surprise was that the poisoning incident failed

somehow, floyd's fiancé realised his tea was poisoned

still you can't deny the glee you felt when Jade assured you that he knew you didn't do it

but now, the Leech family is adamant to make the merchant family, and particularly the maid suffer

so Jade devises a plan to simultaneously protect you, and set up the downfall of the family

rumours started to spread of what cruel and immoral woman you were, scandalous bribes made with the city guards, indecent behaviour spent with your colleagues, all painting the picture of a wicked woman

the scumbag very quick to fall into the trap, started accusing you of having affairs and illicit trading

you denied these accusations, but your words did little to calm him

and all it took was a little alcohol (courtesy of Jade) to make him declare an annulment of your engagement at a party

maybe jade set up more rumour spreaders to make him more anxious, but you'll never know for sure

so as planned, you accept the annulment

but of course, you've been well-prepared to fight back against these baseless accusations, so one by one, you refute them with your business logs and witnesses to prove your innocence

your fiancé is speechless at the end of it, and the whispers of the crowd seem to show you've successfully declared your innocence

you quickly excuse yourself to a balcony to "regain your composure" and asked everyone to continue the festivities

but it wasn't long before a familiar face joined you

You didn't need to turn around to know who the footsteps were from. "Leech, the curtains are drawn. Shouldn't a gentleman such as yourself know the balcony is occupied?"

You turned to face him, finding his eyebrows furrowed in an amused manner. "My apologies. I assumed my lady might welcome some company," he replied playfully. "What's the matter my lady, you don't seem happy with the annulment at all."

A wistful smile graced your lips. "I am happy, of course, this is what we've worked towards..." You turned your gaze skyward, your eyes glistening. "It's just... I won't have anywhere to return to now,"

"Whatever do you mean?"

You scoffed. "Please, as if you didn't investigate my background before we even met," you retorted, turning to him with incredulity. "...you know I have no place in that house," you murmured quietly into the night.

"My pearl," he reached to cup your cheek, directing your gaze towards him. "How would you find a place next to me?"

His suggestion left you wide-eyed. "But the dowry-"

"You know I have no need of that," he smiled. "In fact, I think I should prepare a gift for my in-laws,"

"I wouldn't want them benefiting from you-"

"Now, now my dear," he tenderly brushed away the stray tear that fell, "when have you ever know me to be so kind? I would of course make them... suffer, a little," he added with a mischievous grin.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter at his proposal. "Hahaha! I like the way you think, Leech,"

"Is that a yes, then?" he asked, his eyes tenderly focused on you.

You leaned up to him, pressing your lips to his. He initially froze at the contact, but then melted into your embrace.

"It's a yes, Jade."

within days, you had moved into the Leech estate, and the family very fervently welcomed you

floyd has mentioned several times how this was Jade's dream come true and how he's glad he doesn't have to spend hours moping in the library about not seeing you anymore

and as expected, the merchant family soon found itself crumbling into a financial crisis now that you left them

the leech family graciously saved the family from bankruptcy, leaving them in debt of them

and Jade scoured/fabricated enough evidence from the silver hairpin and the teacup to apprehend the maid, leaving the scumbag alone and heartbroken

and though your blood family received a large sum from the Leech family, started facing financial difficulties left and right due to unsuccessful investments

it seems your new fiancé isn't very forgiving towards anyone who wrongs you

but then again, you wouldn't forgive anyone for crossing your eel either

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[insanelyadd]

#LetSansRest Day!

Hello everyone and welcome to year two of Let Sans Rest Day! Same as last year it's August 9th.

Before we get into some prompts, a little bit of a mission statement. Last year I said this day was for everyone who's a fan of Sans Undertale or anyone who's tired of every image they see of him being him Suffering. This is still true, but I do want to additionally address something I saw a few different people mention.

I have actually received criticism for daring to suggest that Sans not be tormented to the point of insanity, and that this day where I implore people to make realities where Sans doesn't become a creepypasta insane murderer man from the agony he is subjected to, isn't a stand against ableism like Let Papyrus Say Fuck Day is. *stares in bipolar psychosis and PTSD directly into your eyes* Obviously that's a load of shit, and even though Sans is more popular than Papyrus (I say, as a Papyrus Enjoyer) a lot of the content around Sans is very specifically about him suffering. So simply out of spite for these comments (including someone who saw last year's announcement and directly commented "No <3" on the post) I will be continuing this holiday indefinitely, just like LetPapyrusSayFuck Day. Die mad about it.

Just like how I have ADHD and relate to Papyrus and see the way the fandom treats him as the infantilization of neurodivergency like autism and ADHD, I can look at works in this fandom of Sans that demonize traits of mental illness like trauma, hallucinations, delusions, and mania. And I can say these are both bad actually. Not going to call anyone a bad person for engaging in these things, of course, that would be a bit goofy of me, I'm just saying the imagery used for these things is Very Loaded and a lot of people are mishandling them.

So anyways August 9th is the day we let Sans Undertale out of his Torment Nexus so he can:

Have lemonade at the beach or pool

Go stargazing while camping out in the woods with friends and family

Get smothered in cute baby kittens and puppies

Go to therapy and play with one of those magnetic sculptures all therapists seem to own

Take a nap on an inner-tube on a lazy river

Get to see the leaves change color for the first time

Play basketball with Papyrus

Fall asleep in a basket of freshly dried clothes

Go to a public greenhouse to look at all the different flowers on the surface

Perform stand-up for humans who all love his terrible puns

Please tag the post with #LetSansRest, #Sans, and #undertale as well as any other applicable tags for characters, relationships, etc. This day is primarily for classic Sans but it's not like I can stop you from drawing Fell Sans not being subjected to his own, personal, goth-themed Torment Nexus.

This is meant to be a day for everyone who wants Sans Undertale to go to therapy and feel better. People who want to put him in a hamster cage with plenty of things to prank for enrichment. People who want to win him one of those massive stuffed animals at the county fair.

If you want to participate please be mindful of some things:

I will be monitoring the tag to reblog things! I have ptsd and would appreciate if ships involving Papyrus or Frisk (and similar) with Sans are avoided. This is simply for my mental health and I greatly appreciate it. <3

Do Not post angst to the #LetSansRest tag. It is meant to be an angst free tag for him.

Don't worry if you can't participate on the exact day! Just like with #LetPapyrusSayFuck Day you can use the tag and post to it any day! :>

Hope you're able to participate and have fun! <3

[ivestas]

Thank you for writing my request, I loved it!! I have another idea but it's a deeper subject so I understand not everyone is comfortable with writing about it. Could you write about a younger reader and the team see self harm wounds and scars while they were injured or while they were changing? (Something along those lines) and what they would do/ react? Xx

what is most precious to you?

Summary: The 141 discover a part of you that you’d wanted to bury.

Tags: TW s/elf harm scars + sui/cide and talk of it, please read carefully/don't read if this topic triggers you, platonic!141 x medic!fem!reader, reader implied to be mentally ill, younger!reader, descriptions of blood and injury, canon typical violence, soap + ghost focused, unedited

Word count: 1.5k

Notes: im glad u enjoyed the previous req anon! i hope I'm able to do this req justice too 🫡

You’d been a part of the 141 long enough for the others to know and trust you.

An esteemed medic that knew medicine and all things fixing like the back of her hand, despite your age—it was a natural skill, it seemed. Your hands were always so damn fast with a gauze—hell, even a dirty rag you’d make use of in an instant. 

You were just good. Reliable. Consistent. Seemingly just a normal young lady whose only eccentricity was the job she chose to be: a medic for a merc group. 

Soap often liked to joke about that normalcy that clung onto you. 

“Bet when you’re on leave you work a 9 to 5 and sleep right at 8. I’m right, aren’t I?”

You snorted. “No, I’d sleep at 9.” 

“Ohhhhh, daring! Don’t be too crazy! Ya might just lose a leg!” 

Even Ghost would sometimes jump in, adding his own joke occasionally. 

“Should I get you a planner for your birthday? A nice, minimalist one with neutral stickers to match.”

You’d scoff and jab back, whether it be at Ghost’s mask or Soap’s current and past hair-styles.

But they never gave you a tough time about it—they were glad that one of them was able to blend back to civvy life with ease. 

Price even said it was his favorite trait—”sometimes, you need the practicality and mindset of a normal lady to get shit done.”

“Thanks?” 

The guys all had a similar image of what your childhood was like: middle-class, parents all stiff-like and old-timey, your favorite hobbies probably were things like football or reading, things like that. 

However, that image shattered during a post-mission intermission. 

Things went wrong, completely askew—the enemies were clearly prepared for the attack, because landmines were everywhere and the area was crawling with hostiles.

It was a resounding loss—many casualties, wounded, etc. 

You could hardly keep up, trying to patch up as many as possible, even when the sky rained of bullets and the air tasted thickly of gunpowder and death. It was like a place between purgatory and hell, a constant flow of shouts, screams, explosions.

It was too late for you to noticed a bullet grazed your arm; it was deep enough to be visible, but luckily it wasn’t aimed low enough for it to shoot into your arm. 

You had ignored the wound—in your mind, it only made sense to focus on the soldiers who were fighting for their lives and riddled with bullet wounds. 

So you just did that: focus on them. 

But, due to the constant movement and strain, the graze only worsened, almost tearing. The adrenaline numbed the pain, but you knew it was gonna hurt like a bitch soon enough. 

Luckily though, Ghost shouted in your ear through the comms. 

“Bravo-1, retreat!—fuckin’ hell—everyone, retreat!”  

You did just that—retreat. 

Huffing and puffing, you were quick to run to the distant chopper you recognized as the 141′s. A haze of sand was the only saving grace as it covered you from the enemies direct line of sight.

Soap pulled you into the helicopter with a quick grab of your wrist, completely unaware of the graze that arm sustained. You let out a sharp hiss of pain, feeling the skin tear just a little more. 

The entrance of the helicopter shut, and with both of you heaving, the plane finally shot back into the air, rocking back and forth the slightest bit. The sound of bullets slowly melted away into harsh whirring and mechanical buzz. 

You took a moment to collect yourself, inhaling sharply before you got up, arm still bleeding. 

But, strangely, you felt it drip along your arm and into your hand, running along your finger—ah, it should’ve been obvious, the sleeve of your wounded arm had completely torn. 

You lifted the arm, examining the wound. 

Scars of varying sizes, textures, and freshness—some having strange bubbly dots, others consisting of messy lines. Some of the fresher scars had torn a little, causing thin lines or red to rise. 

Your blood ran cold. You glance up, hoping—praying—that Soap didn’t see, or even understand the implications. 

But you could see he was staring, the cogs in his mind slowly snapping together. 

You put your arm away to your side, hiding it from his view. 

“Lass—“

“I need a medkit. We have one on the plane?” 

You loathed the look of sadness, of pity that shone in his eyes, pulled at the muscles of his face. 

Don’t. Stop.

I’m not weak. Don’t—I’m not weak! 

A chorus of words, feelings, of palpable dark was what filled your mind now. Insecurity, self-hatred, all of it—you’d been working on it, trying to regulate, to reason with the miasma that had taken ahold of your consciousness.

But, fuck, you’ve revealed it to Soap of all people—he felt bad, didn’t he? Disgusted? Worried? He was gonna tell Price, wasn’t he? That your unfit for the 141, that—

A hand rested on the top of your shoulder.

“Can I patch you up?” Soap asked softly. 

You grit your teeth. Moving away from his hand, you shook your head, glaring at the floor. A small splatter of blood was there. “I can fix it myself.” 

You expected—wanted—him to berate you. 

But he didn’t. He was kind. 

“Sure, kid. I’ll just get ya the med kit—stay put.” 

Another wave of shame rocked you. You sat on one of the small seats connected to the walls of the heli, rubbing away the small bits of dried blood. 

Consumed by your thoughts, you didn’t hear Soap murmuring to Ghost. 

“The kid—she, ah...” He ran a finger along his wrist. “Catch my drift?” 

“Cutting herself?” Ghost said bluntly. 

“Sometimes I wish you had a little more tact, L.T.” 

Ghost ignored him. “They fresh or old?”

“Both,” he sighed, grabbing a med kit from one of the plane’s various compartments. “What’re we supposed to do? Don’t wanna scare off the kid, but don’t wanna leave her on her own devices hacking away at ‘erself!” 

Ghost grabbed the kit from his hands. “I’ll handle this. You sit down—go near the Captain. Try to leave us some privacy.” 

Hesitantly, Soap nodded. “Work your magic, sir.” 

Ghost made his way to the other end of the helicopter where you were. You were hunched over your wound, a deep frown on your face. It’s uncharacteristic, but he knew it was a part of yourself you’d prefer to be shrouded in dark. Suffering wasn’t a nice look, was it?

But it was human. Denying your own right to feel it—it made Ghost frown too.

He sat beside you, kit in his hand. You had finally looked up then, alarmed. 

“Gimme your arm, kid.” 

You opened your mouth.

“Not leavin’ till I patch your arm up, so don’t even try.” 

Shamefully, you lifted your arm slowly. 

He took it with gentle but firm hands, a thumb running along a faint scar. 

Ghost opened the kit haphazardly with another hand. 

“When I was your age—maybe a little younger—couldn’t find much meaning in everything.”

He lifted his hand from your arm and grabbed alcohol and a small cotton rag. Dampening the rag with alcohol, he drew it to your arm, rubbing away the excess blood and cleaning the wounds. You didn’t make any noise, only breathing raggedly. 

“The suffering was pointless, in my eyes; thought, ‘this isn’t bloody fair’. Born in a shitty house with a shitter father, food hardly ever on the table, my mind deteriorating, and the world cast in deep gray.”

You nodded. 

Ghost grabbed a bandage gauze, unravelling it and wrapping it gently around the graze and the scars. It was calming, watching him work away, even if the wrapping was a little clumsy. 

“The harsh reality came a little while later, and it’s that people like me—us—we gotta work hard for shit to change. That this weight forced upon us, it’s only we that can shed it off. It’s still not fair—frankly, suicide is easier. Thought of doing it for the longest time... But...” 

He shook his head. “In my eyes, it’s a coward’s way out. We should never die by our own hands—there’s always something to live for.”

“What are you living for?” 

“Mmmm.... For tomorrow’s pint.” 

You laughed. 

He grabbed a safety pin and pinned the end of the gauze. “...now, I know it’s ‘silly’ to say, but you know we’re here for you?—the 141′s got your back, kid—how about this, let’s make a deal.”

“Yeah?” 

“You ever have the urge to cut yer arm, you come straight to me, or the others. They’ll listen. They care.”

They care.  

It’s weird, but hearing the words said out loud, it hit you. 

They really care. 

You took in a shaky breath. “Thank... you.” 

“It’s no problem at all, kid. Stay strong.”

AO3

Masterlist

Requests are open

[missrhinedottir]

| Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby |

Pairings: Dottore x Gn!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Selfship Coded, Reader has Medical Trauma, Reader has PTSD, Reader goes by no pronouns, Dottore goes by He/Him pronouns, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Reader is mentally ill, Mental Health themes, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Dottore is bad at comfort, Dottore might be ooc and for that I apologize, Mentioned Medical Tests/Medical Treatment, Implied Medical Abuse (it’s not explicitly said, but yeah), Flashbacks, 1.4k words. 

A/n: I wanted to write out a little something like this for a while with Dottore, and so here we are. I kinda left this one with a sorta open ending, because I might want to do a continuation of it at some point. So, yeah! I hope you like this <3

Also title name is from this song.

Summary: You’ve avoided going to Dottore’s lab for over a year now and Dottore is set on finding out why you have the aversion in the first place. 

Tagging: @auphelia @fleur-de-leap @tighnarly

It had been a long time coming. You always did hate going to Dottore’s lab, avoiding it at all costs, and for a whole year you were successful in that. He never asked much of you and you did the same with him, but after a while things started to crack and crumble. It was around the time that work had started to pile up for him. He was always busying himself in the lab and you were always hell bent on avoiding him there. You didn’t mind the work he did, even when he talked about it you were fairly calm, but something about entering the heart of it all always made you anxious. 

This time of year he was normally occupied in the lab. Usually he’d leave you be, not press you further on the matter, but something seemed particularly off about you this time around. Sure, you were always on edge and fidgety whenever he talked about his experiments or anything having to do with his time in the lab, but he always figured you were just especially squeamish about that sort of thing. Not everyone could stomach that topic, after all. Although after some time and a little bit of reflection he realized that wasn’t and couldn’t logically be the case, at least not to that extent. 

He’d approached you about it beforehand but you brushed him off, remarked how it was nothing important and he needn’t waste his time with something such as that. Sadly that only furthered his concern and suspicions. Realistically if it were any other person he wouldn’t have cared half as much as he did with you, but he truly was stuck on the subject, and he was sure he could fix that problem of yours somehow. 

It was early morning, around two in the morning when Dottore managed to slip back into your shared room. He’d barely acknowledged your presence until he’d heard you slowly sitting upright in the bed to look at him.

“Long night?” You asked gently, a smile curving the corners of your mouth.

“Mmnh.” He replied. 

You made a spot for him on the bed as you watched him with half-lidded eyes. He slowly dragged his feet over to his side of the bed and climbed in, laying back and putting his arms behind his head with a groan of relief. He closed his eyes to rest his eyes before the inevitable happened, but of course, you were quite the chatterbox anytime he returned to you. 

“So..”  You trailed off. “How was it?”

His eyes remained close but his brows furrowed. “It was fine.” He paused, debating whether he should ask now or until after he’d had some rest. Ultimately deciding to ask anyway. “And you?” 

You snuggled underneath the covers and let a hand rest on his chest slightly. “It was okay, nothin’ special.” 

There was a comfortable silence hanging in the air before Dottore promptly decided to destroy it.

“I’d like you to come by the lab tomorrow.” He said firmly, his voice confident enough that it worried you.

Your hands trembled.

“Why?” Your voice shook as you turned to look at Dottore.

He sighed. “You’ve yet to have an exam since your arrival here and it’s about that time anyway.” 

Your fear was palpable, nearly making his own heart race. He could feel the way your body locked up upon hearing his request, or rather his demand. For, there was no way he was going to allow you to back out of it this time. It wasn’t a total lie, you did need a proper exam, especially considering the behavior you’d been exhibiting since joining the Fatui. You’d been unusually skittish around the subject of his work, a fact that Dottore used to methodically put the pieces together. He knew before he even asked the question what your aversion to his lab truly meant. 

He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. “I’ll send two segments to escort you in the afternoon, that should give you more than enough time to prepare.”

Silence.

“I understand this is quite uncomfortable but–” You quickly cut him off, something you’d never done. 

“No, Dottore, you don’t understand and quite frankly I don’t think you ever will.” You spat back.

Silence. This time the tension was thick, the atmosphere filled with uneasiness. Granted if he’d know you’d get so heated about it he would’ve never brought it up moments before the two of you were supposed to sleep. Neither of you were going to bed anytime soon. Oh how he regretted his decision. Perhaps the segment was right, but he’d never admit to that. Not a chance in hell. Although in hindsight he wished he’d thought this through a bit more before running headfirst into whatever happened at that moment. Upon first instinct he wanted to prove you wrong, state how it was something he could in time learn to understand, but he stopped himself. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but something made him stop and think about his next words carefully. 

“Well, enlighten me.” He replied, sitting upright to look you in the eyes. 

Usually he’d grin as he’d said those words but this time it was absent, and instead he looked like someone who wanted to learn. It was odd and unnerving to see him like that, but I guess it was his way of trying to comfort you. 

“I just…” You averted your eyes and looked at your hands before returning your gaze back to Dottore. “I.. don’t like doctors. I don’t.. trust them.” You admitted. Now, too anxious to look at him at all. 

Oh. How awkward, Dottore thought. 

“Hmm, I see.” He replied.

Another agonizing moment of silence. 

You fidgeted with your fingers, cracking your knuckles nervously. Your breathing gradually grew rapid as the memories and thoughts poisoned your mind like a dangerous disease. Fuck, how you hated it when you got like this. You remembered the words they said, the actions they took, the insane amount of times you endured the same fucking test. You remembered… everything, and you hated that the most. Squeezing your eyes shut you tried to will those thoughts and images away as tears rolled down your cheeks, but alas it was useless. 

Dottore placed a hand over your own, pausing for a second before rubbing circles against your skin with his thumb. It seemed to rip you from your turmoil momentarily, but it did not erase it. The sensation was comforting, more so than the other things he pushed himself to do in order to comfort you. Neither of you said anything, especially not Dottore. He didn’t want to risk saying something rude or offensive, or putting you in an even worse state, which was very likely. The silence consoled you in a way, rocking you into a peaceful sleepy state. So much so, that you let your guard down long enough to wipe away your tears and curl up in a ball beside Dottore. 

He was hesitant at first but ultimately chose to wrap a single arm around you. Dottore held you as if you were the most fragile of glass. It was as if he was terrified of shattering you and in a way he definitely was. Finally, you let your guard down long enough to hide, rest your head against Dottore’s chest and allow the tears to flow freely. Had it been anyone else he would’ve been incredibly uncomfortable, wouldn’t even consider doing what he did, but you were.. different. He wondered if he should say something, if a reassuring word would be beneficial in a moment like that, research would back that idea but he chose against it. Dottore couldn’t possibly risk ruining what little peace you could experience at that time. At the very least he owed you that small moment of relief, no matter how brief it was. 

He waited until you were fast asleep, curled up nice and close in his arms, then he brushed away a stray strand of your hair and tucked it behind your ear. Dottore glanced up at the door then back to you, smiling at you adoringly before kissing your forehead. He’d have to talk more about this with you tomorrow, and thoroughly, too. Dottore had planned on getting you to the lab whether you wanted to or not, but for some reason he had a change of heart. Maybe, it wouldn’t hurt to give you a day or two more to prepare, that was more than feasible, he thought.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Study Buddies

isaac lahey x reader

summary: isaac asks you for help in chemistry. you agree on one condition.

tags: high school, studying / tutoring, mutual crushes, awkward flirting, caught in a lie, shyness, embarrassment, play fighting / tickling, bad puns, confessions, first kiss, teasing, fluff, pre-wolf isaac; his dad still sucks; autistic-coded reader

word count: 4.5k

a/n: this is my first time writing for teen wolf. I feel like I'm encroaching on claimed territory. 😅 also i've had this tab up for almost a week but have been afraid to post it, so here goes

Mr. Harris slides your progress report down onto your desk before you have a chance to react, and it catches wind and falls to the ground a moment later. You sigh and roll your eyes, but he’s already halfway across the room, impatiently handing out the rest of his stack. Your own little slip of paper is nowhere by your feet, and you resist the urge to make a remark about it. 

“Hey.” A voice interrupts your intruding thoughts at the same time a tap lands on your shoulder. Gentle, as if the tapper hates to disturb you, yet needs your attention. 

You turn, and temporarily forget about your lost report as your eyes meet Isaac’s, the boy who sits behind you, and has the cutest smile imaginable. You drop your gaze instantly, only for it to fall on his dimpled smile, and then, finally, on the paper held between two fingers. 

“I think this is yours,” he says, holding it out to you. 

Your name is clearly printed on the front, followed by your most recent grades in the class. You blush, immediately remembering it had dropped in the first place. 

“Oh. Thank you.”

“No problem. He seems like he’s in a mood today.” 

You nod, then take your paper from his hand. By this time, Harris has made his way back to the front, and is clearing his throat in a demand for the class’ silence. Quiet mutterings amongst friends cease at once, and you turn back to face the ill-tempered chemistry teacher. 

“Take a good look at your progress reports. The midterm is coming up, and some of you have more studying to do than others. Today, we will be learning new material, but next class period, we will have a review day. If you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask. You can ask at the appropriate time in class, or come see me after school, or shoot me an email. Regardless of your grade, everyone should be studying, however, some of you have to move up a whole letter or two. That is on you to be aware of, and for you to put in the effort to do. Now, pull out your notes so that we can cover this section. It isn’t the hardest thing we’ll cover, but I expect it will be a struggle for some.”

And after that condescending introduction, he begins to teach. 

When the bell finally rings, your head is swarming with so much chemistry, your eyes are beginning to glaze over and put you to sleep. You’re relatively good at the subject, but that topic was more challenging than he warned it would be, making even you confused at times. You shake your head when you reach your lockers, trying to relieve yourself of the numbers swirling about in your mind. It takes a moment. A very stressful moment. 

A tap on your shoulder, more urgent than the last, pulls you out of your mental headspace. The chemistry bounces out of your mind entirely, bringing you back to reality, but making you jump in place at the sudden contact.

“Sorry,” a familiar voice apologies, “didn’t mean to scare you.”

Turning, you come face-to-face with Isaac again. His normally bright blue eyes are slightly cloudy, which worries you more than you’d like to admit. “No worries. Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I have a question, actually, to ask you.”

“What’s that?”

“Okay, I wasn’t looking at your report, I didn’t mean to see your grades. I accidentally saw them when I picked up your paper, but I promise I wasn’t looking on purpose.” He stalls, continuously apologizing for something not at any fault of his own. 

“It’s okay,” you interrupt as politely as you can. 

He pauses, “um. I was wondering if you could help me? Like, in chemistry. Help me study, kinda like a tutor, I guess?”

You pale immediately. Just because you’re doing okay in the class doesn’t mean you have a clue how to help him understand. “Um-”

“Just… I just need a little help, if you can. I understand if you don’t want to, or can’t, or… I don’t know… are busy.” He runs his tongue along his lips nervously. You snap your eyes to the floor, avoiding eye contact. 

“I don’t know… I’m not a good teacher.”

“But you’re really good in the class. Probably a better teacher than Harris has been lately.”

You chuckle, but you’re still not sure. Being that close to the boy you’ve liked for ages? On top of not being able to teach well? He’ll reduce you to a stupid, stuttering mess, just look at yourself now, unable to look him in the eye. No, don’t look at him, that was rhetorical. 

“I just,” he continues, “when he was talking about people who needed to go up a whole letter, he was talking about me. I know you’re good, you sit in front of me. If you can even just explain it to me as you study, it would help a lot.”

Half of your mind races to find an excuse, looking for an out, while the other begs you to agree. Isaac shoves a hand in his pocket and waits for a response. You debate with yourself for a moment, but then the urging part of your mind wins the argument with a question of its own. 

“What about this,” you start, “I’ll help you in chemistry, if you help me in French?”

“What?” He asks, taken off guard. “I’m not good at French.”

“You’re better than me. You have the answers to most of Ms. Morrell’s questions, and I can hear you when she asks us to recite words out loud.” His eyes narrow at that, to which you reply, “you sit behind me in French, too.”

“Right.” He smiles, but doesn’t meet your gaze. Instead, he rests his head against the locker beside yours. 

“So?”

“How do you know I’m not just guessing?”

“What’s your grade?”

“A,” he sheepishly answers.

“See? You can tutor me.”

“What’s your grade?”

You purse your lips and avoid his eyes again. “Too embarrassed to say.”

“Really?”

“Languages aren’t my strong suit. We all have our strengths.”

“Alright, deal. Help me in chem, and I’ll help you with French.”

“Sounds good. Library, or at one of our houses?”

“I can probably go to the library sometimes. Maybe during lunch or free period. But after school, I have lacrosse, and you probably don’t want to wait around school for that to be over.”

“Okay, so then your house or mine?”

“Where do you live?”

“Like ten minutes from here. You?”

“A bit closer than that. Parents?”

“Don’t really care what I do.”

“My dad is a little controlling,” he admits. 

“Would he care if I were to come over?”

“Not if you’re helping me study.”

“Okay. You want to meet a couple times a week at your house, and sometimes during lunch?”

“Sure. Practice ends around five. Is seven too late?”

“Not for me.”

“Cool. So, um, I’ll text you, and we can plan dates.” He shakes his head. “I mean, like, what days work best.”

You blush at his embarrassment. “Have to give you my number first, doofus.” 

“Oh.”

You scribble it onto a sticky note and hand it to him. “Let me know.”

“I will. And thank you.”

“Thank you, too.” You hurry your way to your next class, leaving him red in the face and hands at having a girl’s number. Granted, it’s just for studying, but it’s the fact he was able to talk to you at all that has him shaken. Isaac forces himself to breathe, before entering it in his phone and tucking the sticky safely in his backpack. As the bell rings, he hurries to his next class. 

~~~~

The next evening is the first time you meet up to study. You drive to the address he’s given and knock on the door as gently as possible. Isaac had mentioned his dad is controlling, so the first thing you want to do is to avoid pissing him off in any way you could. Controlling could mean a lot of things, and the boy wasn’t specific at all. For both of your sakes, you tread lightly. 

Isaac opens the door a moment later, dressed in a simple t-shirt and sweats. You try really hard not to blush as he invites you inside, but then his dad’s strict voice snaps you back into reality. You can see Isaac take a visible deep breath before rounding the corner in the kitchen, you in tow. You put on your best look of professionalism while trying to anticipate how the next couple of minutes might go. 

“And? Who was it?”

“Y/N, the girl I told you I was studying with… with whom I am going to study,” he corrects at the last minute. 

His father’s posture tenses a bit less when his son corrects his own grammar without prompt, but it doesn’t stop his cold eyes from floating over to you. “And you’re studying what?”

“Chemistry, sir. I’m helping Isaac, and he’s helping me with French.”

“And you know French well enough to help her?”

“I believe I do,” he says, trying to sound confident. 

“I think he does, too. In class, he always has the answers, and Mrs. Morrell’s often impressed, and she’s hard to impress more than once.”

“Hm.” His dad takes a sip from a glass, then carefully sets it down on the table. His eyes are locked on Isaac the whole time. The boy stares at the ground, any confidence shaken by the interaction. You study the scene, confused. “Well… Go study. Bring up those grades.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply at the same time. 

Isaac nods for you to follow him to his room, which you oblige. His dad remains seated as you make your way up the stairs. You bite back a comment about the man, even in the safety of Isaac’s bedroom, and he doesn’t say anything, either. The same remark is in both your heads, yet while you want to ask it in a question, he wants to use it as a reassurance. Yes, he’s a bit more controlling than Isaac originally said. No, he won’t do anything stupid while you're there. He tries to convey this in an expression, which you half-understand, but eventually drop it. If anything happens, you’ll leave. Simple as that. 

As it turns out, the first night of you studying together ends up nothing like the initial interaction you had in his house. Isaac is gentle, patient, and willing to learn and teach the best that he can. He’s admittedly worse in chemistry than you are in French, but you’re able to convince him that you only need to work on a few things; an hour of time doesn’t have to be devoted to your studies, maybe only twenty minutes. On the contrary, the other sixty are put towards chemistry. And, of course, the first five are for settling in, and the last five are for uncontrollable laughter at a mispronunciation. 

Thirty minutes to nine, you realize how late it’s gotten and start to pack your things. Isaac looks exhausted, and frankly, as much as you’re enjoying his company, you’re getting tired from talking. 

“Voulez-vous qu’on se rencontre vendredi?” He asks, rather quickly. 

You stare for a moment, then, “what?”

“Vendredi.”

“Thursday?”

“Non.”

“Friday?”

“Oui, rencontrer?”

“Meet then?”

“Yeah, would you like to?”

“Sure.” You nod. “Say it again?”

“Voulez-vous qu’on se rencontre vendredi?” He says it slower this time. It has the same effect on you, but you can comprehend each word better. 

“Cool,” you say, not at all thinking about his accent that paints the words so beautifully. “I’ll bring my H2O, since I forgot it this time.”

The boy snorts with more laughter. “Bad joke.”

“Absolutely horrible,” you agree. “See you in school tomorrow.”

“Drive safe.”

“Be safe,” you reply before you can stop yourself, referring to his dad downstairs. 

Isaac only nods. He walks you to his front door, then hurries back up to his room. 

~~~~

Each day you study together follows a similar routine to the first: five minutes to settle in, sixty of chemistry, twenty of French, then five of joking around with each other. Sometimes Isaac pushes for thirty of French instead, worried that you’re sacrificing your own studies for his, and never understands when you push back that you’re good with only twenty. 

His chemistry improves immensely with your help. In three weeks, he manages to pull it up to a ‘C’. Not only is his father a bit more lenient to him after the next progress report, but he’s also more pleasant to you the next time you come around to study. He even cracks a smile. 

Today, you go over just the same as you have been. Seven on the dot, you’re greeted by his dimpled smile and half-friendly father. The man has now graduated to welcoming you, and has once clapped you on the shoulder as you’ve passed. You’re polite to him, though you can tell Isaac’s uncomfortable with his unusual behavior, so you always try to retreat upstairs as soon as possible. This time, he’s busy with something in the kitchen and doesn’t talk for long. He makes one comment about grades; you promise him you’re both doing well, then he lets you go. 

Finally away, it doesn’t take long for you to settle down anymore. You make yourself comfortable on Isaac’s bed, pulling out your notes and pens, and smiling when he joins you. You’ve come to be good friends in the last couple weeks, and although there’s something definitely in the air, too, you’re good with being friends if that’s all you can convince yourselves you are. 

You start, per usual, with chemistry, reading over notes and figuring out problems. He moves closer and closer to you each day you teach, simultaneously making you nervous and excited. Either way, your water bottle remains beside you to calm your ever-growing heart rate. When it comes time to switch subjects, you excuse yourself a minute to recover and prepare for the next half hour. In the beginning, it was easier to hide your blush, promising you’re still getting the hang of the co-teaching thing. Now, your excuse dwindles. The shy smile you wear as he recites words of the love language has never faded. You have to compose yourself entirely, elsewhere, to be able to control your reaction and face him. 

“Can I use your bathroom real quick?”

“Yeah, just over there.”

“Thanks.”

As soon as the door shuts, Isaac jumps off the bed to check his hair in the mirror. In the process, your French binder falls to the ground and loses its page. The boy sighs, mutters an ‘oh shit,’ then pulls it back up to find the page again. He opens the flap and immediately finds a stash of old progress reports. You seem to keep all of your old ones in the front flap of your binder; he’s noticed you have all your chemistry reports, too. Curious, Isaac steals a peek. Despite confessing about his ‘D’ in chemistry, you’ve always cheekily refused to share your French grade. He doubts it’s that bad, but he’s never gotten you to admit it. 

He glances at the bathroom door, then checks the date on the report before scanning the grades. Guilt eats at him the longer he looks, but nosiness, then confusion keeps his eyes glued. Is he really reading that right? There’s no way you have a-

“Sorry about that,” you say, closing the door. 

Startled, he drops your binder and looks up at you. “It’s no worry.”

“What’s wrong?” You notice his change in behavior, like a young boy being caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing. 

“Nothing. Your binder fell off the bed, I was picking it up.”

“Oh. Thanks.” He smiles when you join him back on the bed. You’re not sure if you still have a right to be suspicious, or if he’s just embarrassed because he’s so shy. “So, um-”

Isaac, on the other hand, is brimming with questions. As anxious as he is that you caught him peeking, he can’t help but wonder about what he saw. You start to speak, maybe to change the subject, but he cuts you off, guilt and curiosity both winning. “You have an ‘A’ in French?”

“What?”

“You’ve had an ‘A’ since the start of the year. Why do you need me to tutor you if you already know it?”

You shut your open mouth immediately, face paling at the realization you’ve been caught. “I-... I don’t know. Your grades are better than mine.”

“By one point.”

“Two points. You have a 94. I have a 92.”

“Doesn’t explain the need for a tutor,” he argues.

You study him, choosing to base your reaction off his own. He’s smiling; seemingly happy, curious, and not at all upset. His tone implies no accusation, just confusion, and his body posture is straight, shoulders relaxed. A twinkle shines in his baby blue eyes; his level of eye contact is neither constant nor avoidant. He’s safe. 

“I, um,” you decide to tell him the truth. Or, rather, stutter out the truth. “I don’t need a French tutor.”

“So I’ve gathered.” Decisive tone, yet still friendly. Still safe. 

“I figured, since I would help you with chemistry, even though I’m not that good of a teacher, if you had to teach me something too, it would put less pressure on me to be a good teacher.”

His eyes narrow. “Okay… but why French?” He’s still a little confused on that reasoning, but doesn’t question it. He knows you’re shy. If that’s what you had to do to make it work that you could help him, he doesn’t mind. 

“I, er, well, the French provided a win-win scenario.”

“Which is?”

You shrug, body warming quickly as you near your deeply guarded secret. “I- I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Mhm, really?”

“You’re best in French,” you offer instead, on a whim.

“True,” he agrees, “though I feel that’s not the real reason, judging by your lack of eye contact.”

“I’m always bad at eye contact.”

“You’ve been getting better with me these last few weeks.”

“Yes, but…”

“I’m not going to judge, Y/N. Whatever you say, it’s safe with me. You trust me, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then how is me teaching you French a, as you call it, win-win scenario?”

Finally, you fess, “because I get to hear you speak it every time you teach me.”

Isaac’s quiet for a moment. Then, you realize it seems to have gone over his head as he says, “you hear me speak all the time in class.”

“Yeah, but… with twenty other voices mixed in, too. I like hearing just your voice. The way you know just how to sound it out perfectly, and the way your accent flourishes each sentence. Most people in class sound like they’re gurgling saltwater, but you make it sound hot, like the way French is supposed to sound.” Your mouth utters words before your brain can catch up and prevent you from embarrassment. As soon as you realize what you’ve said, a dizziness swarms your head and it feels like the temperature’s gone up ten degrees. 

Isaac is speechless in front of you. He’s first stuck on the fact that you like his voice, then on his pronunciation being described as perfect, but then he short-circuits as the word ‘hot’ falls from your lips. He doesn’t even realize when you plant your face into your binder, shocked by your own confession. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. It’s muffled, but he hears it enough to pull him from his trance. 

“You like my voice?” He asks, cursing himself for the stupidity of the question. It’s all he can think of to say, though, still trying to cool his own rising body temperature. 

“I shouldn’t have said all that, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I wasn’t thinking.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” he blurts out quickly. “I’m actually quite charmed by that.”

You resist the urge to look up at him, desperate to see if he’s smiling or not. Isaac seems to have a similar thought, and tries to hook a finger under your chin to lift your head. He succeeds, but then you instantly embarrass again, and dive for the pillows, burying your face amongst them. 

“Oh no, get back here,” he jokes. You feel him before you look out to see him. His hands shake your shoulder, but when you don’t respond, he playfully starts to tickle your neck. You scrunch and try to scramble away, but he only continues. “C’mon.”

“I can’t!” The words have finally sunken into his head; the weight of them falls on your chest. 

“Oh, yes you can!” He teases more, moving pillows away from you, just for you to grab another and bury back under it. When Isaac realizes there’s no use in trying to win the pillow war, he swings a leg over yours and begins to tickle your stomach. Your shirt has begun to ride up from your movement, and temporarily, he forgets you’re classmates, not longtime best friends. “C’mon, give it up!”

“I-I can’t!” You’re running out of breath, and pillows. He pulls another away from you, then puts his hands back on your sides. Your eyes are squeezed shut, but only do you open them because of the unfamiliar feeling of him touching you. A beat skips in your heart at the sudden, unexpected realization that he’s not only touching your skin, but he’s also straddling your waist. You swallow hard. He pinches your side lightly, shocking you back into reality, and making you grab another pillow to hide your face again. Before you can grasp it, Isaac grabs your hands and pins them above your head. You pant, heart racing a mile a minute. His too, as you can hear in the moment you both grow quiet. 

“You think it’s hot when I speak French?”

“No, I think you’re hot when you speak French. There’s a difference.”

“Is there now?”

“The temperature of the room doesn’t get hot, it’s you that gets hot.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Not that you’re not always hot… I mean, sometimes, you’re more like a cute little puppy than a hot, French-speaking…” your words fade as your brain catches up, faster this time, yet still not fast enough. 

“Am I now?”

What’s done is done, you figure. Can’t take it back now, can only admit it. “Yeah.”

“Huh. So all this time, you’ve been teaching me chemistry, and I’ve been talking pointlessly while you listen and learn nothing?”

“When you word it like that, it sounds bad.” A pout graces your lips as guilt floods you. “But I have learned some things. I was struggling with direct objects, and now I’m not.”

“Ah. So I’m not totally useless?”

“Never. You wouldn’t be useless even if I knew perfect French.” Before he can reply, you continue. “I’m sorry I wasted your time. I shouldn’t have. Can you forgive me?”

“Forgive you for what? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I wasted your time when we could’ve been doing more chemistry.”

“Darling, too much chemistry and my brain woulda exploded. The French lessons are a nice intermission. Besides, I wouldn’t consider any time with you as time wasted.”

“Really?”

He drops your hands and they fall back down to your waist. He seems, then, to realize he’s still on top of you, and begins to climb off. “Sorry, I-”

“Don’t.”

“What?”

“Can I confess something else?”

He pauses. “Sure, anything.”

“I would’ve been okay with just tutoring you chemistry, but I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to look you in the eye long enough to do it well.”

“You’ve been doing great with the eye contact thing. I know it’s not your strong suit, but you’ve made a lot of progress these last couple weeks.”

“Thank you,” you smile. “It’s not only that.” A heartbeat passes. “I like you.”

“You like me?” His eyes narrow before he assumes only, “you like my voice.”

“No, I like you. I mean, yes, I like your voice, but I like it because I like you.”

“Like me, as in…”

“Like I have a crush on you.”

He tilts his head like a confused dog. “On me?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Why do you seem so surprised?”

“I’ve never had anyone have a crush on me before,” he admits.

Now you’re confused. “What?! How?!”

“I don’t know!”

“That’s stupid. Never had anyone admit it, maybe.”

“I’d never know.”

“Well I’ve had a crush on you since the seventh grade.”

“You moved to Beacon Hills in the seventh grade.”

“Exactly.”

“And you’ve had a crush on me this whole time?”

“Very secretly.”

“Huh. Well I’ve liked you since the first day of school,” he confesses.

“I’ve liked you since orientation, so I win.”

He smiles, then shakes his head playfully. “So I sit behind you in classes for years and only finally get the courage to talk to you when I’m borderline failing chemistry, and you only get the courage to talk to me for more than one minute if you can convince me to talk half of the time that we’d be studying together.”

“Sounds about right.”

“And my portion of the talking is in French, because you think my accent is hot?”

“Your accent is always hot; your French is hot on its own.”

“Ah, I’m following now.” He chuckles, letting his fingertips grace your hips. 

“So,” you ask, “as two people with several year long mutual crushes on each other, what do we do next?”

“Well you’re the one that’s been tutoring me chemistry, love, I’m hoping you have the answer.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes playfully. “Wrong kind of chemistry, dork.” You reach your hands up to the sides of his face anyway, and pull him down for a kiss. Isaac complies immediately, setting one hand down beside you, while the other caresses your chin. Your legs hook around his waist, keeping him close until he starts to pull away, needing air. You let go, then hide your face as his own turns a rosy pink. 

“That was worth the wait,” he says, smiling, and touching a finger to his recently-kissed lips. “Êtes-vous d'accord?” 

“Shut up,” you tease, pushing him slightly. “Chemistry time.”

“We just had chemistry time. It’s French time now.”

“No, we can skip a round,” you insist, unsure you can hear anymore French fall from his lips without folding and kissing them again.

“On the contrary, I think you need to sharpen your vocabulary.”

“I think I’ll need a water break first.”

“That we can do,” he agrees. “I’ll make sure to get yours with extra ice.”

“Shush!”

[noisettecafe]

♡Introduction post!♡

(Please read before interacting with this blog!)

Hiya! This is a Noisette RP/parody askblog. This introduction will be out of character, as I believe it'd be more fun for you guys to learn more about Noisette as the blog goes on.

First things first, my name is Truffle. Please use they/he to refer to me if you are not talking to/about Noisette. I will put a proper introduction to myself later on, as the rules and boundaries of this blog are more important.

Rules/boundaries/imporant information (I will most likely add more in the future)

I am a minor, so please do not interact with me if you are an NSFW blog. And I will not respond to NSFW asks. Suggestive jokes are fine, but straight-up NSFW will be ignored (and the person who posted the ask will be blocked if they're not anonymous).

I'm a bit new to tumblr, so I'm not very good at it yet. Just be patient, I'll figure things out eventually.

Do not interact with this blog if you are/support any of the following: pr*ship/c*mship, zooph*le, p*dophile, l*li/sh*tacon, or bigoted in any way. (I censored the nasty words so that this post doesn't show up in search results for those words)

I am autistic, so I might not understand certain things and might have difficulties with explaining myself properly, leading to some of my sentences to be a little incomprehensible, and my tone to come off more harsh than what I intended. If something like that occurs, please let me know so that I can try to explain myself again. English is also not my first language, making communication even harder for me. Please be patient with me.

Please keep in mind that this blog might contain triggering or upsetting subject matters, such as s*lf h*rm and mental illness, as well as ships that some may not agree with.

Please don't spam my askbox. I most likely won't be able to respond to all asks for multiple reasons. Please do not be upset if I don't answer an ask from you. If you really need an answer from me, don't spam me. Wait a while before asking again, and if I don't respond a second time, then that's my answer.

Just don't be weird in general. Again, weird jokes are allowed, but don't be too extreme.

I often lose motivation for a while, but I'll make sure to make a proper post if I need to take a long hiatus.

I'll mostly be doing sprite edits instead of drawing, but I might draw for this blog a few times.

Noisette is a bit of a self insert in this blog, meaning that she'll have similar issues and thought processes to myself, as well as looking slightly similar to myself.

OCs are of course allowed to interact with the characters! Just please don't beg me to draw them. I will if I want to.

Fanart is allowed and very appreciated, of course!

Introduction to the mod

Again, my name is Truffle. I am nonbinary (they/he). I will use blue text and an out of character tag while talking out of character, but I might forget to sometimes. I don't know if I even need to clarify this, but the way I act in character is much different from the way I act as a person. My name is totally not a reference to the Truffle NPC from Terraria sweats nervously.. I might use characters from other franchises as background characters hehehe

And once again, I cannot stress this enough:

Don't be weird.

♡I think that's all, I'll update this if I need to!♡

[artsyjesseblue]

Slowly Going Mad - Part III - Lotor

This is the third installment of my meta series discussing three essential characters of Voltron:Legendary Defender (Zarkon, Honerva and Lotor) and their gradual mental state transitions throughout the show. After writing the first two parts, I’ve debated whether to publish Lotor’s segment or not, due to the emotional triggers this analysis might raise. I decided to go ahead and post it, because I’d love to create a coherent, complete set of essays, but…

We will descend into some sensitive issues (trauma, mental illness) regarding a controversial character, so if you would prefer to steer clear of it, please do so, for your own peace of mind. I know it has been almost five years since the show ended and many of us prefer to leave certain subjects behind. So, if you consider best to scroll past, do so. Hopefully, the warning tags will also provide a firewall around it.

Alright, if you clicked past the stop sign, hop along! And thank you for reading!

The purpose of this analysis is to demonstrate that Lotor’s trajectory towards Season 6 follows a mental illness arc, slowly built up, although the reveal of his backstory arrives to us pretty much… backwards. I will enter into subjects such as developmental psychology, coping mechanisms, transactional analysis (TA) and what it means to reach the dam breaking moment.

His sudden, shocking descent into madness in S6 is achieved through subtle context throughout S3-S6. Couple that context with the backstory dropped in S8 and a larger picture will form. This analysis intends to get granular at times, because the psychology of his path lies in the sum of many details.

Here are a few highlights that define a madness arc:

the originating point of the mental affliction: it can be a defeat, a failure, a loss, grief, a dark influence.

recurrent traumas and/or abuse throughout the character’s life, slowly building up.

the traumas and losses of the past haunt the character.

deterioration of connections with family, friends, community, and finally self. Broken connections lead to paranoia and isolation, which feed the vicious cycle.

as the story progresses, the character’s arc reaches a boiling point.

at this critical point, the individual faces a moment of agency and in a tragic mental breakdown, chooses madness. Whatever breaks the dam is a world-shattering event: extreme grief, total loss of loved ones, closest allies and friends, the breach of trust towards the world, or a combination of these. The character will try to fix the world and/or revenge against the ones who did this.

I’ll approach Lotor’s story the same way I did with the other two: chronologically, which means I’ll jump back and forth among episodes, because Lotor’s backstory is also scrambled across the seasons.

Similar mention as with Honerva and Zarkon’s metas:

1) The distinction between the entity and quintessence. The entity is a creature capable of magical stuff, whereas quintessence is a substance (highest known potency in the universe).

2) Shiro’s statement: “Zarkon fell prey to his own evil instincts. The quintessence field didn’t create them, it revealed them.” - it basically casts the responsibility on the character, not on external factors.

BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD

We’ll begin with the days of Honerva’s pregnancy. I already analyzed these parts in Honerva’s meta, so I’ll summarize. Pregnant Honerva shows distorted cheek marks and visible changing of her appearance: gray, unkempt hair, aged countenance, sagging shoulders. Parallel that to Kova, whose appearance changed after the rift entities attacked, and we deduce that Honerva’s metamorphosis might be due to the same kind of illness.

When Honerva falls ill and starts having what seem to be withdrawal symptoms, she demands to go into the rift to get quintessence, because “we must have it” / [we must] “get back into the rift”. The deduction I made was that the entity was actually the one speaking, because - other than the entity - nobody had ever been into the rift before, so “going back” into the rift is something that only the entity could have asked for. Logically, that means Honerva was possessed/infected with the entity.

—————————————————

And this turns our attention to… baby Lotor:

S8E2 “Shadows”: “Sire, the birth was difficult, but successful. Your son is healthy and in good shape, though we seem to be getting some strange readings coming from him directly. Similar to those that, well… Similar to those of the empress and… yourself.”

And voila, I think that makes quite a strong argument that Lotor was born with the entity, which gives him a unique position among other characters. In the same scene, the doctor talks about Honerva’s state: “She only seems to become aware when we administer her quintessence. I’m hopeful her condition will improve with time, but… Sire, we’re gonna have to face the fact that our quintessence supplies are finite. The empire cannot continue to run on what we have. And you, and the Empress, without it… you’ll—”

I’m circling back to Kova, which was also revived only after administering him quintessence, and now it’s clear that these “space vampires” cannot survive without the Q life juice.

Which leads me to an interesting question: did Lotor also need quintessence to survive? The answer seems to lead to a no. For the extended period of time when he stayed in Allura’s castle, either as a prisoner or working together with the Paladins, he did not show any signs of… quintessence withdrawal. As the EPs described him, quintessence is part of his DNA. Without divulging anything about the entity, since this interview took place right after S5, here’s their description (Source: AfterBuzz TV S5 interview - link in comments, since external links here seem to affect the visibility of the post):

JDS: It’s pretty safe to say that Lotor’s got that Daywalker kind of thing going on.

Interviewer: Little Vampire.

LM: Being in…in her womb, as [Honerva] was being exposed to all of this quintessence - it’s part of his DNA. It almost puts him on a level with Allura, pretty much how her quintessence is a part of her DNA. So it’s interesting to see.

Armed with this information, let’s move through the buildup of events that show us Lotor’s backstory, before we see him for the first time in Season 3.

In S8E2, which I’ll quote for a while, because it holds the bulk of Lotor’s early years, we first see baby Lotor right after his birth, rejected by Honerva. Similarly, Zarkon’s paternal instincts are almost abolished. He abruptly orders the doctor: “Take him away.”

The complete lack of empathy for the little nugget gives us just a hint into what this child will go through as he grows up.

——————————————

The next time we meet him, he’s an adorable, tiny school boy, whose stature is below Galra lineage expectations, but as a counterbalance, Dayak points out his remarkable skills and intelligence: he completed the Agotian trials successfully, even though they were advanced for his age. Also, his tactical scores are they highest they’ve ever measured. (Tactical scores, hehe. We know he’s going to become a good tactician later in life; it’s his natural inclination, clearly.)

As Dayak proudly finishes the short account of her pupil, little Lotor speaks up: “All I do, I do in the name of Galra.” I found this little statement quite significant, especially in the context of his education. It comes to show how deep the Galra values are ingrained in his character. It is his pledge of allegiance, something that he must have repeated over and over along his school years. Repetitio est mater studiorum.

It’s absolutely heartbreaking to see the innocent boy with big, amethyst eyes and a burning desire to connect to his family be coldly dismissed by his own father - an expressionless, emotionless parent who wants to remove his “impurities”, simply because the little boy desires to know more about his mixed race genealogy and he dares to “speak out of his place”. The dynamic between father and son is revelatory not only for the brutality with which the little boy is treated by his own family, but, in contrast, we also get to see the enthusiasm and positive energy exuding from little Lotor, who, despite his father’s lack of empathy and mercy, still holds hope that he can somehow reason with him.

Dayak’s last reply to Zarkon feels painful on many levels: “He will be punished accordingly. We will sear him down to his inner fire so that he may burn the universe.” Whether she wants it or not, Dayak’s crop must inflict pain, lest she loses her job and probably her life.

Let’s shortly bring into focus the apparently hilarious moments between Dayak and Hunk.

The training is about pain, and what pain teaches an individual. “For the mind to learn, the body must be broken.” Palen-bol, meaning “the enlightening pain”, is the Galran way of learning. “The Galra believe combat is the searing light that burns imperfections of every level, from personal to societal.”

Now, imagine Lotor going through the “enlightening pain”, day by day, year after year, palen-bol after palen-bol. My smile upon seeing Hunk’s comedy soon fades away into a desolate expression. What Hunk basically learns is to contort himself into various unnatural poses, to avoid the painful whips of Dayak. When he finally gets it, she congratulates him: “very good”. In order to avoid the searing pain, he must find creative solutions out, solutions that are not always straight paths. Like a tree that grows distorted shapes in a hostile environment, so does one who lives in constant fear and pain.

TEEN LOTOR

The next significant moment in Lotor’s evolution is somewhere during his early teenage years.

Pay attention to certain verbal repetitions, as Lotor borrows from his father’s language. Also, the Kova scene leads to some interesting conclusions. I’m quoting the entire scene, for better understanding.

Officer: “Sire, your audience is requested in the Kandar wing.”

Lotor: “Father, may I accompany you?”

Zarkon: “You will stay here.”

Lotor: “But I want to join you. I have learned much of our—”

Zarkon: “You are an insolent boy. You may be the prince, but I am your emperor.”

Lotor silently yields, saluting solemnly, but casting a contemptuous look in his wake. After Zarkon has cleared the room, Lotor refocuses on Kova and instantly cheers up. As the boy is leaning over to pet the cat, Haggar suddenly speaks:

“Do not touch him. He will hurt you.”

With a sneer, the boy ignores her. After petting the cat, he asks: “What is his name?”

Haggar: “He has no name.”

Lotor: “Then I shall name it. Your name will be…”

Haggar: “Kova. His name is Kova.”

Lotor, giggling, watching Kova climb over his shoulders: “This creature pleases me. It will be mine.”

Haggar, attempting to protest: “My lord…”

Lotor: “You may be the high priestess, but I am your prince, and you will do as I say. Isn’t that right, Kova?”

Haggar acquiesces: “Yes, my lord.”

So, although years have passed since the scene with Dayak, Lotor is still speaking “out of his place”, which earns him the title of an “insolent boy”.

Despite (most likely) repeated physical punishments along the years, notice how his enthusiasm for life and learning new things is still there, brightly sparkling in his eyes, as he offers to go with his father at important meetings. He is jovial towards his father, as if expecting him to - one day - reciprocate that cordiality, perhaps? This little soul harbors a lot of love and forgiveness, that is for sure!

Despite Zarkon’s stony-hearted reaction towards him, he pouts only as an immediate reflex, but then he cheers himself up by petting Kova.

His impish pout and little frown behind his father’s back foreshadow a future scene - when Zarkon will return to the throne, sending Lotor away. A more refined smirk will cross his face as he’ll depart, hiding behind it a more complex scheme than a teenager’s little mischief, but that scene shall be discussed further when I’ll get to it.

This little detail in child-Lotor’s life is an interesting inflection point that shows us how he learns to conceal his inner thoughts and his ploys from Zarkon, and by extension, from the world (remember the comparison with a distorted tree?). We know that adult Lotor is a master at scheming behind people’s back, working from the shadows, hiding himself - something that even Haggar reproaches him: “You say you rule, yet you stay hidden.” It’s something that he learned over and over again as a kid.

“You may be the high priestess, but I am your prince…” Didn’t Zarkon just utter the same thing? “You may be a prince, but I am your emperor…” Little Lotor learns very fast, his mind is a sponge absorbing everything from his father. With this you can pretty much tell how in awe he still is with him, imitating his vocabulary and trying to emulate his demeanor. The attitude is there: he’s proud of what he’s learned so far, he’s self-confident, and begins to have leadership traits: “you will do as I say.” All he does, he does in the name of Galra…

As for the interaction with Kova, here’s how I see it:

When Haggar says, “Do not touch him. He will hurt you,” I believe the meaning is more than just “Kova will scratch you.” Since Kova and Haggar both are infected with the entity, what are the chances that Kova might possess the same potential of sucking out the life of other living beings?

So in this context, I think that witch Haggar presumes that the prince might get injured. She’s unaware that Kova will not cause him any harm, because… what do you know? Lotor also has a little entity; he was born with it. And Haggar has no clue.

The bond they will form for the next ten thousand years perhaps goes deeper than we think. We know from S8 that Haggar was able to get into the minds of her Altean followers, because she infected them with the entity. There is a telepathic communication that forms, and maybe Lotor and Kova form a similar… mental bond? I’m inclined to believe this theory for several reasons: 1) in S8, Honerva is able to find out Lotor’s location only after probing into Kova’s mind. 2) Narti was also mentally bonded with Kova, and she could see through the cat’s eyes (which stirs the question: did Narti have the entity as well?)

Deep breath.

Are you ready for one of the hardest scenes in VLD?

YOUNG ADULT LOTOR

“Are you nervous?” asks Ven’tar.

Lotor replies with a confident, affected voice, looking up and proudly surveying the grand plaza, filled with thousands of people cheering him. “No, Ven’tar. This is my chance to finally make a difference. To show my father what we are capable of.”

Besides the fact that he nonchalantly displays his cat at the edge of his balcony, for the masses to see, notice the expression on his face, his eyebrows. He is pleased with himself, proud of his achievements, proud of the people in front of him.

What he says is also very significant, because it comes to show that Lotor, despite a lifetime of abuse and trauma from his father (and neglect from his mother), still believes there is good in him. He wants to “show” him what he’s capable of.

Oof. The need for validation. Why do people seek validation from others (especially from their family)? You guessed it: mainly because during their childhood, they did not receive enough praise or encouragement.

Overachievers are, oftentimes, love-seeking people who try to compensate for the lack of approval by trying to reach even higher goals, in the hopes of getting the love they need. In that note, here’s what Lotor tells his father:

“Our quintessence yields are some of the highest in the empire, and we’ve been more efficient than any other. By working alongside the denizens of this planet, like Ven’tar here, we’ve outsourced—”

“We’ve outpaced even the most generous projections.”

Poor Lotor!

The most horrific introduction into adulthood is about to drop. The hopeful, optimistic, love-seeking prince will see the true face of his father, and it is not a beautiful one.

We don’t know the details of Lotor’s relationship with Ven’tar, but from the fact that she addresses him without any royal titles, we can infer that they are at least friends. He loves the people of this planet, and he enjoys having her around him, so much so that he actually brings her with him to his father. Meet the parents?

Tragically, his father is utterly offended by Lotor’s introduction to such friends. “You dare work with this pitiful race as if they are your equals? […] The heir to the Galra throne should not sully our honor by working with his subjects!”

Yet Lotor has not learned his lesson yet. He raises his voice at him, like an outraged child that believes there is a way to reason with Zarkon.

Transactional Analysis psychology at its best, this scene provides us with a “game” between the critical, persecuting Parent ego and the rebellious Child ego. Enraged that things are not going his way, but hoping there is still a chance to shake his father from his insensitive state, Lotor takes it up a notch (in a game of “I’ll show him, he’ll see!”):

“It is the way my mother’s people would have done things.”

Lotor knows exactly how sensitive this subject is. All his childhood, he has been banned from researching anything about Honerva. Yet here he is, openly and rebelliously admitting it:

“You thought I couldn’t find out about my own mother? About her people? You thought you destroyed every remnant of Altea, but you cannot unless you destroy your own son as well!”

Lotor is now playing a very dangerous game. What he still does not realize is that his father’s reason is gone, his madness is pushed all the way to the dark side of the spectrum. He bargains with his own life, betting that Zarkon won’t harm him or his subjects. What’s worse, he unwittingly bets an entire planet against his self-assured comments (“unless you destroy your own son as well”). Actually, Zarkon will destroy him too, alongside Ven’tar’s planet. Not physically, but psychologically, he sure does.

“Enough!” Zarkon roars back at him.

Yes, enough, because it’s unbearable for Zarkon to even go there. The madness that clouds his mind has abolished any rational Adult from the picture. There is only the Tyrant, and he’s made up his mind.

“You are to crush this planet beneath your heel!”

The rebel child fights back: “Never!!”

Zarkon’s answer completely takes Lotor aback: “Then I will!”

Lotor is still in denial. The most cruel, dark, ugly face of his father is finally revealed to him and he cannot fathom it out. His father is truly capable of the most abominable acts.

Incredulity and desperation drips from his lips: “You wouldn’t. You can’t! Father, wait!”

Father, wait… Maybe, maybe he can fix this… Maybe he can soften his heart with one last plea, maybe he can twist himself one more time to his father’s will, if only he could to save his beloved planet:

“No, please do not do this, Father. Do not make these people suffer for my actions.”

The rebellious child shrinks into a penitent little being who bends to his abusive parent. How can he save them, now, in the last moment?

Alas… “It is already done.”

“I will do as you ask. The people will serve the Galra.” He will bend, he will bow to his father’s will, he will endure once more the whipping and palen-bols, he would do anything to save them! (Isn’t just this scene enough to reveal Lotor’s true character?) Utterly desperate, he runs after him, begging.

But we all know how it all went down...

Waking up to face the image of utter destruction, the fire outside reflects the scorching pain and horror inside him.

“You are hereby banished from the empire. Forced to live out the remainder of your days remembering your failure here.”

Indeed he will remember it for his entire life. After thousands of years, it will be his first and only confession to Allura, spoken, of all places, at Oriande, the most beautiful, celestial site in the universe.

“Have you nothing to say, witch? Surely even you can see the folly of your master’s actions,” utters Lotor through gnashing teeth, back at Haggar, who watches him impassively.

After a tragedy of this magnitude, I’m quite sure many would lose their mind. How did Lotor find the strength to go on after this? How did he preserve his sanity? Or maybe he actually… didn’t?

—————————————

We know a little bit about Lotor’s life in between this event and the first time we actually meet him, in S3E1, in the gladiator arena. From what he told Allura, after the harrowing event on Ven’tar’s planet, he spent the next few centuries searching for clues about his Altean heritage. We also assume it was within that time frame when he gathered the Alteans scattered across the corners of the empire, and brought them to the hidden colony in the Quantum Abyss.

But why his Altean heritage, you ask? He could have simply tried to find his inner peace in other ways… like, I don’t know, let’s say meditating, getting mental treatment, finding an occupation that would give him a different purpose. No, he spent centuries diving into the lost history of Altea, “another culture destroyed by Zarkon.” This was the only occupation that could give meaning and purpose to his life.

Why Altea?

Because it was the culture of his mother, whom he idolized. So much so that he defied his father’s interdictions and followed the Altean customs when ruling Ven’tar’s planet. So much so that when Allura dares to suggest that Haggar might be his mother, he snaps at her.

A child rejected by his father, mistreated, beaten, abused, tries to find refuge and comfort at the bosom of his… mother.

After Zarkon destroyed his heart, Lotor ran straight into the arms of Mother Altea. I believe that as much as the lost Alteans needed him to provide them a safe refuge, he needed them even more. He needed them as a child would need a mother to turn to, a safe place where he could heal his wounds.

I think herein lies the key to understanding Lotor’s mental trajectory and giving a true meaning to his mental breakdown and to the words he utters during the S6 tragic events, as I’ll discuss when we’ll arrive there.

Take a few deep breaths. Stretch your legs.

ADULT LOTOR BEFORE ALLYING WITH VOLTRON

Let’s see what he’s up to, thousands of years after all is said and done, during the new Paladins’ era. Haggar summons him to return as pro tem, and we first meet him in the gladiator arena.

We learn a bit about him from the little gossip murmured between Throk and his crony, watching the show. The “exiled brat”, how they call him, likes to “fight alongside his enlisted men, like a lowly private.”

“Worse than that, his top generals aren’t even pure Galra. They’re half-breeds at best. He has no honor,” Throk continues.

“Some say he allows the planets he conquers to continue to rule themselves. Can you imagine?”

“Clearly he’s a dangerous lunatic.”

This is the general atmosphere in which Lotor enters as emperor pro-tem, but now we know what kind of “lunatic” we are meeting.

His combat skills show his great talent for evasive maneuvers, using the opponent’s size to his advantage. He has adapted perfectly to the hostile environment in which he grew up. Like Hunk learned to avoid Dayak’s stinging crop, Lotor masters the art of evasive maneuvers to the tiniest detail. He easily defeats the big guy, then, with a theatrical gesture, reveals Throk’s hidden agenda to the public (courtesy of Ezor spying around - so we also know he’s got some good tactics to stay ahead of the game).

During his fight with Throk, Lotor makes some interesting remarks:

“You have flawless technique, that I’ll grant you. Still, you must realize at some point, that your repetitive attacks are getting you nowhere.”

“Your tactics are stale. And in the end, your own aggression is your undoing.”

The easy win that Throk provides, along with the dramatic effect it has for the audience, gives Lotor the perfect opportunity to win the public’s heart, by sparing Throk’s life. A novel approach.

“My father built our Empire on the bones of his enemies. But the time has come to change the old ways, and inspire not fear from those we rule, but loyalty. We must not waste our energy fighting to keep our subjects down, but rather multiply it, by allowing those worthy to rise and join our ranks. The Universe can no longer doubt our strength. Each ally gained only makes us stronger, while those who continue to stand against us… will be crushed.”

Wise words of a visionary man with a progressive agenda, he seeks to dislodge the old ways of the regime.

“The masses are easily manipulated,” he tells his generals as he returns victorious. “Have Throk transferred out to the Ulippa system immediately. Let him rot with the ice worms,” he beams a wicked smile.

So where’s the “each ally gained makes us stronger” promise?

Well, Lotor is intelligent enough to weigh the quality of his so-called “allies”. Would Throk really be someone “worthy to rise and join his ranks”, after he just plotted against him? There is a Latin proverb - “viperam sub ala nutricare”, or “to nurse a viper under your wing” - a caveat that you may not want to keep vipers too close to you. And Lotor’s survival instinct keeps him far away from such vipers. Actually, he is constantly on the watch for vipers - a trait that I shall repeatedly point out, because it reveals his paranoid tendencies, born of his turbulent and traumatic past.

From this episode we learn that he is a calculated man, who sends spies ahead of him to assess the territory, who knows how to win the public’s heart through inspiring speeches and amazing warrior skills, and who has a keen eye for discerning friends from foes. Bottomline: a very guarded man. Does he seem duplicitous and a bit suspicious? He sure does, but does he really hide evil intents? As a first-time watcher of the show, that would be the instinct. But reading the story backwards - meaning, starting in the true chronological order, from his childhood - we begin to comprehend the true reasons behind his exploits.

——————————————-

The following episodes reveal his brilliant tactics (of course, he practiced since he was a kid):

He easily lures the Paladins into multiple traps (Planet Puig, Thayserix), manipulating the battles in order to learn more about his opponents, all while enjoying himself. Not even looking to take them down, he simply wants to test their aptitudes and capture them if possible.

Ignoring his more impetuous generals, he knows when to retreat. “A leader must know when to leave the field of battle.” Something that Keith, as the new leader of Voltron, learns just now, for the first time. In many ways, the Paladins are learning new things via Lotor, and they’ll continue to learn from him throughout the seasons. As the EP’s also mentioned in multiple interviews, at their core, Lotor’s intentions are good, but his methods are not always as clean as Voltron may desire. He is operating not only from how he was raised, but also from the experience of his traumas, and we are given plenty of examples throughout the following seasons.

Lotor learns form every occasion, turning it to his advantage. The fact that the Lions can still form Voltron is “an opportunity”, which he fully wields, in S3E4 “Hole in the Sky”. Another trap for the Paladins, he effectively uses them to ‘pull his chestnuts out of the fire’. As he states, “If Voltron disappears from our world, then we win. If they make it out with the comet, we’ll take it from them. It’s a win either way.” Put that against his more tame clarification given to the Paladins, and you can see why it’s really a gray area where this man actually operates: “I’m afraid I had to be a bit duplicitous in effecting its retrieval. […] It was a calculated risk, I admit that. But I knew they’d come through without a scratch.” The high purpose he pursues (entering the rift) is worth the risks and the prices he’s willing to pay.

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In S3E5 “The Journey”, we learn something extremely valuable about him - how he has trained himself to be on constant alert about spies (remember the vipers mentioned earlier?). Swiftly apprehending general Raht, Haggar’s assigned secret agent, he decides to pay the witch a visit and confront her directly.

Haggar makes no gesture to deny the allegations, rather twisting the knife in his wound: “I know many ideas float through your head, just like your father, but the Galra Empire needs your leadership in these troubling times.” It almost resembles a domestic scene (I honestly chuckled), as if without realizing it, Haggar talks to him like a mother scolding her child. I find his reply equally entertaining (yet tragic), even his expression taking after that of a child desperately trying to rebel against his family: “I am the leader, but I am not my father!” It won’t be the first time when Haggar reproaches him that he’s not getting involved in imperial matters, only hiding in the shadows. That is his modus operandi - and we’re just beginning to understand why.

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The next episode, “Tailing a Comet” holds some keys about what Lotor is up to, but also carries some mysteries which have not been unlocked to this day. We learn that he already used some of the comet ore to manufacture a ship, but we also learn that he attacks a Galra base, in order to retrieve a teludav lens. Again, he’s operating from the shadows. As Pidge rightfully points out… “I thought Lotor took over for Zarkon. Why is he attacking a Galra base?” Because - Haggar, that’s why. We know she’s tailing him constantly and she is the last person in the universe that he’d team up with. In fact, if I get to think of it, Haggar stalking Lotor is the underlying thread of the entire show.

But what of the teludav lens? Clearly, a link must exist between that and the fact that Acxa was sent to retrieve scaultrite from the belly of the weblum, where Keith found her in the first place. Allura rightfully infers that an Altean must be employed to operate it, but she guesses Haggar wrong. Yes, Haggar is Altean, as Allura discovered in direct combat with her, but it’s clear that Lotor does not want anything to do with the witch.

That leaves us with only one alternative: someone in his hidden Altean colony. (Lotor himself seems to not possess Altean alchemy powers to operate a teludav, at least none that we’ve seen). This loose thread has never been elucidated. To spread even more mystery around Lotor’s aura, even his generals have no clue about the true purpose of all these shenanigans. As Shiro says, “something strange is going on here, and we need to figure it out.” Um, actually, we never fully figured it out, courtesy of the garfle-warfled S8.

I found an interesting parallel, and again, a lesson that Keith indirectly learns from his interaction with Lotor: the advice that Shiro gives Keith at the end of this episode: “You need to pick your battles. Sometimes you have to make hard choices.” Similarly, every choice that Lotor makes throughout his life is a battle he has to pick - behind Haggar’s back, as we learn right at the end of this episode, when the witch attempts to pry relevant memories about the teludav theft out of Throk’s mind, while Lotor eavesdrops, behind the corner.

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In S4E3 “Black Site” we get a multitude of new details about Lotor’s relationship with his family. When he is called to the imperial court to have his pro tem title dissolved, the first person he encounters as the doors hiss open is Haggar. For a very short moment, Lotor looks startled, and he casts a glance at the witch. Premonition?

As Lotor relinquishes imperial reigns back to his father, the interaction gives a quite fascinating subject of analysis. Lotor is no longer the naive youngling; he has completely abandoned the sincere vocabulary, instead glib words rolling off his tongue. He knows very well that Zarkon and him are never going to see eye to eye, but he did not come there to seek a fight. He’s not (yet) powerful enough to take him down, so the smooth-tongued approach has to be the way. He theatrically attempts an ingratiating offer to stay by Zarkon’s side and “learn” from him, knowing full-well that it will never happen. As expected, Zarkon dismisses him disdainfully.

And here’s the smirk I was talking about earlier:

It’s a rehearsed attitude, it’s the grown-up Lotor, like the tree grown under harsh weather, the prince whose childhood innocence and optimism have been replaced by a cynical, calculated demeanor, carrying out ploys behind his father’s back because the front door was closed a long time ago.

What a confident smirk.

He worked for so long on this plan.

He’s getting closer and closer to achieving his dream. He snatched the comet ore and he’s making his own Voltron. Soon he will be able to enter the rift and get as much quintessence as he needs, for his grand plans.

Unfortunately, his confidence becomes his blindspot, as Haggar taps into the mind connection with Kova.

The sad irony is that he thinks he has Haggar all sorted out, when, upon his departure, he runs a thorough scan of his ship for trackers. The scene screams “paranoia”, except this paranoia is indubitably justified. When you’ve been stalked for millennia by a family who seeks to destroy you, all your senses are sharpened, survival instinct ready to spring in action at any second, adrenalin ready to kick in.

Killing Narti, a huge blow for the team, does not ensue as a mindless knee-jerk reaction. It is a hard choice he makes, for their own survival. He learned throughout his life to decide on the run, and you can see it on his face that he takes no pleasure in killing. Narti falls victim, just like he later admits that he had to sacrifice a few Alteans to preserve the future for millions.

We do not know the circumstances in which he had to sacrifice “the few”, but if they resemble in any way the tough spot he found himself when slaying Narti, we begin to see the trail of tragedies that haunt his life.

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In S4, Ep3&5 we witness the growing mistrust of the generals towards Lotor. Ezor tells Acxa: “What about Narti? She trusted him. You saw where that got her.”

Notice that Lotor didn’t share some essential knowledge with his generals. The reason why he slayed Narti was because of the connection with Haggar via the entity inside Kova.

I believe none of the generals (except maybe Narti?) knows about the entity, his Quantum Abyss colony and his secret team building the inter-reality gate, based on their behavior along the show. Yes, Acxa might have a stronger loyalty, switching back to siding with him just from a few glance exchanges, but eventually she also renounces him.

In S8E5 “The Grudge”, Acxa explains to her friends in the gym room that “…we had to abandon the animal [Kova] on our destroyed ship so we could escape without being tracked.” This simply implies that she knew about Haggar controlling the cat, but not exactly how she controls the cat.

The rift gate scene also proves that Lotor runs secret operations that he obscures even from his generals (NB: when he deems appropriate, he discloses them). This is his dynamic way of existence: juggling with secrets among people who put their trust in him, in order to protect himself and those dear to him from his corrupt family. The trauma that he endures for millennia force him into wearing these many masks.

After his attempt to enter the rift between realities fails, his generals betray him. Most likely not the first time when people double-crossed him. The difference is that stakes are getting higher and higher, now that he has his own comet ore ships, and will continue to get higher as he’ll discover Oriande, all the more reasons for him to be extremely cautious.

But he’s used to traitors. As a matter of fact, when he wakes up, he says, with a bitter expression, “You plan to give me up. I understand, Zethrid. You do what you must, and I’ll do what I must.” This scene also foreshadows the larger breach of trust, between him and the Voltron team in S6.

Is he justified in keeping secrets from his team? Hell yes. The risk of losing Altea is so great that he has to.

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When Lotor flies too close to the sun (literally), his comet ore ship proves to be more resilient than Zarkon’s cruisers. As he dives deeper into the plasma, his expression - of desperate survival, of hate against his assailants - borders madness, resembling his turn in S6

Trauma and disintegration of his social connections, two major factors in describing a madness arc, converge right in this chapter.

If trauma from the past is not enough, being hunted by his own father is another straw atop the camel’s back. Not the last one, though. Not yet. More potent factors need to converge, to throw him off the cliff, as we’ll see.

By witnessing him completely alone, we also get a glimpse into his true character.

The moment he learns about the imminent explosion of the Naxzela planet, Lotor heads right into the heart of danger. Why would someone who, all this life, fought for his own survival, fly directly into the range of a galactic ticking bomb?

Because this is how we learn who he truly is. Alone, no external influence or circumstance, no pretend smiles or smirks behind one’s back, he takes decisions based on his true moral compass. If he were the monster the story would seemingly lead us to believe in S6 and beyond, he’d run to cover his own skin. Instead, the worry across his expression reveals just that: genuine concern.

The same genuine concern sits atop his brows as he enters the battle scene, effectively disabling Haggar’s weapon. Finally, after a long string of tragic mishaps, he secures a win. A win which he wittily and swiftly takes advantage of: “Attention, Paladins of Voltron and rebel fighters, I know we’ve had our differences in the past, but… I think it is time we had a discussion.”

BECOMING VOLTRON’S FRIEND

With S5 come Lotor’s brightest and most glorious moments, and along with them, the complexity of his character further augments.

Before I begin, I can’t help posting a side-by-side Loki-Lotor screencap, because Lotor’s prison cell screams the same design concept and I love it, for many reasons.

Also, let’s not forget this sassy first portrait of Lotor as he begins his adventure alongside the Paladins:

His discussions with Allura and the Paladins while serving prison time in the castle provide us with new details about him, but also lead the viewer into a skewed picture of the events.

#LotorWasFramed, shared by many on social media at the time of S6 and beyond, including by some of the VLD cast members, hints precisely at this skewed view of Lotor:

Allura says to her friends, in S5E1 “The Prisoner”, “I’m still not comfortable with this. It just doesn’t feel right.”

Later in the episode, she reiterates, “I can’t stop thinking that we might be an unwitting part of a much larger ulterior motive.”

Yes, her intuition is right, there is a much larger ulterior motive, but what is the ulterior motive? Is it truly an evil plot?

Well, take Allura’s final words about Lotor, in S8E13 and there you have it, canon-compliant: “Lotor may have been misguided, but ultimately, he wanted to preserve life. Honor your son...”

Highly frowned upon by fans as a meager redemption, truly lacking the complexity that should have reflected the richness of his character, it is, nevertheless, an exoneration, stating in clear that his ultimate goal was to preserve life - and to be more precise, Altean life, the Altean colony. We have to honor his work, because, ultimately, even though his methods didn’t feel right to Allura, even if his methods obscured ulterior motives, those motives were righteous. And Allura’s final statement is canon - one cannot deny that. The end justified the means - it truly fits into how he operated, and we can see why he had to operate that way - not only because he didn’t know of another method, but because the social and political circumstances forced him to.

So, armed with this information, we begin to see how his “ulterior motive” is plotted. He reveals to the Voltron team that his goal is to enter the rift to get quintessence, to flood the empire with a fuel currently deemed a luxury, to effectively “drop the price of oil”. A paradigm shift, a new dawn for the old empire. No more need for blood in order to obtain quintessence. A peaceful era for everyone. And he doesn’t lie. This is his intention. But not a complete picture of it.

What he doesn’t reveal is his precious Altean colony, the one that he hopes to finally be able to release from hiding, once peace has been established within the empire. In a future dialogue, he will state precisely that: “I’ve dedicated my life to preserving Altean culture. Now that we’ve unlocked the quintessence field, all of your people, who would have been hunted long ago, had it not been for my intervention, can live in peace.” Can we blame him for not revealing this to the team? Absolutely not. Knowing that Haggar can plant spies in the most inconspicuous locations, Lotor is constantly on the watch, protecting at all cost what is dearest to him - Mother Altea. And wasn’t he right? There was a mole in the Voltron team: Shiro’s clone.

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Returning to the scenes with imprisoned Lotor, let’s tap into some subtle psychological hints at his traumatic past.

When Allura calls him “the leader of the most bloodthirsty race of murderers this universe has ever known,” his reply does not arrive in anger, but with a surprisingly calm and pacifying tone, as he continues to sit down: “Can people not change? Is it so hard to believe that I wish to return the Galra empire to a bygone era of peace?” This is not the first time his mixed lineage has been the subject of spiteful remarks. For ten thousand years, he must have constantly heard the “half-breed” denigratory comments. Why would an Altean comment about his Galran blood strike him differently? He surely has grown thick skin by now.

But if these words don’t pierce the thick skin, this comment surely does: “Sounds like you are your father’s son,” says Allura with enmity, after he explains that his sole purpose has been to enter the rift.

This. This hurts. His weak spot. To have him compared with the tyrant who terrorized him for his entire life, what a blasphemy! He snapped at Haggar when she dared utter such words, and he snaps again now.

He stands up, aggravation in his expression, tone raised at Allura, attacking her with a similar family comparison: “It was your father who led the scientific exploration that discovered quintessence. An exploration, I might add, that resulted in the creation of Voltron. This isn’t a zero-sum game. Meeting the needs of the Galra empire means bringing peace to the universe. That is the future enlightenment brings us, one of prosperity for all. […] All I ask is to be judged by my actions, rather than your preconceptions of my race. If that is beyond you, then perhaps you should just finish me and get it over with. Clearly, Princess, you are not ready to end this war.”

This is obviously a subject of deep pain for him, and we don’t need any clarification as to why.

How painful?

World-shattering painful.

Maddeningly hurtful.

At this point Allura is someone he just met. He takes it personally when she compares him with Zarkon. What will happen when he’ll fall in love with her and then she’ll… revisit the same comparison?

Let’s refocus on his conversations with Allura and the Paladins:

Notice how skilled he is in dodging their questions regarding his ploys.

He admits to being “a bit duplicitous”, framing it as a means to a higher purpose - which is not a lie.

He’s not afraid to defend his political beliefs, and even fight back, ending his speech with a comment that emphasizes the maturity of his agenda, while pointing out her inexperience: “Clearly, Princess, you are not ready to end this war.” He does have a ten thousand year advantage over her, that’s a fact. (I also found it quite amusing that the very next scene depicts Allura being nervous about her lines when addressing the Coalition, while Lance advises her to… jot notes down on her palm, because… he does it all the time. Talk about inexperience!)

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While the plot revolving around saving Commander Holt still holds a degree of uncertainty whether Lotor and Acxa were working together, it does seem plausible that Acxa acted in line with his interests, offering Holt to Zarkon, so that Lotor could have his one-on-one battle with his father.

Lotor attempting to convince the Paladins not to hand him over to Zarkon shows once more his tactical skills. He plants the idea of a “royal alliance” into Allura’s head (to Lance’s vocal dismay), and, perhaps due to his attraction to her, or simply as an intent to charm her, he goes as far as saying “You and I”. There is clearly chemistry between them from the start, and it’s savory to watch it unfold. Even as enemies, Allura watches him speak with mesmerized attention, absorbing his every word, and I believe it does not go unnoticed by him, which explains why he brings his focus on the unity aspect, stroking her ego with comments about their parents’ glorious past. His speech is so convincing that Allura already ponders on the “royal alliance” possibility.

The fight between Zarkon and his son is another source of precious details about Lotor. Now is the time for Lotor to speak his mind. When Zarkon calls him “weak” and “darkest shame”, Lotor doesn’t flinch. He’s grown thick skin for such insults. No longer the helpless child, Lotor sees the corrupt Zarkon exactly for who he is, and in this final moment between them, he points out all his weaknesses, especially his obsession for getting back the Black Lion.

The fight, spectacular (and magnificently rendered through animation), displays Lotor’s talent in evading direct blows and his keen eye for his opponent’s weak spots.

I found it so significant that Lotor kills his father not with a bayard, not with a sword, but with a shard of metal lying around on the ground. His desperate yell - “No!” - seeing as Zarkon points his deadly weapon at the Lions, proves once more his genuine concern for the Paladins. He kills his father to protect his allies.

His immediate facial expression is not of joy, not of jubilation, but of deep grief. I’m reiterating this: he does not take pleasure in killing, even his worst enemies. A positive trait that seems to contradict his portrayal after S6, which ties back to the #LotorWasFramed point that I made earlier.

The symbolism of the post-battle imagery conveys the suffering on his expression. As the light, emblematic of the new era that is to come for Lotor, crosses his face, we see the traumatic burden of his past, a burden he carries forward. Even if he killed his own father, the act itself does not erase the multi-millennial painful past.

And we continue to see that trauma etched into his expression on many occasions, including this scene, in the “Postmortem” episode.

When Allura asks him, “Are you alright?” his dry answer reflects the emptiness inside him, “I’ll be fine.” Someone who wants to bury their pain would resort to similar affirmations. I’m fine. Or… Everything is fine. Or… I’ll be fine.

No, sir, you’re not fine, you won’t be fine until you address that deep level of trauma.

Instead, Lotor pushes forward, because his work is not done. In fact, he’s just beginning.

First, he must take the throne as legitimate emperor.

Then, all his attention will focus on finding a way to obtain quintessence from the rift.

And lastly, his dream of freeing Altea would come to life.

Only after that, he can, maybe, maybe, relax (does an emperor of such a vast and violent empire ever relax?).

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So let’s begin with Kral Zera. Firstly, Lotor has to convince the Paladins to fly him into the danger zone, and the only one who stands by his side is Shiro, whose tactical experience aligns with his. The tension that ensues among the Paladins makes Shiro walk out of the room, while Lotor casts a regretful look in his trail. He clearly doesn’t enjoy being a source of discord among the Paladins.

So here it is: his genuine desire for peace and amity. Which lines up with his statements about bringing peace to the empire. And we see it once more as he comments about the Galra forces fighting amongst each other at Kral Zera: “This is exactly what I wanted to avoid. I knew they would all turn on each other.”

This is the true Lotor, underneath the many layers and facades he wears around everyone.

But he is also the wily prince who sneaks out of the castle behind Allura’s back, along with Shiro and the Black Lion. Also, the way he spins the narrative in front of the Galra, boasting about returning the Black Lion to the empire? Genius.

When Haggar insults him about his Altean lineage, he dismisses her with a few words, but we can see the aggravation in his narrowing eyes. Drop by drop, all these upsets and tribulations add up to his already heavy mental anguish that he carried across the eons.

The clash between him and Sendak puts emphasis once more on his fearlessness and deft swordsmanship.

The lighting of the flame carries a solemn, uplifting, yet tragic air to it.

He ascends the battered, collapsing steps of the Kral Zera, perhaps the steps of his destiny, while explosions flare up the skies. He takes the throne of an empire in complete disarray. While he lights the flame, he harbors a stark, but also angry expression, because… why should he be joyful? He’s taking reign over a civilization that has perpetuated his traumas for so long.

———-

S5E5 “Bloodlines” provides a respite from all the anguish we’ve seen so far. He spends time with Allura, searching for Altean clues in Haggar’s lair, and we see the growing attraction between them bloom.

But watch for hints about his past traumas.

When Allura discovers that he is half-Altean, we get Lotor’s direct depiction of his status in the eyes of Galra, as well as his self-confidence in regards to his mixed genes: “It was something the Galra considered a weakness, but I considered it a strength.”

Also, his next words reveal his deep admiration for his mother. He venerates her, and he adores the Altean culture. As much as I want to emphasize the level of trauma that this man has gone through, I also want to bring under spotlight his awe for the mother he never knew, and by extension, of the entire Altean race. Pay attention: “The union between Zarkon and Honerva sparked a technological revolution within the empire. Even back then, Altean culture was remarkably advanced. The kinds of experiments she was conducting… she advanced science by eons.”

Something that always caught my eye was Honerva’s science log itself. Lotor scrolls through her research and we can clearly see the comet ore in one of them, a sphere in another and… the entity inside the tube in a third slider. It’s clearly the entity, compare it with the original image from S3E7:

The fact that Lotor casts a long look at the slides makes me think that he might be aware of the entity. Perhaps this science log will make him understand even more about it?

When Lotor makes a few comments, frowning while inspecting his mother’s science logs, we conclude a few aspects about him and his mother. “By the end of these logs, it’s like they’re written by a different person. She’s frantic, paranoid, erratic. Her reason and intellect are gone, replaced by fear and paranoia.”

This confirms exactly what happened to Honerva (and foreshadows what will happen to him as well). Due to her obsession for power and knowledge and enhanced by excessive quintessence demanded by the entity inside her, Honerva lost her reason, became… a different person. Does that not resonate with how Lotor underwent an apparent abrupt change in S6? The comparison might come across as superficial, but I promise I’ll go deeper when discussing the S6 scenes.

Also, this reveals a much deeper truth about Lotor. He is in denial about what happened to his mother. Pay attention to the scene where Allura suggests that Honerva might have turned into Haggar.

“That witch is not my mother!” snaps Lotor, taking Allura by surprise. Not only he raises his voice at the princess, but he instantly turns his back on her, leading to an awkward moment. I found this instance extremely telling. Suggesting to Lotor that his mother turned into a witch?? Unconceivable!

I’m reiterating this: he ADORES his mother, and he adores Altea. He wants to protect his mother’s image as much as he wants to protect his Altean colony, at all cost. Even if that means keeping the colony a secret from Allura - the princess of ancient Altea - who slowly conquers his heart. Was there a conflict inside him about this? I’m absolutely sure there was.

Another relevant aspect about Lotor is that he’s an Altean culture nerd. Especially the alchemy part. He’s been hunting high and low for Oriande, because his sharp intelligence guided him in the right direction. And with a bit of persistence, he guides Allura in the right direction, too. Together, they unlock the compass stone, and, despite the Paladins’ and Coran’s doubts, Lotor convinces them to “navigate by cave poetry”, eventually discovering Oriande.

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Lotor has Altean marks? The Marks of the Chosen, no less. I love the attention to the shape of the marks, too. Uncorrupted Alteans display half-moon marks, while Haggar’s look completely distorted, like scars dragging across her face. In between them is… Lotor. His marks are neither half-moons, nor disfigured shapes. Daywalker?

In any case, the fact that he is accepted in the realm of Oriande clearly means that he has potential for alchemic powers.

Even in the celestial beauty of such a place, his mind flies into dark corners, recalling the destruction of Ven’tar’s planet. This should tell you how deep his wounds go, and how desperately they need healing. With such unspeakable beauty around him, his miserable expression only underscores the level of internal trauma.

“You know, I envy you growing up with King Alfor. I always wanted to be an explorer and learn about the universe. My father was only interested in conquering it. He once put me in charge of a planet for a year, running the quintessence mining and getting to know the local population. Rather than employ the usual Galran methods of subjugation, I worked alongside the leadership of the planet, learning their customs. We would only extract as much quintessence as could be replenished. And I enjoyed my time there quite a bit. When my father found out what was happening, he ordered me to destroy the planet. I refused, and he sent me away.”

“At least you stood up for those people,” replies Allura.

“He destroyed them all. I was powerless to stop him. I spent the following centuries searching for clues about my Altean heritage, another culture destroyed by Zarkon.”

“I’m glad you’re here to help me now. I never would’ve gotten here without you,” Allura smiles back.

Notice how Allura brings lightheartedness into the conversation, always aiming his attention to the full side of the glass. When he turns around to face her, this is one of his most iconic, beautiful, gentle, hopeful, yet heartbreaking expression in the entire series:

Allura infuses him with optimism, like no one else did before. She is the soothing salve over his old wounds, arriving into his life to open up a bright future. Oriande awaits them, the future awaits them. Hope and love bloom in his heart, and you can read it on his face, overlayed with the fatigue lines etched under his eyes. I know I’ve said this before, but I’m absolutely in love with Studio Mir’s clean drawing style, yet capable of rendering a vast array of emotions with just a few pen strokes.

Inside the pyramid, Lotor makes a few remarks, which reflect his curiosity but also his relative lack of instincts about what to do next. He relies on logic and educated guesses.

“The mysteries we seek are hidden somewhere deep inside.”

“We may yet to prove that we’re worthy to be here.”

“There must be a clue. Something a trained Altean would recognize.”

Similarly, when the Sages attack, his training guides him to apply known and well-rehearsed battle tactics - he’s ducking away from their spears. Allura has the presence of mind to pull out the compass stone, addressing them reverently, and Lotor - behind her - instantly mimics her gestures. Yes, he’s a fast learner, but it’s a bit too late for learning. The trial time is near.

The trial itself provides us with a head-to-head comparison between his tactics and Allura’s. They each apply themselves according to their upbringing, and therein lies the tragedy of his failure.

When he finds himself alone in the celestial domain, what do we see first, glowing in his enlarged eyes?

Fear.

He gasps as he opens his eyes, looks around warily, then calls for her, “Allura?” Without her, he is insecure, because he is not prepared for this; it’s a kind of trial he’d never attended before. (He aced the Galran Agotian trials, yet he clearly struggles here).

Of course calling out for her suggests he might also be worried about her, but I believe - from the hints given so far from their adventure inside the pyramid - that he is genuinely lacking confidence. He even stated so, as they began their journey: “None of my research or travels have prepared me for this. From here, we are on our own.”

And what do Galrans do when faced with their own fears?

Victory or death.

“I will never yield! I will gain your secrets!”

Here, I read pride, anger, determination, unwillingness to give in.

He doesn’t even consider another method; the emotional domino of fear-aggression is ingrained into who he is, from a young age. And in the end… his own aggression is his undoing.

If you take a look at Allura’s demeanor, she does not gasp in fear as she takes in her surroundings. She does not call for Lotor.

“I do not wish to fight. I come here seeking knowledge,” she addresses the White Lion.

“What can I do?” she continues, humbly.

“No. This isn’t the way. I seek the secret of life. I give my own.”

Notice the requirements of an Altean trial:

humbleness in the face of unknown;

non-aggression;

willingness for self-sacrifice.

Lotor, unfortunately, does not display any of these.

In the meditation practice, there is one particular method that helps ease anxiety, worries and fear of unknown. It involves staying with your own emotions, allowing them to unfold, simply noticing and embracing them. Fear becomes a friend which does not need to be battled, but acknowledged.

What Allura did was to basically embrace her fear of the White Lion, to allow the fear to manifest, and in doing so, she conquered it.

Conversely, by fighting with your own emotions, you only prolong your agony.

When the Life Giver tells Allura, “You are home, and the secret is already within you,” we finally understand why Allura passed this trial, and why Lotor failed. If the secret is already within her, she instinctively directs her actions according to the ancient practices and wisdom of Altea, where she grew up. At Oriande she is home.

On the other hand, Lotor is hard-wired into the victory or death philosophy, which guides fear in the opposite direction, that of aggression. At this time, Oriande is not his home, unfortunately. He yells, “No. No!” realizing his failure. It’s a cry of desperation, he’s angry with himself for his defeat.

It’s ironic though: he knows that aggression is not the way, yet he himself cannot overcome it. It’s also paradoxical, because he is searching for ways to bring peace to the universe. He preaches peace and prosperity, but he lacks the deeper understanding of how to fully achieve it. Living in such a hostile environment for millennia, we cannot but recognize that this is the way the environment shaped him. Nature versus nurture, exactly the words of one of the EP’s. Also, from the same interview: “It was a very bad hand. That deck was stacked against him in every way in his upbringing. If he had this amazing accepting family that Allura had, he probably would have been a magnificent person. He had to live his life the only way he could, and a lot of that was through manipulation and doing things the only way he could get them done. It’s tragic.” (Source: Den of Geek - The Ultimate Downfall of Lotor, June 28, 2018 - link in comments)

Despite his defeat, I found it admirable that he does not bear jealousy on Allura, honestly acknowledging her magical powers: “You are a true Altean alchemist. Oriande was for you, not for me.”

One thing I’m wondering though: did Lotor ever learn anything from his defeat? He is a fast learner, so how did he internalize this event? I’m sure Allura recounted to him how she came to pass the trial, so did he ever put the pieces together, to figure out where he went wrong?

————————————

After Oriande, Season 6 warms us up to his character even more. The encounter with Dayak in S6E1 provides us with precious comic moments that further humanize his character. Suddenly, he is not the stiff emperor with a royal demeanor and parlance, but the teenager who’s embarrassed about his mom, while trying to look cool around his buddies, which subsequently suggests that he cares about his relationship with the Paladins, also proven by the way he introduces them to Dayak: “These are my colleagues. They have more than my permission to speak.”

In addition, their dynamic gives us a moment to ponder on the type of Galran education he received. Now that we are fresh from the Oriande experience, learning how Lotor grew up - under the constant threat of the whipping pain - provides a better perspective into the kind of cards life handed him.

In the same time, let’s not vilify all his upbringing. As a prince, Dayak offered him the highest kind of education one could receive: “The history of our conquests, our customs, battle philosophy, the art of war.” Yes, they are all veered towards war-related matters, but those are subjects of vital importance to any nation, even in times of peace. The end of S8 will have Allura basically learn to navigate this dark side, guided by ghost!Lotor and the entity. As much as Lotor needs to learn from Allura, she also needs to understand and absorb his wisdom.

If one needs a summary of Lotor’s past, find it right within Lotor’s speech, broadcast across his empire: “Slayer of a tyrant, child raised in the void and taught on the battlefield.”

From the conversation between Lt. Lahn and Commander Bogh, it’s clear that Lotor’s dream of peace is too abstract for his subjects. There are prejudices against him that are hard to tame. Lotor is well aware of them; even his empyreal address reflects this issue.

But one particular conversation raised a red flag to me. At the news of Sendak’s attack on a mining planet, the Paladins offer their immediate assistance. Lotor says, “Sendak would have me respond to his attack and neglect my empire.”

Allura replies with determination, “Voltron can handle this, while you continue to rule.”

Lotor insists, “But Princess, I need you here. Without you—”

“Your plan has waited this long. It can wait a tick longer. We must protect your innocent subjects,” says Allura.

“Of course. You’re right,” Lotor acquiesces in Allura’s decision.

This, right here, introduces a major hint at a future reveal. Is Lotor going to allow an entire mining colony to perish under Sendak’s attack? (“sacrifice a few…” - rings any bell?) When Allura emphasizes “innocent subjects”, I read frustration, impatience… and something more on his expression. He’s obviously annoyed that his plans are being delayed. As he told Allura, “it is paramount” that they focus all their energy on infusing his ships with alchemy. He’s getting so close to his dream, and now Sendak comes to derail him.

This askance look suggests he is hiding something. And we read a conflict within him, in the way he presses his eyelids closed under a slight frown, then reopens them into a forced-amiable expression.

There are many ways to interpret his internal conflict:

which innocent subjects should he focus on first? The Alteans - his most precious people - with whom he hasn’t been in contact for a while, or the mining colony attacked by Sendak? What if the Altean colony is in danger of peril as well, and he’s tied up with empyreal matters?

maybe he is simply embarrassed that he let a “little” mischief slip past his mask? He’s never been put in a situation like this, working alongside honest, compassionate people, who care for the lives of others. Not that he doesn’t care overall - on the contrary, all he does is because he desperately wants to pacify the empire and ultimately free his Altean colony, but the way he goes about it requires cutting some… corners; translation - sacrifices.

maybe time is of essence; perhaps he knows things we don’t know about his colonies (there are many unresolved things about the Altean colony plot, so here I can only speculate).

all of the above?

In any case, this little detail adds an extra tint of gray to his character.

—————-------

S6E2 and E3 elevate the relationship between Lotor and Allura to a level of trust and fondness for each other that we haven’t seen them develop for others. Lotor genuinely loves Allura, something confirmed in interviews with EP’s. He is not simply using her for his secret agenda. What is blooming between them is real, and you can see it in the way he behaves around her, the gentle hand touches, the almost-kiss interrupted by the Paladins, their discussions while working on his ships, his excitement to share the “grand news” about the progress he makes on his Sincline. Allura is beginning to be the soul-healer of his past traumas; his optimism is soaring. He is able to relax more around her, as he truly trusts her.

————------------

S6E4 (“The Colony”) begins with Lotor, facing his Sincline ship, ready for the trip to the rift, telling Allura: “I’ve waited an eternity for this. […] It means so much to me to share this with you.”

The moment of his life. He’s waited for this for thousands of years. Thousands. Not decades, not centuries. The anticipation, the emotion, it must be like nothing he ever felt.

I loved the reference to the DotU little technical terms, as they prepare for the trip of a lifetime: “Infracells up. Dynotherms connected. Mega-thrusters are go.” It gives their relationship even more meaning and legitimacy in the audience’s eyes.

Pay attention to the comments the Paladins make, as Lotor and Allura enter the rift:

Lance: “Last time anyone got in there, it turned Zarkon evil.”

Shiro: “Zarkon fell prey to his own evil instincts. The quintessence field didn’t create them. It revealed them.”

I’ve used Shiro’s comment in the analysis of Honerva and Zarkon’s arcs as well, but the fact that the writers chose to insert it right before Lotor’s trip to the rift is a clear enough hint (albeit “evil” and “instincts” have nuances, just like Lotor’s numerous character shades).

When they enter the rift, there is a moment where Lotor’s eyes narrow a bit…

That, right there, is Lotor’s cunning expression he often displayed in the episodes before befriending the Paladins. It clearly points out to us that there is more going on in his mind.

An evil plot? This would be the immediate thought, right? Especially immediately after Shiro mentioning “evil instincts”.

Or maybe it isn’t an evil plot, but its execution is… less clean (“Lotor may have been misguided, but ultimately, he wanted to preserve life”). Hence, the evil-looking smirk. #LotorWasFramed?

“What we do here today will change the course of the universe forever,” says Lotor, while measuring the energy readings inside the rift.

Allura ponders over the quintessence effects, “In the hands of the wrong person, this power could easily corrupt.”

“Together, we’ll see it never does and continue the work your father started so long ago,” Lotor replies.

Two things:

Another warning: Quintessence in the hands of the wrong person…

“Together”: Yes, if they split up, things will go sideways.

“I can feel the quintessence coursing through me,” says Lotor euphorically, as they travel through the rift.

Allura, ecstatically sighing, replies, “It’s like my spirit, my whole being, is more alive.”

Quintessence is the space-drug of the series, it’s no doubt about that, even the EP’s have made the comparison. A double-edged sword, capable of conferring supernatural abilities and sensations, yet destructive enough to turn you into a Zarkon.

Not only Lotor is feeling its effects, Allura does too. Keep this in mind as I’ll discuss upcoming events.

For the first time in eons, his stars are aligned in the best possible way. They “accomplished something amazing” - entering the rift and collecting quintessence. He has the most powerful princess in the universe by his side, the gifted alchemist he so sorely needed for millennia. His plan is coming along fabulously.

But I think the most amazing accomplishment is that they finally confirm their feelings. The kiss happens. The bond that forms in their hearts is a potential catalyst for extraordinary changes, within themselves and to the universe around them. Double, triple euphoria for him.

-------------------------

Can this man’s life turn any more tragic?

The moment of… (alleged) truth happens. The moment we find out, through Romelle’s story, that Lotor has been harvesting Alteans for their quintessence, for generations. The conclusion of her accusations is that he has been draining the Alteans for his own power and glory.

(Notice the general expression of guilt: self-hugging, chin dropped to the chest, peeking from underneath his frowned eyebrows)

DESCENT INTO MADNESS

Let’s see, from Lotor’s perspective, what shocking events he goes through, to understand the underlying cause of his mental breakdown in S6E6.

1. Physical rejection by the woman he fell in love with.

Right after the high of their kiss and their rift breakthrough, he finds himself at gunpoint, accused of mass murder.

In reply to their accusations, Lotor says, “You know nothing about what you speak. […] Allura, listen to me. I’ve dedicated my life to preserving Altean culture. Now that we’ve unlocked the quintessence field, all of your people, who would have been hunted down long ago had it not been for my intervention, can live in peace. Were some lives lost in the process? Yes. But they were martyrs to a noble cause. I sacrificed a few to preserve the future for millions. Allura, do not let this ruin everything we’ve worked for. Think of what we experienced in the quintessence field.”

From what he says, we can deduce exactly what I’ve pieced together so far: that he was deeply preoccupied with preserving the Altean life and culture - he “dedicated” his life to it. This was his purpose in life, it was what he cared most about, and every action, every little or grand mischief that we’ve seen so far along the seasons, they all point to one sole purpose: pacifying the universe so he could bring his Alteans out of their hideout, so they can “live in peace”. They were his Mother Altea - metaphorically, the mother he never had.

His explanation is vague enough that we don’t understand some essential aspects about the “martyrs”, but also, his approach to Allura, right after such horrifying news, touching her hand while reminding her of what they “experienced” in the rift, obviously rubs her the wrong way.

Fresh from the rift with a dose of ultra-pure emotional enhancer called quintessence, Allura reacts violently, without seeking more answers. From here, things quickly roll downhill.

2. Being taken hostage.

3. Facing the truth about his mother, Haggar/Honerva.

For some reason, this event in his life never seems to be a subject of much discussion. I believe this holds a large role in his traumatic rollercoaster before the battle with Allura. The discussion with Honerva reveals the fact that he is still in denial about his mother’s downfall. His fists tremble in anger - another sign of emotional gravity.

According to him, his mother “ceased to exist when Honerva drew her last breath”, while Haggar represents an “abomination”, “a twisted perversion of what was once so pure and beautiful”. If you want a little Transactional Analysis (TA) parallel, this is exactly Child-Lotor from the other reality, saying: “No. My mother is dead. And you cannot replace her!”

What I find even more dramatic is that his entire life he’s been compensating for his lack of maternal love by completely immersing himself into the Altean culture, while his biological mother did everything to thwart his efforts to connect with his maternal legacy.

This is a huge blow to his internal set of values, and the fact that he reacts with total denial suggests (again, applying TA) that, with his fears confirmed, Child-Lotor feels cornered, afraid, trapped, thus his reaction of rejection towards her.

Bear this in mind, because I believe at the core of Lotor’s tragic turn in this episode resides a wounded Child.

4. Attempting to fix it, under pressure.

He is being punched from ALL directions.

Yet he persists.

His urgent priority? Finding Allura.

Even though Acxa explains that it will take a while to get back to the castle of Lions, he replies: “Then what are we waiting for?” I read desperation, a rush to try to fix things.

Although Allura tossed him to the ground, he holds no grudge against her.

Why does he return to her?

Why not the colony?

After all, it was his most precious planet in the universe! Oh, but this is not a tactical decision… It clearly stems from his emotions - he will soon confess it as well - because he truly loves Allura.

The fear of losing her is greater than his fear for the colony. Now that the secret is out, now that he knows that clone-Shiro was Haggar’s spy, it must be clear to him that his colony is completely exposed. The Altean civilization that he worked so hard to protect from the evils of his parents is inches away from being overtaken by Haggar, yet he flies right back to Allura! How telling!

Oh, but the way the story frames it leads us to believe that he wants to get back to the rift due to his greed for more power, because that was Allura’s conclusion about why he was returning: “He needs to get back into the quintessence field.”

No he does not. His Sincline can jump in and out of the rift at his own will, so he can access the rift from anywhere. He explicitly said to his generals that, “We’re headed to the Castle of Lions’ last known location.” (S6E5) He’s not headed to the rift, he is headed towards ALLURA.

“Accessing the quintessence field has been Lotor’s singular drive for millennia. He wants to harness the power for himself, but we cannot let him,” says Allura in S6E6. Wrong. What did he just explain to her earlier? “Now that we’ve unlocked the quintessence field, all of your people, who would have been hunted down long ago had it not been for my intervention, can live in peace.” Accessing the quintessence field does not reflect his final goal, it is a means to a higher purpose: freeing the Alteans.

5. The fallout. The dam-breaking moment.

Let me start by saying that Lotor is generally a calm and composed character - a mask he has built into his persona and practiced it for millennia, because he needs to display confidence, not weakness, around both his subjects and his enemies. It is the way of the Galra. Also, the attribute of a leader.

That doesn’t mean he does not show moments of panic or outbursts of anger. On the contrary, we witnessed them along the episodes: when killing Narti, when flying into the solar flares, the moment he kills Zarkon, when snapping at Allura… These little slips hint at the true emotions roiling underneath his mask. Most of us understand this mechanism; think of school exams and how anxious we felt inside, despite displaying a relatively calm expression while entering the test room.

Given the extraordinary tension of the negative events that befall right after his most triumphant moments, what are the odds that behind this façade, Lotor’s anxiety is at an all-time high? The fact that he does not show it yet doesn’t mean it’s not there. But we’ll begin to see it, as soon as he starts talking to Allura.

En route to Allura, Lotor tells his generals: “Zethrid, Ezor, my deepest apologies for lying to you both, but in order to gain the princess’ trust, and make the Paladins of Voltron believe we were truly at odds, it had to be done. […] Today we will gain access to unlimited quintessence, and together, we usher in a new era of power.”

Did he just slip back under another one of his facades? Did he truly trick Allura and the Paladins? Perhaps yes, but not in the way we are led to believe.

What he says is true - he did have to pretend to be at odds with Zethrid and Ezor in order to gain the Paladins’ trust. Imagine the chaos (not that we wouldn’t have enjoyed it) these ladies would have brought to team Voltron. Would Lotor risk his reputation with such “scoundrels” around the innocent Paladins? I mean… Zethrid replies, “As long as I get to blow something up, I’m good.” That wouldn’t fly with Allura.

Lotor basically gave each side what they expected to hear, while he pushed forward with his agenda. In order to gain Ezor and Zethrid’s trust again, he had to explain himself, and he doesn’t really lie, does he?

But what’s up with ushering “a new era of power”? Hehe, this is where we all get tricked into thinking he wants all the power of the quintessence for his own glory, thus we’re mentally confirming what Allura just said: “He wants to harness the power for himself.” Wrong again, and I’ll link this up to his next statements.

After the Paladins destroy the inter-reality gate, they ready themselves for a confrontation. They expect Lotor to come with guns blazing. Hunk even calculates the odds of three Sincline ships to four Lions. Lance, the team lead in Keith’s absence, orders: “Hold your positions. Let Lotor make the first move.”

Well, Lotor’s first move, even after seeing the gate destroyed, is to seek peace. He does not lie in any of his statements; these all tie in together with what he’s been saying so far. “We need not fight today. We are all on the same side. I know what you all must think of me now that you know my past. It doesn’t have to change our future together. The truth is, I want to harness the power of the quintessence field to better the universe, just like I said. Nothing has changed.”

Allura, raising her voice, replies, “You enslaved countless Alteans. Harnessed their life source for your own personal gain. How many innocent lives did you destroy?”

Lotor calmly attempts to explain: “Allura, I—”

“How many?” she roars back, without allowing him to finish.

(What was he going to say? He was clearly going to divulge exactly the key detail we are missing from the colony story, but Allura, whose temper is out of control, diverts the subject.)

After a deep breath under closed eyes, Lotor replies, “It’s true. Many Alteans perished in my quest to unlock the mysteries of quintessence. But I protected thousands more, and I rescued their culture, our culture.”

Comparing Allura and Lotor’s demeanor, it’s clear that Allura is the fire-starter. Not without reason though; from her perspective, one of a victim of mass-destruction, she has every right to be mad, and we, the viewers, sympathize with her.

On the other hand, Lotor seems to keep it together. He truly loves her, otherwise he wouldn’t try so hard for a peaceful solution. Even Zethrid asks, confused: “Why is he pleading with the Paladins? Why are we not opening fire?”

Ezor says, cynically, “I stopped trying to figure out Lotor’s master plan long ago. Too complicated!”

The only one who seems to comprehend what’s going on in Lotor’s heart is Acxa, who casts a worried glance towards him. Worrisome indeed, because heartbreaks are most terrifying, if things go out of control.

“Allura, you must understand I’ve given everything I have to plumb the depths of King Alfor’s knowledge, to unlock the mysteries of Oriande. Please, Allura, we’ve come too far together. Surely, you can see the greatness we’ve already accomplished. There’s still more to come. Join me. We’re on the same side.”

“No, we’re not!!” Allura screams at the top of her lungs, blasting her Lion’s canon at him.

Notice, Allura fires the first shot. Lotor, in response, yells at his generals: “Hold your fire! Hold your fire!” Acxa is sweating in tension - because she intuits how bad this could go. Zethrid is frustrated, while Ezor looks completely confused.

Lotor, keeping it together with his last emotional energy, is desperately trying to reach Allura. His voice trembles from the emotion, from the utter despair and anguish. His pupils have narrowed, eyes wide open. He sees his most precious relationship falling apart, he’s clinging to a last thread of hope. Allura is the one true love he met after ten thousand years of traumas and the most gifted alchemist. He has given everything he had to arrive here.

Altea awaits them. Together they could bring their people out of the shadows, they could rule a New Altea, “a new era of power” as he told his generals.

“Allura, stop! You and I hold the ancient knowledge of our Altean culture. We were meant to be together. My feelings for you are true - and I know you have feelings for me as well.”

Cry as many rivers you need to, because this is the most tragic declaration of love.

Lotor, right here, wears his heart on his sleeve in front of everyone to see. Vulnerable, open-hearted, sincere - perhaps the most sincere declaration of his entire life, he opens himself up to Allura, he puts his trust in her, with all his wounds and unresolved traumas of the past.

Remember the “I’ll be fine” reply after defeating his father? No, he is not fine, his wounds have never healed.

This is why Allura’s reply falls like a guillotine on his already ravaged soul.

“You betrayed and used me. You’re more like Zarkon than I could have ever imagined!”

Comparing him with Zarkon? The one man who destroyed his life, who terrorized him for eons? We’ve seen his irked reaction to this comparison in the past, but now? Now the emotions are at all-time high. His bleeding heart is out for her to see, and she slays it, full-force.

Every trauma from his past converges here. This is the boiling point, the dam-breaking moment. This is where his hope dies. The moment of agency. (As I said in the beginning, at the critical point of the madness arc, whatever breaks the dam is a world-shattering event: extreme grief, total loss of loved ones, closest allies and friends, the breach of trust towards the world, or a combination of these. The character will try to fix the world and/or get back at the ones who hurt him.)

The shrilling noises of the soundtrack make us cringe, like we could feel the shiver that runs down his spine as his heart suddenly grows cold. He replies with a stark voice. “What about your father? He may have been a master engineer, but Alfor was too weak to defend his home world. I’m the one who had to step up and save our entire race. Who are you to question my tactics in bringing peace and prosperity to the universe?”

Remember his similar reply when he was a prisoner in her castle? It’s his gut reaction to a most sensitive subject: his father. She wants to talk family? He’s punching back with brutal opinions on Alfor, because at this point he desires nothing more but for her to feel the same kind of pain.

“Who are you…?” She’s a stranger. Someone who doesn’t have a place in his heart anymore.

“Destroy the Lions,” he orders his generals over a cold expression. He’s made his choice.

Hell breaks loose.

If you think that the negative effects of the rift trip applied only to Lotor, let me put this in perspective:

Allura is equally overloaded with adrenalin. And from the battle scene, we can see that she is the one attacking him first, her roar as loud as her Lion’s. As the fight continues, Lotor perfectly executes evasive maneuvers around her, continuing to keep a blank expression, until… he erupts, like a volcano of unresolved, under-pressure turmoil:

“Once I wipe out Voltron, I’m going to start a new Altea. An Altea that will never know of Princess Allura or King Alfor. Nor will they know of the Lions of Voltron. All they’ll know is me, their great leader! Hahaha, I’m ready to wipe the universe clean of all my enemies. Voltron, Haggar, and the rest of the Galra!”

Here’s where many of us got him wrong, thinking that this has been Lotor’s real intention from the get-go: to destroy Voltron and rule a new empire for his own glory.

The only way I can properly explain this is through the psychological mechanisms - not only what goes on in Lotor’s mind, but in our mind as well.

1. Let’s start with us. The script so far played to convince us that Lotor planned this evil plot all along. How did we get tricked? Through all the little hints dropped along the way, which I already pointed out. Our knee-jerk reaction naturally ensues as “A-ha, I told you so.” However, many of us began to have doubts.

2. Shifting the focus back on Lotor, here’s what I said right after the scene with the destruction of Ven’tar’s planet: “after Zarkon destroyed his heart, Lotor ran straight into the arms of Mother Altea”.

I remember, earliest childhood memories, that if I was mad at my dad, I would run to my mom. If I was upset on both of them, I’d cry for my grandparents. It’s only natural that the child seeks love, affection, protection, and as we grow older, that Child within us, with all its basic emotions and needs, continues to coexist underneath our Adult.

The bigger the wounds of the past, the larger the needs of the inner Child.

What happens when the Child within us loses all emotional contacts, all the love and support it sorely needs? When all our friends and allies are gone, when we lose contact with reality, when the closest friend and lover stabs us in our deepest wounds… where do we go from there?

Where did the wounded, cornered Child-Lotor escape, away from the cruel reality around him?

What was his last refuge? His last place where he he would always be received with unquestioning devotion by the masses?

ALTEA.

The Alteans praised him as a god, a messiah, their savior. His statue dominated their landscape.

Altea was his life-long project, the only heritage from his real mother, the place where he poured all his passion (“I’ve dedicated my life to preserving the Altean culture.”). Until he met Allura, that had been his only source of love and joy.

Altea was the family he never had.

Who we see here, screaming and kicking, is the wounded, cornered inner Child, irrational, filled with pure negative emotions. There is no reasonable Adult in the picture, no normative Parent, just pure madness. Fear leads to aggression (the Galra way), similar to his reaction of slaying the Lion at Oriande. He screams about becoming the great leader of a new Altea that will never know of Allura, Voltron, Alfor, etc, because ALTEA IS HIS LAST PLACE OF REFUGE, where he hopes to forget about this painful past. Child-Lotor is hurt, deeply hurt, he wants destroy all who wounded him, then run away into the arms of Mother Altea. He descends into madness with guns blazing, ready to get back at those who hurt him, and in an ultimate irrational cry, he includes the Galra in his list of mortal enemies, because they, too, hurt him when he was a child.

He bitterly comments: “Even my generals betray me!” A self-fulfilling prophecy, as he becomes disconnected from literally everyone.

Acxa yells “Lotor, don’t do this!” as he ejects them one by one from the ships. She knows what he’s about to do - form the Sincline robot, because she worked on building the ships. She knows how powerful it can become and realizes how far Lotor is gone.

Sprinkle quintessence atop the irrational, negative emotions and the cocktail for disaster is right there.

Quintessence “reveals evil instincts” indeed, because

negative emotions are evil,

and emotions are instinctual (the definition of emotion is “a natural instinctive state of mind deriving from one's circumstances, mood, or relationships with others”).

Allura recognizes it during their battle inside the rift, when the Paladins begin to drift into rage. “We have to get out of here,” she yells. “This is exactly what happened to Zarkon. Exposure to all this quintessence turned him into a monster!”

—> So, did Lotor harbor “evil instincts” all this time? Well, we all carry negative emotions. The Paladins did too, when they screamed “Let’s destroy that guy!”, “Finish him!”, except that Allura pulled the plug before they could all become corrupted (the best way to prevent drug dependence is to not get exposed in the first place).

—> Does this confirm that he’s been planning this plot all along, that he truly wanted to become the all-powerful, “great leader” of a new Altea that would obliterate Alfor’s legacy? ABSOLUTELY NOT. It only proves that what happened to Lotor was a tragic descent into madness, a resultant of unresolved mental illness accumulated along the millennia, enhanced by a series of misfortunate events and misunderstandings between him and team Voltron, and blown out of proportions by quintessence (and maybe the little entity inside him, too).

After S6 dropped, viewers were complaining that they did not recognize this Lotor, that this was a different person. Well, remember what he said about his mother, when inspecting her science log? “By the end of these logs, it’s like they’re written by a different person. She’s frantic, paranoid, erratic. Her reason and intellect are gone, replaced by fear and paranoia.”

Voilà.

So then, what did Lotor want when he was in his right mind?

Exactly what he said: to bring Altea out of the shadows, into a universe free of violence. Bonus: having Allura with him meant that together, they made sure the quintessence never got into the wrong hands (idealistic, I know, but the man had a dream). Ruling alongside Allura, the “royal alliance”, would have been his most blissful destiny.

Did he plan on destroying all the Galra? I don’t believe so, because he told Allura that he wanted to “meet the needs of the Galra”.

Maybe get rid of some inconvenient warlords? For sure, they’d all rot with the ice worms.

Maybe install an Altean leadership instead? “A new era of power?” It’s quite possible that might have been in the back of his mind. Who knows, maybe it would have turned just like the alternate reality where the Paladins traveled, where the enemies of Altea were turned into “non-cogs”. Anything is possible, we’d have to ask the writers what they had in mind.

Did he dream of becoming the “great leader”? Maybe not in a megalomaniac way, but he probably envisioned himself as a benevolent emperor, since he had a huge need for validation and love. His giant statue is a testament to that.

Did he want all the power for himself? No. All evidence points to the fact that he was willing to share it with Allura (“royal alliance”), with Voltron, with the Coalition. He even tells them, through boiling wrath: “It didn’t have to end like this.”

Some voices insist that Lotor could have told Allura (at least Allura, not the others) about his secret colonies, but because he was hiding that, it meant that he was hiding evil intents. No, he couldn’t tell anyone, his hands were tied because of Haggar stalking him. When Allura was piloting Voltron, her mind was connected with the rest of the Paladins. If Haggar had access to clone-Shiro’s mind, what would prevent her from tapping into the others’ minds?

“Now we will see how Alfor’s legacy stands against the new Altean defender!” screams Lotor during his clash against Voltron.

Altean… DEFENDER? I know this is irrational Lotor talking, but maybe this had been his plan all along? To create defenders for Altea, machines capable of fending off Galra invaders? If this is what his second colony was all about, then Allura’s visions in S8 also make sense - her mother telling her about protecting Altea against the Galra. Speculating.

As the battle heats up, Sincline jumps in and out of the quintessence field at will. Along with that, we begin to see him turn more and more rogue, as the quintessence gradually poisons him.

“Unlimited power is mine. All realities will fall to the new Altean Empire.”

A new Altea, a new Altean defender, and now… a new Altean Empire. At the peak of his madness, new delusions of grandeur emerge - yes, now he wants unlimited power - but perhaps we can also take a little peek into his secret wishes? He’d dream of replacing the Galra ruling with an Altean leadership? It would make sense, since he loved Altea so much.

These are 100% madness tantrums: if nobody loves me, I’ll destroy all of you and rebuild my own world.

It very much resembles Honerva’s peak of madness: “If I cannot experience the simple joys of life, why should anyone else?” (Translation: If nobody gives me what I want, then screw you all.)

-----------------------------

We know the rest of Lotor’s arc, or what remains of it. Left in the quintessence field, then recovered by his mother in S8E6 “Genesis”, and, for the following episodes, Sincline is dangled in front of the audience like a carrot, only to wave goodbye to his ghost in the end, with a short “he deserved better” conclusion. Oh, let’s not forget about the cOrPse.

—————————————

Earlier I talked about the “alleged truth” that Romelle brought to the story, because up to this date we don’t know exactly the entire backstory of the colony, yet…

A. We were told all along the remaining of S6, entire S7 and almost all S8 that Lotor was

“a monster” (Romelle, S6E4),

“a murderer” (Pidge, S6E4),

someone who “fooled” everyone around him for his own power (Allura, S6E6),

who harnessed the Alteans’ life source for his “own personal gain” (Allura, S6E6),

a man who “preached unity, but in the end he only sought power” (Acxa, S7E3),

who “used” his allies, leading them down “a painful path, a never-ending cycle of destruction and loss” (Acxa, S8E5)

B. Out of nowhere, Allura exonerates him in the last episode of the series, asking Honerva to “honor” her son: “Lotor may have been misguided, but ultimately, he wanted to preserve life.”

So which one is it: A or B?

You don’t suddenly honor someone after you called them “murderer”, power-seeking “monster”, unless… something of extraordinary importance has been unveiled, to properly provide an exoneration of his character.

Was it ever unveiled? No.

Then, rational deduction… #LotorWasFramed?

I think so.

It started as writers’ deliberate story framing (proof provided in my above analysis), leading the audience to believe in a “he-was-evil-all-along” nature of Lotor, with the clear expectation of a much larger reveal later down the series, that would subvert the “villain” trope. In my opinion - based on logical deductions and supported by evidence of altered animation circulating in the fandom extensively, the big reveal was excised from S8, the only clues left residing in… metaphors and visions - Allura’s visions.

Reason of such excision? Just like the tragedy of Lotor’s arc, the tragedy of VLD lied in the conflict between the IP owner’s commercial target (toys for boys aged 6-12 and robot cartoons with classic, simple tropes such as good vs. evil, boy-hero gets the pretty girl, etc) and the actual execution of the story, which deployed complex characters like Lotor, Allura, Honerva, the Paladins, and so on, embraced by a different audience niche. Yet, even if the finale of S8 attempted to erase such complexity in order to realign the series with the aforementioned commercial intent, the creators nevertheless managed to insert their concluding message into the final episode - Lotor ultimately wanted to preserve life - thus, he deserved better.

———————————————

Season 8, although I consider it incomplete in regards to Lotor’s arc (and other arcs as well), does provide us with some interesting hints at what could have been, if the story hadn’t been altered, which would have further elucidated Lotor’s overall arc, because these hints contribute to showing us his true nature.

—> In S8E6 “Genesis”, Sincline has the target locked onto Allura, yet it does not open fire. We clearly see through Lotor’s eyes, as he readies his aim.

There is no doubt that a sentient soul coordinates the decision not to shoot. This reminds me of Zarkon’s singular confession to his son: “She was my only weakness.” Similarly, Allura is Lotor’s only weakness.

This scene begs a series of logical questions (*cough*, I love logic): if a sentient being operates Sincline, how can Lotor be dead? A dead man cannot operate Sincline.

If Honerva uses the entity to remote-control her living subjects and she also remote-controls Sincline, then logic would suggest that… a living subject, infected with the entity, inhabits the cockpit. Not a corpse.

Honerva tells Allura: “I am the only thing keeping my son at bay.” Um, she can’t really keep a dead son at bay, can she?

If he’s alive, then why are we shown the suggestion of a corpse, in S8E10? Or was it another altered scene? NB: static images are easy to redraw.

Also, motes of purple quintessence effuse from the “corpse”. We’ve seen these before, with Zarkon and Honerva right after coming back from the rift.

If the assumptions above are correct, then this scene would further align with what I have said in my previous metas regarding Zarkon and Honerva: the entity’s takeover happens as a gradual progression towards complete disconnect from self. At this point in the story, Lotor would be at the far end of the madness spectrum, completely possessed by the entity and overloaded with quintessence. This would create a coherent story, paralleling those of Zarkon and Honerva.

This theory about Lotor having the entity would also justify the next point:

—> Allura’s visions in S8E8 are a rich source of information.

Just like Honerva can telepathically connect with her subjects via the entity, if Lotor has the entity and he has a strong attachment to Allura, then he is telepathically causing her dream.

Since what Lotor tells Allura about the entity turns out to be true, why wouldn’t the other elements of her dream be true, too? (“nothing ever truly goes extinct” = he’s not really dead; “we both seek to destroy Haggar” = Lotor has been fighting Haggar all along; he’s showing her how to fight Haggar, because that’s how he did it in the past - and that can be seen as an explanation for his second colony, because it clearly implies that sacrifices have been made).

If Allura’s dream provides an allegory to Lotor’s second colony, it would justify the meaning of Lotor’s words: “they were martyrs to a noble cause.”

Also, this statement would provide backup: “Many Alteans perished in my quest to unlock the mysteries of quintessence. But I protected thousands more…” If he was looking for a way to use the entity and the quintessence to defend his colony against the Galra, then he was definitely on a quest to unlock their mysteries, to protect the thousands more.

In this context, the heist of the teludav lens in S3E6 has a justification, as he may have intended to use Alteans to operate it, in another one of his “quests”.

Although the origin of the clandestine, pure white vats of quintessence was never fully explained (the quintessence allegedly extracted from the second colony Alteans actually looked quite purple), the story made it clear that Lotor was using the ultra-pure variety to infuse at least his Sincline ships with it. If he calls his Sincline the new Altean Defender, perhaps he tested other vehicles as well, using that pure white quintessence?

These would all tie together his arc, and the last statement of the story would make absolute sense: “ultimately, he wanted to preserve life.”

—> Aside from these remarks, there are many other metaphorical takes to Allura’s vision.

Ghost!Lotor visiting Allura in her bedroom immediately sent my thoughts to a folklore myth that is common to many cultures, from South America to Africa, to Northern and Eastern Europe and beyond. The “incubus” is a demon or a soul that visits sleeping women, in some traditions thought to be a man who was rejected during his lifetime by a woman, seeking to get back to his lost love. A symbol of unrequited love, erotic temptations or female desires, the incubus bears many names, according to each folklore. “I thought you’d be happy to see me,” says Ghost!Lotor, perhaps reading her mind?

“The ancients believed that all of life began with a single juniberry flower.” Foreshadowing the last episode’s rebirth of the universe, perhaps Lotor was supposed to accompany her in the grand restoration?

————————————

Even without S8, my point is that Lotor’s story followed a madness arc, slowly evolving along his multi-millennial life, and subtly hinted at throughout the show. Despite arriving at the same level of insanity as his parents, the reasons for his downfall were truly tragic, and, had the last season been allowed to develop as intended by the writers, Lotor would have been vindicated through a fully-fledged arc, just like his parents - thus, he deserved better and, in my opinion, the writers deserved better. The proof is in the details, and I’ve zoomed in quite a bit during this analysis. VLD gave us an amazing show with complex characters and most inspiring animation art.

This is probably my last meta on VLD. Going forward, I’ll focus more on the bright side of things: fan art and fanfics. See you on the other side! 😘

[farfromstrange]

Hello!

I read Angel on the Roof and that was AMAZING. I was feeling like that way and honestly that was exactly what I needed to read. Thank you for writing!

I have a request! Maybe alternate ending + sequel of the fic if you are interested/have time, where Matt did notice it and in this universe it’s going to be more comforting. OR maybe whole new story where reader is having mental illness, angst but comfort in the end?

Again I LOVE your writing can’t wait for another Matt fics!!! Thank youuuu !!!

Okay, nonnie, first of all, I hope you're doing okay! I hope you're feeling better, too. I know how hard it can be to feel this way and I wrote that fic when I was at one of the lowest points in my life. I'm glad you liked it, but I also hope you're taking good care of yourself! I love you. Now to your request, I re-read Angel On The Roof and I remembered why it was so sad, and I'm so glad you requested a comfort version. I decided to do it from Reader's POV since the original was Matt's POV and I've changed the ending, so it's still the same foundation, but you've also got a whole new fic. I hope you like the way I did it!

Angel On The Roof (Your Version)

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader (she/her)

Summary: What if Matt saved you from your own demons instead of being too late?

Warnings: TW: SELF-HARM, graphic descriptions of self-harm, blood, scars, ANGST, mental illness, suicide attempt, hurt/comfort, happy ending, fix it fic for a fic

Word Count: 3k

A/n: So you can read "Angel On The Roof" here. Like I said before, this is the mentioned fic from your POV but with a twist so that it ends without Reader committing suicide. If the above-mentioned topics trigger you, please don't read! Not tagging because this is a sensitive subject and I go really into detail.

18+ THIS IS HEAVY STUFF!

Mental illness speaks in silence. 

Unlike a broken leg, you can’t see a sickness of the mind. There is no physical proof for the scary truth that something is going not quite right inside of your brain. And because people can’t see it, they have a hard time believing the truth. They have a hard time believing that being sick in the head could even affect you this much, so they try to sell your pain as worth less than it is. How could thoughts possibly turn paralyzing? How could someone’s mind make them feel worthless to the point the affected person sees no other way out but to inflict pain onto themselves? Attention whores, it’s what those people like to call the struggling ones. Lazy, weak, selfish… every mentally ill person has heard one of those words being used to describe them one way or another. 

Mental illness speaks in silence because if we spoke louder, people would only sneer and turn their backs on us. Mental illness speaks in silence because suffering alone seems better than burdening someone else. And mental illness speaks in silence because those who are mentally ill live in a different world. Their heads work differently. Mental illness speaks in silence because pain paralyzes, and silent acts are the only way someone so stuck in the claws of the faceless monster knows how to ask for help. By the time people consider questioning certain behavior though, it is often too late, and the person soon enough feels as if they’re being a burden once more because the judging looks are worse than admitting you need help in the first place. 

The monster that is mental illness is cruel and it has no regard for you or the people around you. It has set out to destroy you, and you feel helpless as it tears a knife through your soul and picks your heart apart piece by piece. And those who say, ‘Just ask for help’ or ‘Don’t be scared to speak up’ clearly don’t know how hard it can be to break out of such a circle once you’re already active in it. 

Self-harm is considered a serious addiction on the roster, but most people see it merely as a symptom of many personality disorders or mood disorders. Those who seemingly know nothing about mental illness even like to call it a call for attention. As if self-mutilation would ever be a conscious choice made by anyone. You try to fight a pain that no one can see and only you can feel, and sometimes, when you feel so much - too much - it gets deafening and you need another pain to balance it out. 

Drugs aren’t the only thing hurting you that can result in addiction. There is a long list of things that harm the mind and body, and that is often used as a coping mechanism for the terrible things most people are forced to feel inside. 

You don’t remember when it started. You only remember that you were merely a child when you first started feeling this way. Helpless, alone, and with a pain deep inside of your chest that had claws and sharp teeth, ready to eat you whole. The monster ate away at you for years, but you ignored it. 

People told you it was just hormones, that this was part of growing up. Meanwhile, you only got sicker. Your mind turned against you. You became your own worst bully, and the voices in your head started taking you apart one by one. 

You reached a point where you loathed yourself so much, all you wanted was to scratch your eyes out and tear your skin off. You hated looking in the mirror and seeing the same miserable face every day. You hated being the friend that was the least fun and being stuck inside with this hurt consuming you. It made it harder to breathe, it made your heart stop in your chest, and yet you never physically died. Inside, you were long gone, but you ignored it because no one seemed to care. 

You tried drugs and alcohol, but that wasn’t enough to kill your pain, and you never fully managed to end it all. Your existence became a nuisance. 

You never believed in God. The constant self-pity, shame, guilt, and blame became your best friends. In your mind, you fucked up your own life. Your mind was fucked up, so you were automatically at fault. You ended up being in so much blood-boiling pain, you tried to find a way to inflict pain in other ways to distract you from the numbness that burned your insides like acid would burn the cells of your skin in an instant, and the toxic waste ended up in your bloodstream, then your mind and in the end, it poisoned your heart and your soul. 

You truly believed you were rotten inside, and there was nothing that seemed to help.

You turned to cutting, the blood running from your wrists a testament to your pain, and it made breathing so much easier for just a moment. The razor blades were the brush with which you painted the tiles of your bathroom floor red almost every night. You weren’t proud of it, but you had no one to listen, no one to help you and you just felt so fucking numb– You had to find something to relieve you of this pain for a simple moment, and a moment was all it took to get you hooked on the feeling. It was a different kind of pain, and your wrists looked mutilated, even long after you were done, but whenever you brushed over the scars, you felt the need to do it again, and so you did. 

One summer night, you found your way to one of the rooftops in Hell’s Kitchen. You didn’t want to jump, but having the choice to do so filled your body with a certain sense of relief. If you had jumped, you would have died. You could have broken your neck and ended it all. You would have died on your way down already, probably, or maybe you would have passed out. 

The world seemed so small from up there, but you were still alone. 

That night, you felt his presence for the first time. He wore a black mask; you had seen him on the news a while back, but word on the streets had it that the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen disappeared. After Wilson Fisk got imprisoned, he must have found his way back. 

“I don’t want to jump,” you assured him. “I just want to feel.” It wasn’t a lie. Your heart beat slow and steady in your chest and against your ribcage. The wind in your hair cooled the sheen of sweat from the early summer heat. 

He didn’t talk, he simply stood by your side. You were too tired to ask him why. When you sat down, he followed shoulder to shoulder, together. Your tears had dried on your cheeks and you watched the clouds pass by, hide and reveal new stars, and you pointed out the constellations in your head. He wouldn’t let you fall, it seemed, and so you simply stayed there. It was the first time someone seemed to care without trying to fix you. 

You were okay.

He walked you home before sunrise and asked you again, “Are you gonna be okay?”

“Yes,” you answered. In the moment, you usually were. 

You smiled and thanked him, and he told you, “If you ever need to talk, well… you know I’ll find you if you call for me.”

One day, after finding you on the roof again (at this point, you weren’t sure why you were doing it anymore), it started to rain. He offered to walk you home and asked you if you were okay again. You offered him to stay. 

“Who hurt you?” he asked you once you bid him inside. 

You brewed some tea, offering him a mug. He took it. You shrugged as an answer to his question. The numbness settled back in. You had no tears left to shed. Did he care? You weren’t sure. People often liked to ask for no reason whatsoever, and you knew if you told them, they would have called you crazy. 

“I hurt myself,” you said. 

He caught your wrist when you tried to walk away. His fingers dug into the fresh scars without trying to, but it hurt and it functioned as a cruel reminder of what your arms looked like. Of what you did. Instead of numbness, what you felt was guilt, and when his mouth contorted, you knew he realized something wasn’t right. 

You were so stupid, you thought and pulled away from him. How could anyone ever care or love a broken mess of nothingness like you? You weren’t worthy of anyone’s affection. This – the scars on your wrists and the hole in your chest – was what you deserved. 

He didn’t run though. The stranger tilted his head as if to understand you.

“Why?” he asked. 

It made you think. Why, exactly, were you doing this? 

“Because I need to feel something other than this pain that is numbing me,” you admitted. 

You were so honest with him that night, and it seemed to surprise him, but he also listened to every last word coming out of your mouth. 

He let go of your wrist then and said, “Have you ever asked someone for help?” 

“Why would I?” you asked. 

“Because there are people who can help when you’re hurting.” 

Fixing you, that was what he meant. There were people who could fix you, but you didn’t want to be fixed. You couldn’t be fixed. Everyone always tried to fix you and you were so sick and tired of being the one everyone deemed broken all the time. 

“Perhaps you should go,” you said and opened the door for him. You had to end it there. 

One night, you cut too deep, and the world caved in on you. You had no choice but to endure it, but you broke under the weight like a fragile vase. You cut too deep, and the blood mingled on the floor with your tears. It hurt – the cuts weren’t the worst part because they only thudded numbly in sync with your pulse; the worst part was the bomb in your chest exploding and sending all these feelings hurdling around. 

God, you hated yourself. 

You always kept your windows unlocked. What you didn’t expect was for him to climb through your window. Only when he kicked the door down did you look up, your face stained with tears. He tilted his head, seemingly smelling the air, before he knelt beside you and wrapped towels around your bleeding wrists. The essence of your heart was on the floor now, the vase broken, and he cleaned it up without hesitation. 

You didn’t deserve such gentle treatment. 

You sobbed into his strong arms until there was nothing left to give. Instead of leaving though, he stayed. He took you to bed and bandaged your wrists, still keeping the black mask right where it was. It was you curious, and you hadn’t felt curious in quite a while. 

He stopped the bleeding without problems, and then he lay beside you as you regained some sense of self. 

“Why do you keep doing it?” he asked eventually. His finger ran over the bandage he had applied earlier. “Why do you keep hurting yourself?”

You shivered. “It wouldn’t make sense even if I told you,” you said. 

Because even to you, it didn’t make sense.

“Try me.”

“No, you wouldn’t understand. You barely even know me and I don’t know you. Why do you keep doing this, D?”

“Matthew,” he told her. “That is my name.”

It was the first display of trust he showed you, and you were a little taken aback. 

Your lips parted and you whispered your name into the darkness. He smiled softly, taking your weak hand into his.

“Nice to meet you,” he said. 

You stared at him for a while before asking something that almost came naturally. “Can you stay?” your voice was barely above a whisper. 

He battled with himself before giving in, agreeing to stay, and you felt something in your heart turn around. A candle was lit. Was that the scent of hope you could smell? You weren’t sure, but the fact he held your hand as you tried to find your way into a restless sleep and never once waivered with his support filled you with a sense of safety, and finally, for once in your life, the voices went quiet. You focused on his heartbeat and breathing, and you finally felt less alone. 

The next morning, your window was closed again and he was gone, probably disappearing in the middle of the night. You found a note on the dining table, poorly scribbled, but you could decipher what he wrote. 

It’s because I care about you, Angel.

He cared. About you. You broke down crying, not used to this much affection, but it was also then you realized that it was what you desperately needed. 

You looked at your bandaged wrist, then your reflection in the metallic shimmer of your fridge, and you made a decision you should have made from the beginning. 

You waited on the rooftop again that night, this time the one of your apartment complex. He appeared not long after you whispered his name into the humid night air. Cars passed by and the city grew louder by the minute, but he still came. 

He wore his mask again. 

“Will I ever see your face?” you wondered aloud.

He chuckled. “It wouldn’t be a good idea.”

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen knowingly never did home visits. 

“Can you see mine?” you asked. 

“No,” he said. “I can’t see yours.”

Your breath shuddered. 

“What’s wrong?”

“You changed something in me last night.”

Matthew seemed to pipe up at your admission, and he took a step closer. “Oh yeah?” he asked.

“Yes,” you breathed. 

“What did I change?”

“You saved my life.”

“I only came because you needed someone.”

You asked, “Is that why you always come to these rooftops?” 

He shrugged. “You call, I come,” Matthew said. “That’s all there is to it.”

But it wasn’t all. 

With a weak sniffle, you closed the distance between you and fell into his arms. He caught you, holding you close to him. His heart thudded in your ear like the night before, and you couldn’t hold it back anymore. Years of pain, sadness, and anger fell off your shoulders, leaving you even more broken than before, but for the first time, you felt it all. And you knew you couldn’t live like this any longer. 

“I need–” you choked on a sob. It burned in your lungs. 

His grip tightened. “What do you need, Angel?”

“I need help,” it was the first time you said it, but the moment the words left your mouth, Matthew vowed to stay by your side. 

That night, he took his mask off for the first time after taking you home. You saw his face, and you felt a sense of relief. He was beautiful, inside and out, but he was also incredibly human. His blind eyes were unfocused, but you only touched his cheek with tender fingers. You owed him your life, and you made sure to show him that. 

“Matt Murdock,” he introduced himself. 

You gave him the courtesy of doing the same. 

He smiled, and you saw something in his eyes that would end up changing your entire life. 

Love. 

That cruel time of finding back to yourself after years of self-harm and depression is in the past, it has been for a while now.

The sun stands high in the sky above New York. A long time ago, summer filled you with dread. As you’re staring out through the windows of your home now, all you can think about is how beautiful the world is. The city stands tall in the distance, and you find yourself smiling into your cup of chamomile tea. 

The light reflects off the golden wedding band on your ring finger. Your name stands in Braille letters next to his with a heart of diamonds. It’s unique, special, just like your love story. 

When you first met him, you never thought you would end up here, but he woke you up from your coma and you found your way back to the light. He helped you, he supported you and he made sure you would always have someone to turn to. 

Years later now, you’re wearing his name and ring on your finger, and you have a home that truly feels like one because he is in it with you. He is your home, your haven, your sanctuary, and you owe him more than he will ever know. 

A pair of arms snakes around your waist and pull you back into a sturdy chest. You smile even more. “Hi,” you whisper. 

Matt presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Hi,” he says. 

“The sun is out.”

“I know, I can feel it.”

“Right. Even after all these years, I still tend to forget I’m married to a superhero,” you say, albeit teasing, but your words also hold a mountain of truth. 

He chuckles. “You’re forgiven, Mrs. Murdock.”

“Oh, I’m glad.”

Matt’s hold on you tightens. Now that he has you, he refuses to let you go. “What were you thinking about just then?” he asks. 

You lick your lips, closing your eyes as your body melts into his almost naturally. “You and me,” you say, “and how far we’ve come.”

“Mhm.”

“And that I can’t wait to start a family with you one day and give our children the support I’ve never had.”

He tears up a little at that, you can hear it in his voice when he whispers, “I love you,” and he turns you around to capture your lips in a loving kiss. 

You realize it then for the millionth time since that night you first ran into the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen on the roof; Getting help was the best choice of your life, and no scar on his or your body matter now that you���ve got each other.

You belong in each other’s arms, today, tomorrow, and forever and always. Just like you said in your vows – there is nothing you can’t overcome, as long as you’re doing it together. 

[jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka]

This was so fun to write! I hope you enjoy part 2!

Pairings: Jake Kiszka X Danny Wagner *ssslash

Warnings and tags: 18+ only, no minors! Adult themes including: partner death (past tense), fatal illness, brief mentions of depressive attitudes, some drinking, little bit of flirting, dad Jake AU, uncle Danny AU

Word count: 4k

Another end to a week and soon it was Saturday. Jake was back on the field with the kids, jogging backwards alongside them as he taught them how to attempt making passes with the balls. It wasn’t exactly going well, but he didn’t expect much from only the second day of practice.

The kids were having fun and that was all that really mattered so he wasn’t hard on them at all. He was having a good time watching their little feet and legs try to maneuver the checkered balls, giggling himself when one of them would trip up and he’d have to quickly catch them before they surly ate some grass.

There was to be no crying on the field under his watch.

A few parents had come to see their kids learn the sport, though most just sat in their folding lawn chairs and clapped from the sidelines. Emma’s mom was here. She’d made it a point to come up to Jake before practice started and invite him over for lunch afterwards, to which he said he’d consider it.

Honestly, he hadn’t had much time to think about Danny since the other day, but he’d suddenly gotten a strange feeling in his gut when walking over to the field this afternoon. He had no idea if Danny would be there today, and he wasn’t sure if he’d mentally prepared himself to deal with any antics today. It was a relief to see he wasn’t there, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be at the house for lunch.

“Can I go play at Emma’s house? Pleeease?” Luna asked in her sweetest, trying to pull on her dad’s heartstrings, voice.

“Michael has been outside grilling all afternoon. We’ve got plenty of food” Emma’s mom sweetened the deal with the promise of barbecue, and after that little cardio workout Jake had to admit he was pretty hungry.

“Oh all right, just for a little while” Jake finally agreed and both kids squealed with excitement.

“So how’s it going with the foundation?” She casually made small talk as they all started their walk back towards the houses.

“It’s been going. We hit a few snags with securing some donations out on the west coast. Thought for a second I was going to have to go out there myself to get it all sorted out, but my team came through in the end”.

“That’s good to hear. It’s great what you guys do for musical education”. She almost always asked Jake about his job when she got the chance to chat with him. Jake didn’t mind, he loved his job, a legacy left behind.

“By the way, I’ve been thinking about putting Emma in some piano lessons” she continued, “you wouldn’t happen to know anyone would you?” Though she didn’t come right out and ask him, the look she gave him and the tone in her voice suggested what she really meant was would he teach her. “I’ve seen that beautiful piano in your house”.

“That was June’s” Jake informed her that the piano she mentioned wasn’t exactly his, but his late wife’s. “I could teach her how to play guitar” he chuckled nervously, fidgeting with the strap of his backpack, “but piano might be a little out of my expertise”.

“Oh, I see” she trailed off, almost sorry she’d unintentionally brought up a possibly sensitive subject.

Jake offered her a warm smile in return, trying to show her he didn’t mind at all. He liked talking about her, and actually he kind of wished people would ask about her more often so he could feel free and happy to reminisce instead of everyone just trying to tiptoe around it.

“I really wish I could’ve met her. I bet she was an amazing woman”.

She was the most amazing woman he’d ever met, Jake thought to himself. They had met at an event for the foundation he now worked for. He was only nineteen at the time, still just a kid in the eyes of the seasoned professionals he was so anxious to be getting a chance to mingle with.

Being a freelance musician, Jake was just trying to book whatever he could with the help of his manager, who happened to be friends with some people also invited to this party. Jake hadn’t expected much of anything to come from that night. Maybe have a few (nonalcoholic) drinks with some like natured musicians, learn some tips of the industry, if he was lucky and smooth talked enough maybe score his next gig. What he never expected was meeting June.

They spent practically the whole night standing at a high top table at the corner of the room together, just getting to know each other. He told her he played the guitar and she modestly revealed that she was a singer who also played a few instruments of her own. She was twenty-one at the time so she was drinking sparkling wine and Jake couldn’t tell if the flush in her cheeks was from him, or the glass in her hand. Either way he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

At the end of the night he gave her his number, praying she would give him a call. After two long days of beating himself up for not just asking for her number instead, she called him and they set up a lunch date.

It was then he found out she was the only daughter of the owners of the foundation who’s party they’d met at. She had spent most of the past two years traveling around with them going to events like the night before, meeting musicians and trying to fundraise money for musical programs in schools.

She had decided now that she wanted to settle down for a bit, write some pieces and even possibly work on an album. Jake was extremely excited when she invited him to the studio with her, and before he knew it they were collaborating and eventually dating as well.

Two years of hard work and their album was finally hitting the market. The combination of Jake’s crafty acoustic and effortlessly executed electric guitar riffs, with her smooth powering vocals and elegant instrumentals made for popular reviews. They toured together for a while, most of their shows profits giving back to her family’s foundation.

Jake and June never denied the dating rumors. It was blatantly obvious with the palpable chemistry between them both on and off stage, and as soon as touring was over they were eloping up in the mountains of her family home.

It seemed so unreal looking back on the way it all happened. Jake was crying tears of happiness when he found out she was pregnant with Luna, but the tears soon turned sorrowful when all the blood testing along with early pregnancy confirmed June’s worst nightmare, her diagnosis.

The doctors assured them that the pregnancy didn’t put her or the baby at risk, but Jake could tell when she started getting sick because she didn’t sing anymore. She just didn’t have the strength in her lungs to do so.

Thankfully Luna did arrive perfectly fine, and they’d had nearly a full year together before June took a turn for the worst. She was bedridden on their daughter’s first birthday, and Jake couldn’t stand to see the pain it caused her to not be able to be the mother she always wanted to be.

The next thing he knew, she was gone and he was navigating life as a parent alone. He decided making music and playing shows couldn’t be a stable job for a toddler, so he inherited his wife’s shares of the foundation where he started to work full time.

“She would’ve loved you guys, especially Emma and Luna getting so close. She always wanted a big family since she was an only child”. Jake smiled again as he watched the kids chase each other through the yard once they finally reached the house. “Are you an Michael thinking about having anymore?”

She turned quiet herself this time, shrugging her shoulders as she held the door open for him after the kids plowed through to get to playing in the backyard. “We’ll see” she replied, absently like it wasn’t a topic she really preferred to get into right now.

Jake followed her through their home to the French doors that opened up onto their back patio. Emma’s dad was finishing up at the grill so they started setting up the table with napkins, cups and utensils, some chips, everything you’d need for an afternoon barbecue.

“Is there anything I can help with?” Jake asked, feeling awkward about just standing there as they worked. He’d had plenty of meals at their house, and shared his dining room with them as well, so he wasn’t uncomfortable but he still considered himself a guest and offered his assistance.

“Oh I’ve got some potato salad in the fridge, would you mind grabbing that and some ice from the kitchen?”

Without hesitation Jake made his way back inside, easily navigating his way to his destination, stopping dead in his tracks when he rounded the corner and saw the kitchen wasn’t as empty as he’d expected it to be.

“Looking for this?” Danny smirked as he held what looked like the bowl of potato salad he’d been sent for.

“No” Jake blurted out, his mind too preoccupied with trying, and failing, to look away from the man standing in front of him. He was in black jeans again, maybe even the same ones from their first encounter, and another t-shirt. Only this t-shirt instead of having the sleeves cut off had the last two inches chopped away so that the hem hung just above his belted waistband.

All he had to do was shift a bit and Jake was getting a peak at his navel, decorated with a patch of dark hair. There was something else too, something silver just barely hidden underneath the cotton. A belly button piercing? He couldn’t be sure, but he absolutely was not getting any closer to get a better look or letting himself get caught staring.

“Ice” he spoke in another one word sentence, but didn’t move a muscle to retrieve said ice.

“Here, I got it” Danny set the bowl down on the island that separated them and stepped over to the cabinets. He had his back facing Jake now, but as he opened the cabinet and reached onto the top shelf for a metal container for the ice Jake could see how far the shirt rose with the stretch, exposing smooth tanned skin and a pair of back dimples.

Jake continued to watch in silence as Danny filled the bucket up before turning back around. “Want to take that and I’ll take this?” He raised his eyebrows and nodded his head slightly towards the bowl on the counter.

“Okay” Jake approached the island like a skittish cat. One wrong move from Danny and he’d be scurrying off. Danny only waited patiently for Jake to reach over and slide the bowl across the granite then he wrapped his arm around it and held it close to his body.

“Your hair looks nice by the way” Danny muttered quietly when Jake was closer.

Jake brows furrowed in confusion before he could catch himself. He’d let his hair down from the clip he’d thrown it up in at practice, but all he’d had was his fingers to haphazardly comb through it. He couldn’t imagine that it looked ‘nice’ right now.

“It looks good down is what I mean” Danny elaborated, moving past him to head outside before someone came looking for them.

“There you are! I was sure you didn’t get lost just going to the kitchen” his sister called them over to the table when she spotted them through the door.

She had the kids already rounded up, sitting together at one end with a plate each and barbecue sauce already smeared on their faces. Practice must’ve made them just as hungry as Jake was.

Jake took a seat next to Luna, Michael sat at the end of the table and his wife to his right. That left the seat across from Jake open, and the seat next to him on Michael’s left. Great, either he’d be trying to avoid looking at Danny while he ate, or he’d be sitting right next to him.

He turned to check on Luna making sure she had a napkin and enough water before he planned to get back up and make a plate for himself. The seat next to him was drug across the concrete as Danny pulled it out to take a seat, but then the sound of a plate sliding across the table made Jake look over.

Danny sent him a smile as the plate ended up right in front of Jake, setting his own plate down in front of his chair next then leaving to get drinks.

“Thanks” Jake mumbled when Danny handed him a water as well.

“You know Danny plays the guitar too” his sister commented as she watched their little interaction, stabbing her fork into some of the potato salad.

“Really?” Jake replied, too polite to ignore her conversation. “Is he any good?” What he could do though was talk to her like their subject wasn’t nearly brushing shoulders with him as he picked up his fork.

“He is. At least from what I can remember he hasn’t played in a while”.

“That’s because my Gibson got stolen” Danny interjected.

“I don’t see how that’s anyone’s fault but your own” she scolded him.

Jake was able to get a few bites in as they argued back and forth for a moment when he noticed Michael was being unusually quiet. He chalked it up to letting Danny and his sister have their moment. He himself knew how family bickering could go.

“I’m thinking about getting a new one though. Maybe when I do I could come over and we could jam”.

Jake nearly choked on his water at Danny’s bold suggestion, but he somehow managed to swallow it down and look his way. “Umm, yeah that could be cool”. Shit, why did he agree?

“Cool” Danny flashed another smile and Jake focused on his plate again, already thinking of excuses he could use to get out of that.

“Daddy, I’m done” Luna tugged on Jake’s arm to get his attention after a little while of eating and chatting. “Can we go play in Emma’s room?”

“Ask Emma’s mom if she can be excused from the table” he answered her as he gathered up her mess.

“Of course, you kids run along and play, I’ll be right back” she quickly replied as she got up to grab something from inside. Danny jumped up to help Jake clear the kids plates, stacking them and all the trash together and carrying it to be thrown away, the kids following behind him.

“Have any interesting cases right now?” Jake asked Michael when it was just the two of them left outside.

“Nothing really interesting, just a lot” he replied simply.

“I hear you’ve been having to stay late quite a bit, I’m always happy to help with Emma”. He watched as Michael nodded, though his attention seemed to be focused behind Jake. Looking over his shoulder just barely in view behind the glass doors Danny and his sister seemed to be deep in discussion again.

Like she could sense their eyes on her, she quickly came back out, carrying a wine bottle and two glasses. “A client gave this to us, you have to try it at least once” she insisted as she poured herself and Jake a glass.

They talked for a while longer, one glass turning into two before Jake had to cut himself off, but she went ahead and finished the bottle with her third. At some point Michael had gotten up and went inside. Jake found it odd he wasn’t socializing at all today, but maybe he was just overworked and needed a break. God knows he knew what it was like to need a break.

“Well I better get Luna and head home. We still have homework she didn’t want to do last night”.

“Go ahead, I’m going to clean up a little bit out here. It was good catching up”.

“It’s always a pleasure” he replied, then got up feeling his head rush a little bit with the motion. It’s a good thing they only had a short walk home because that wine was potent, three glasses would’ve definitely gotten him into some trouble.

When he was back inside he could already hear the giggling of the children coming from the living room instead of the hallway with the bedrooms. “Luna? Time to go sweetheart” he called out.

He was right, they were in the living room, and so was Danny who looked up at him from where he sat on the floor in front of a kids play desk. He had about a dozen rainbow butterfly clips fixed in his curls, and his hands were spread across the tiny desk while Emma painted them silver with sparkles.

“Daddy! Can I see your phone?” Luna jumped up from the couch that had hair accessories scattered across its cushions, no doubt the next pieces to be added to Danny’s look.

“What for?” He asked, letting her grab onto his hand and pull him further into the room.

“Danny said we can add him as a friend on TikTok” she answered him, already trying to pry his phone from his front pocket.

“Is that so?” Jake retrieved his phone first, looking over at Danny in question.

“Only if you send me those slime scooping videos. Those are my favorite” he told her to which she jumped up and down giggling.

Jake reluctantly unlocked his phone and opened the app he’d only installed so that he and Luna could watch cute farm animal videos on and such, she loved those. He let Danny tell him his username and added him as a friend. “Alright can we go now?”

“Bye Emma! I’ll see you at school on Monday!” Luna waved to her, then to Danny.

“Careful!” Emma scolded him when he tried to wave back, checking his nails for smudges when he quickly obeyed and put his hand back down.

Later that night Jake laid in bed getting caught up on some reading and waiting for Josh’s call when he got a notification on his phone. He’d almost forgotten about the TikTok add when he saw that Danny followed him back, and shortly after sent him a video. He debated ignoring it, but ended up deciding to check and make sure he wasn’t sending anything weird where Luna could see.

A pleasant little tune came across the speaker when it started with a title to the video on the screen that said ‘rating the scoopability of this week's slimes’. He actually watches this? Jake thought as he let the video play on, an orange ‘slush’ slime, whatever that was, up first. Next was a deep blue one with purple flash and gold stars. Wait, he kind of liked that one, and why was this kind of relaxing? Finally there was a green translucent slime, this one had lots of tiny little charms in it which Jake had to squint his eyes at to see that some of the charms were tiny soccer balls.

Was Danny thinking about him when he sent this video?

Jake closed the video and stared at the white background of the nearly empty inbox before he curiously clicked on the bubble that took him to Danny’s profile. He didn’t have anything posted, but there was a link to his instagram account.

The link took him immediately to the other app, and Jake lied to himself saying he hoped his account was private. It wasn’t.

A grid of pictures of Danny flooded Jake’s screen in the usual instagram manner. Being nosey he scrolled a little bit, finding one interesting enough to click on and enlarge. He looked like he was in a tattoo shop, and he was in a position that showed off his forearm while he pretended to flex- not that he had to try very hard.

What looked like brand new ink by the irritation of his skin banded around his arm in bold black lines. How had he missed this when they met? He could remember what Danny was wearing, but clearly he’d been trying to avoid looking at him too much if he’d not seen the tattoo.

He stared at the picture for a bit longer, studying the marking and the unfamiliar symbol they made when he was interrupted by his awaited phone call.

“Hey” he answered, trying to sound normal- like he wasn’t just creeping on someone's social media.

“What were you doing?” Josh asked, too intuitive to not notice he’d caught Jake off guard.

“Nothing” Jake replied, his voice turning up a bit at the end.

“What were you watching porn or something?”

“What? No! I absolutely was not” Jake groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose at his brother's brazen questioning.

“I wouldn’t judge you if you were. How else are you supposed to release some stress without getting a little… well, release?”

“Please stop talking. The only thing stressing me out right now is you”.

“How was practice today?” Josh asked instead, sounding a little too eager to get the updates about ‘practice’.

“Really good” Jake replied, only adding to Josh’s delusion of what really good meant.

“So you got to see a certain someone again?”

Of course, this conversation was actually about that.

“Not at practice. We had lunch at Emma’s house”.

“Wait…” Josh stopped him in confusion. “So the person who hit on you is?”

Jake debated for a moment about telling Josh about Danny. Besides he was just some random guy he had to put up with right now since his family was close with Emma’s, right? He figured Danny’s living situation with his sister wasn’t permanent, so eventually he’d leave and everything would go back to normal, right?

“Jake, come on if you don’t tell me I’m just going to imagine what I want to then” Josh read his mind.

Knowing leaving it up to Josh’s imagination was not the best course of action- that could get out of hand fast, Jake gave in. “His name is Danny. He’s Emma’s uncle”.

The other end was silent for a moment as his brother took in this information. Jake knew that Josh didn’t care that this crush was someone of the same sex, having been with his boyfriend for nearly a decade now. “This is… interesting”. Jake could hear Josh’s grin, knowing he was probably planning out how he could meet Danny as soon as possible.

“Don’t be weird about it. It’s nothing”.

“Yeah, just a crush” Josh giggled mischievously. “Jake has a crush”.

“Shut up I don’t”.

“Oh, wait till Sam gets a hold of this”. Jake knew Josh wouldn’t actually tell him if he didn’t want him to, but it was also fun to tease him with it.

“I’m hanging up now”.

With a chuckle still in his tone Josh wished him a good night. When the call ended Danny’s instagram pulled back up and Jake gave it one last scroll through before he sighed and closed all his tabs before plugging his phone back in and saving his place in his book. Setting them both on his night stand he turned out his light and settled into bed, one question left on his mind.

Did he have a crush?

Before today he would’ve said no, absolutely not, but he had to admit seeing Danny playing with the kids had done something to him.

A crush might’ve been a strong word at this point, but if he saw Danny again he didn’t think he’d mind it so much anymore.

Coming to grips with that Jake was able to easily fall asleep, knowing that he probably would be seeing him again.

Tags: @lyndz2names @gracev0609 @lipstickitty @sanguinebats

[dollittie]

I am new to jirai kei, but I just wanted to know some tips and other things I should be educated on in the subculture 🩷 I just don't want to come off as ignorant because Im new 🫶 so do you have any tips or things I should know? ⁠♡

hii!! sorry for taking too long to answer, i wanted to do this post as informative as possible!!

massive tw: harmful behavior, s*x work, mentions of self-h*rm.

i will talk about the differences, the stereotypes and the reason behind them, having the "jirai kei" as a main subject. if you want to know more about the girlykei style you can ask me anything!! like brand recommendations, tips on buying from japan, makeup, girlykei must haves, etc.

please keep in mind that:

• jirai kei (lifestyle) and dark girly kei (style that jirai girls use) are two separated things and you can be jirai without using the style and you can use girlykei without identifying as jirai.

• the western vision of jirai is totally wrong. jirai kei in Japan isn't a style at all; jirai kei is a lifestyle that is seen as "unhealthy".

jirai kei came from “地雷系”. translates to “landmine-type”, not the literal meaning as “landmine”, is a japanese slang for "trigger" "red flag" “地雷を踏んだ”, meaning “i stepped on a landmine”. in reference to a person, a “landmine” is someone that’s so easily triggered over minor things that they keep exploding on others with abusive behavior, so you need to be as careful as if you were walking around a minefield.

this meaning has been around for about a decade, primarily used in dating advice articles about how to recognise “red flags” in a partner.

"but it isn't a style?"

in those dating stereotypes, even the most arbitrary traits were considered red flags and wearing dark alternative fashion is already enough to have someone considered a potential landmine, the style in question is called dark girly kei. (style used by many jirai kei girls)

around 2020, jirai kei didn’t have any associations with any particular fashions or interests, but when a popular japanese makeup vlogger started a “psycho girlfriend” dress-up challenge and called the final look a landmine-type cosplay. she contributed to the stereotype that the landmine-types were often fans of dark girly fashion, every influencer was getting in on the trend, and cosplaying as a landmine-type psycho girlfriend, generally also tagging with “yandere”, then a lot of influencers did the challenge and lots of girlykei brands started to use the "jirai kei" terminology to sell more.

"why would someone call themselves jirai knowing that it means "psycho woman" in other words?? wouldn't it be romanticizing?"

there's a lot of people who call themselves jirai kei knowing about the difference of jirai & girlykei because of their mental conditions, i myself use jirai kei to not feel bad about my mental state and to connect to other people who struggle the same as me, in my opinion even if they stopped calling themselves jirai they wouldn't stop their unhealthy behavior, they're not mentally ill because of jirai, they're jirai because of their mental illness. the spaces for real mentally fucked people in the internet are few, these people that are called "psycho bitches" exist and they shouldn't feel bad about being like this, they are the people who most struggle with all of it and it's their business if they want to call themselves it. telling people to not use the jirai kei term will not stop them to engage on harmful behavior, at the end those people are still mentally ill and have more problems than the terminology they use. might be thinking the "jirai antis" are some sort of saviors or something like that, if you really want to help those people don't blame it in the community and style they've found themselves.

all jirais don't have the same behavior even if all of them have a fucked mental state, some of them might be posting self-harm for validation, some are obsessed with their s/o, some doing sex work for attention, some of us has violent thoughts and bpd, some of us are just neurodivergent, or have depression, etc, is a form of venting/expression, and venting ≠ encouraging someone.

some info:

• the term hadn't changed its meaning, japan doesn't reclaim words.

• the association of girly kei with harmful behavior is maybe related to "toyoko kaiwai" (トー横キッズ) who's around Kabukicho, many of the members have been wearing various dark j-fashion styles before the "psycho girlfriend dress-up challenge" became a trend. they're credited as the reason for why those styles are associated with the landmine stereotype to begin with. they're been connected to under*ge pr*stitution, dr*g ab*se, public self-h*rm, murd*r and theft.

they are around age 9-24, (firstly known as toyoko kids, but like, there's a lot of adults in this) they're often privileged children who were convinced to get away from home by bad influences. and many members have died or been hospitalized as a result. for more info search the Japanese spelling on any japanese news site, or their signature hashtag on social media (#/toho横界隈).

the association of jirai with this gang is their former leader “Howl”, who died by suicide while waiting in custody for a trial, convinced minors to run away from home in order to “work” for him and dress in a way he finds attractive (dark girlykei).

all these minors he "convinced" are victims, you can use the style without agreeing with this behavior and be jirai without agreeing with this, they're all manipulated children and it isn't their fault.

sorry for it being too long, and if you want sources lmk!! thanks for asking <3

[imtooscaredforthis]

So Two Murderers Walk Into A Room…

Chapter Three: The Truth Isn’t So Bad

Mentions of: Murder, Homicidal Thoughts, Knives, Homicidal Tendencies, Mental Illness, etc.

A/N: I was super sleepy while editing this so please forgive grammar/spelling errors

Tags: @vandeaad @dead-bxxxtch-walking @moonshineinasippycup @stwbwwychan @mama-miya

He was right. You hate to admit when you’re wrong, but boy were you wrong. You truly are in some sort of fucked up dimension. And that entity thing, you saw it. After you sacrificed all those survivors. It was real.

In some strange way, you felt connected to it. Like it was controlling you. You shouldn’t want to be controlled. You never want to be controlled. But you like how you feel.

You get that familiar blissful feeling whenever you kill, but multiplied by ten. Right now, you feel amazing, the buzz and adrenaline running through your veins. You feel better than you’ve felt in a long time. Honestly, you wouldn’t mind doing this for eternity.

“Boo.” A voice suddenly whispered in your ear, making you shriek and turn on your heel, waving your knife around. A gloved hand caught your wrist, stopping you before you could do any damage.

It was that masked freak from before. He chuckled to himself lowly, and you could feel the smugness emanating from him. “Seems like I caught you red-handed, Sweetheart. You finally ready to confess?”

And just like that, your mood soured. Sweetheart. Who does this condescending prick think he is?

“Don’t call me that.” You hissed poisonously. “And I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“You don’t, but I’m sure I can get it out of you. You do have quite a bit of blood on you after all. Cute. So how many did you get? Two? Three?” He examined the knife in your hand, before releasing your wrist.

“Four, actually.” You corrected him, doing your best to stop your smile as you felt some sadistic pride grow in your chest. What are you doing? Why are you trying to please him?

“Ooooh, four. You got them all?” He asked. “Yeah, not like it was hard or anything. I was a district champion in track in High school, and I did gymnastics in college. So I have some extra skill when it comes to the hunt.”

You can’t help but find yourself getting sucked into this conversation with him. No one’s ever talked to you about murder before. It’s such a taboo subject, and yet, you’re here, talking to this man and treating it so casually. It’s so…freeing.

“See? Isn’t it nice being able to be yourself? Your true self? I knew you’d admit it eventually.” He remarked.

“Okay, you might’ve been right about some things, but not everything. Who are you, anyway?” You asked, realizing he never told you his name.

“Mmm, I go by a lot of things, but most people know me as Ghostface.” He said.

You repeated the name to yourself, before giggling. “You’re so weird.”

“Laugh all you want, but that name terrified anyone who heard it, especially those who read my name in the paper. The stories of what I did kept countless up at night, and I would’ve scared you too.” He stated in an irritated, almost threatening tone.

“Oh really?” You challenged him. “Yep. I’d have you changing your locks and everything. Maybe I’d even get you to move.”

“Well, you’re wrong, Ghostface. Because I’m not a pussy. I’m not scared of anything.” You replied, gesturing at him with your knife in hand, a big grin on your face.

He was oddly quiet for a moment and stood as still as a statue. Still, you could feel his eyes following your movement. Then, he spoke. “I have a feeling you and I are going to be good friends.”

Huh? Just when you thought you got under his skin, when you thought you finally deflated his huge ego, he bounced back immediately. Seems like you can’t push his buttons like he can push yours.

“Now, there’s lots for us to do. I need to show you around to the other realms and have you meet the other killers. That’ll be fun.” He remarked.

“Other killers?” You repeated. “Yeah, you didn’t think it was just us, did you? Now c’mon, let’s go.”

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, leading you out of the woods.

–

It didn’t take long, just a little more walking before finding the other killers. There were around eleven, all grouped up together, waiting for another trial, you assumed. Many had more monster-like features, but others appeared to be human.

You weren’t afraid, but you were intimidated, and curious. Why did they look the way they did? Did they always look like that? Or did something change them? Do you look like that?

It’s been a while since you looked in a mirror, but you don’t think you do. You hope you don’t. One of the few things you pride yourself on is your looks. You’re beautiful. You know you are.

Not only is it nice to be pretty, but it’s good for sex, and it’s also easier to lure in your prey. That’s how you’ve killed and gotten away with your murders.

“Hey guys, welcome our newbie, _______! Isn’t she just the cutest?” He pushed you against him, before reaching up and squeezing your cheeks. Glaring at him, you smacked his hand away, slipping out of his grip.

Feeling all the attention on you, you glanced at the group, suddenly feeling shy. “Uh, hi.”

It’s strange, being around people and creatures that all now know your secret, even though you’ve spent your whole life hiding it. It’s even weirder knowing that they’re just like you.

Well, not just like you, but they obviously have to have some involvement with killing to be there.

“Well, hello there.” A lilac-haired man purred. He approached you quickly, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. You blinked at him, processing his actions.

Okay, now some guy dressed in what seems like a ringmaster’s outfit is hitting on you. Not that you minded. He was quite good looking after all, with a pretty face, and a toned upper body. Great abs too.

“Oh, where are my manners? I’m-”

“Fuck off, Trickster. She’s mine.” Ghostface interrupted, shoving him away. He said something to him, you weren’t sure what because it was in another language, but whatever it was didn’t sound nice.

You opened your mouth to object to Ghostface’s statement, but the next thing you knew he was ushering you away from the killers. “You’ll get to know them later. Let me show you around.”

[laprimera]

alrighty so after some reflection and getting some outside stuff prioritized Im done some blog housework so I can get comfortable here again.

im still gonna continue my hiatus until november cause the rest of October still has a lot of rl appointments and stuff going on. ill be nuking my ask and drafts to get into maximum turtle plot overdrive and just start things clean, but here's the skinny under cut:

. Ive went and cleaned up my followers list. mostly of inactive blogs, non-mutual or blogs that haven't reached out or interacted at all. I use to think I liked a busier dash but I think trying to keep up with it had been giving me anxiety even if my muses weren't involved in anything plot wise. FOMO has been really killing my vibe more then anything and I need to cut that habit out.

you're a-okay to refollow though! I'll do the same. none of this was done out of malice or a personal dislike, and I get being so busy w/ life and personal plots that you cant interact with everyone in a convenient moment. but if you see this as an opportunity to reach out then by all means! that and I might've accidentally unfollowed one or two of you cause side-blog deal, clumbsy thumbs, and uuh, dont mind me realizing that later down the line-my bad!

. unless carefully plotted otherwise, anything outside my own canons, affiliated blogs/mains or plots is no longer canon to my own. any interaction or thread initiated towards my muses will default fall into my lore/verse unless vice versa or its plotted and etc etc. It's no longer just hanging there in the void so to speak. I need to feel more in control of my own narrative I think and trying to puzzle a lot of contradicting outside plots, dash events, etc has been mentally taxing when rp shouldn't be occupying so much space or anxiety to begin with lol.

this isn't to say everything thats happening in the dash or w/ other characters isn't important ofc! and I still want to participate; it'll just fall under a crack/non-canon tag. if things end up lining up p' well with whats going on here then I might take it into canon. This is p' much what I've been doing to begin with, it's just more concrete now and Im being more careful of what Im willing to accept now. Im ofc open to discussing stuff! DMs and disco for those who have it are open always even if I take a moment to get to it!

. Im no longer answering anon asks that are personal in some way, ie, around subject matters that aren't general headcanons asks or 'hey how do you feel about-' sorta deal. I dont feel comfortable taking it to public and while I understand having the fear of being identified, it's not fair if I'm the only one bearing the subject so to speak. If you want to talk to me through DMs you can either tell me your UN (no burners either) so I can bypass permissions here to chat or you can reach me at @shiny-miltank where my IMs are not barred to mutuals only. I don't bite really! and my discord is not public. tbh Im still very anxious about being on disco to begin w/ cause social anxiety flare ups. idk tumblr dms always seemed easier to chat until I know you on a personal basis-its just worked that way.

. making it more strict that you dont? put my geeta in place of plots, events, etc that I havent participated or plotted with, nor can you make assumptions for them based on said events. as slapped on every piece on my about/rules/pinned/etc shes heavily canon-divergent to begin with so no one knows her intentions/actions (save for me ofc) and wont act in what presumed canon-geeta would do or your own version so to speak. easy enough to slap me an IM for "is it okay to-", plotting, or just make a nebulous npc stand-in.

. things that havent changed are the use of my lore and headcanons into your own! I love seeing it integrated or adapted into other lore and seeing just how much it inspires and changes over time!

this all seems rigid but really it's just reiterating whats already in my rules and no one here has been a huge offender at all :' ) this is more for me to follow and I cant thank everyone enough for their patience and creativity for as long as I've been here. Im loosey goosey and go with the flow 90 out of 100 times.

this goes for the rest of my muses, which Ill probably clean up when Im back-but yeah! miss ya'll! hope you've been doin' good! the terrapagos plot will continue then and Ill resume reaching out and leaving details! hopefully in time for dlc ; >

[jazzydizzlefoshizzle]

INTRODUCING... THE ONE N ONLY..! PUT UR HANDS TOGETHER 4.. *drum roll please*

Meeee! Its me! :3 look here I am!

i dont have locs anymore :'3 I actually belly flopped off a diving board SO HARD the little lockage i had came undone! Like the weezer song! >B] anywhoz

WELCOME TO MY PAGE :3 HEREZ SUM INFOS ABT ME ^^;;

My interests!!! (^∧^)

I LUV SAPPHICS!!! AND QUEER.. ANYTHING! >///< im sapphos apprentice fr

my favorite shows r animes that will ruin ur life and childhood cartoons!! ^_^ like madoka magica, death note, erased, adventure time, my little pony friendship is magic, chowder, fish hooks etc etc! >;3

My favorite artists are hastune miku!!! And nicki minaj and System of a Down! :3 and tyler the creator and lemon demon and tally hall and jack stauber and spellcasting <3

I don't like labels :P)) I like writing scripts, songs, drawing and singing and theater and film - i don't have an act in specific. I just do what makes me happy

I draw and make comics and cartoons! I love art and animation so very much! My dream is to be a well-known cartoonist for many different projects ^_^ I adore indie animation, too!! Bugbo and the amazing digital circus and big top burger are my inspirations currently >:3c

My dni

Basic dni info don't be racist don't be a terf no pro contact/anti contact zoos or maps no mspec lesbians yadda yadda all the normal stuff and if u consider urself one of those "I hate everyone equally" centrist dickheads then gtfo my traphouse, disrespectfully <3

ALSO im very much cringe coded so if u embrace "cringe culture" or are against furrys or gacha kids or just people being themselves and being happy without hurting anyone (keyword: WITHOUT) you can also gtfo my traphouse NO BULLIES ALLOWED! /srs

Also, pro shipping is a sensitive subject for me. If your ships are harmful or downright disgusting, dni. I know it can be a coping skill for trauma, but my acc isn't the best place for that sorry bud :/

BYF!

I'm autistic!!! :3 self diagnosed for now trying to get a medical diagnosis soon! So tone tags are very much appreciated! /srs

Hey! Im a minor!! Im 16!! Keep that in mind if ur an nsfw acc or centered around adult topics!! <33

I go by fae/faer prns mostly!!! She/her is ok too but i prefer fae/faer!! ^_^ I have some xenos like doggie/doggiez as well!

I'm down with the sickness /ref

... by that I mean I got a lot going on in my life :p living situation and mental illnesses, I'll just be posting whenever I wanna, no strict schedule

I'm super silly and still figuring myself out! So come along with me like the adventure time song n Diddy and watch me grow thru my shenanigans on this totally valid real and not social simulation of an app/website >:D

[tetanusvaccineunofficial]

hello whumpblr it is me tetanus vaccine (un)official!

Hi!! Figured I'd get a lil more personal and make an intro post for my writing sideblog! :)

Name: You can call me K or just tetanus/any variation of my user if you're feeling silly!

Age: 22! I will not be mutuals with anyone under 19, sorry!

Pronouns: He/him only, please!

Main Blog! (Digital art)

Read more for what you can expect from this blog!

About me/this blog: I have constant brainrot about my OCs and my favorite things to write are things that explore relationship dynamics, character psychology/trauma, and. Also like, a lot of hurt/comfort. I like general whump, too, but h/c is my favorite!

My activity level may vary as I'm chronically ill (along w/autism and ADHD) and sometimes I have trouble keeping up with notifs! I'm also a bit of a slow reader!

Note: all of the below applies to written content, not my art!

Things that are DEFINITELY going to come up in my work/things I like writing:

(which will all be appropriately tagged to the best of my ability!)

Mental health issues and trauma

Chronic illness

Graphic descriptions of physical pain and injury

Non-graphic emeto content (it's not, like, a point of fixation but it happens semi-often!)

Blood. Just blood. I have vampires.

Male? Whump?? Most of my OCs are men. I'm transmasc and gay!

Fainting/loss of consciousness (debated whether to put this here or in the 'might' section tbh)

Romance! Either completely M/M or M/NB. I have a few polycules, also!

Sappy dialogue, sorry im just REALLY gay

Things that might come up in my work at some point, but not regularly at all:

(again, will be heavily tagged!)

Mentions of SH

Suicide/mentions of suicide

Body horror/general horror

Depictions of unhealthy relationship dynamics

Substance abuse (Will never include the subject of alcohol, and will most likely be about fictional substances)

Mentions of sexual trauma (I'm not sure if I'm comfortable posting anything that covers this, but if I did, it'd be less from a whump angle and more about a character dealing with the impact of it!)

Gore (Def not often, but I can think of some things I've written that fall under this!)

Murder/attempted murder

Things that will not come up in my work:

(I don't judge people who write these, this is by no means a DNI, just things that I personally don't plan to post!)

Scenes that show noncon/SA happening or have a graphic description of it

General NSFW (I write it, but I don't feel comfortable posting it online at this time, and don't foresee myself doing so in the near future!)

Graphic emeto content/graphic content about bodily fluids (besides blood lol)

Character permadeath. I was going to say 'death scenes' but then I remembered that I have VTM characters.

I probably won't write fanfic! I don't mind reading it, I just feel weird writing with characters that aren't mine and always get too caught up in getting things wrong!

Mental health issues, toxic relationships, and self-destructive behavior will also never be intentionally romanticized! I do my best to avoid that!

Any sensitive subjects I cover will be well-respected and researched to the best of my ability, and a good chunk of the themes I write are personally relatable to me! I will not specify which ones besides the obvious!

If I've missed any tags that you feel are important, let me know!

[rottika]

Pinned Post

Hi! My name is Rot, though I also go by SFBE (Sexy Fictional Bug Enthusiast). I am a small YouTuber and mostly make art or write fiction related to my OCs from a world called Phantasmagoria (Phangoria for short). My last blog either got banned or accidentally deleted or something and so this is the remake. :/

You can find my Hollow Knight content on my other blog, @nyctophobia-au and all my socials are linked on my Carrd.

Commission Status: OPEN Comm Info: https://rottika.carrd.co/#commissionterms

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Frequently Used Tags

#answered asks ▸ Tag for all answered asks.

#phangoria asks ▸ Tag for asks specifically related to Phangoria (OC content).

#rot rambles ▸ Text posts in which I ramble.

#phangoria ▸Main tag I use for all Phantasmagoria (OC) content. This includes art, fics, rambles, asks, etc.

#rot’s art ▸ Art tag.

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Disclaimers & Personal Boundaries

◈ Personal details about my life and mental health are my business. Please do not ask me about things like that; ain't none of your business.

◈ A lot of my content contains heavy themes and imagery, so keep that in mind if you choose to interact. My art is not intended to be viewed by children and I don't have children in mind when I make things. Proceed with caution if you are younger.

◈ NOTE: Many of the subjects I portray in my art are unrealistically exaggerated or otherwise absurd for the sake of dark humour. The way in which some behaviours and mental illnesses are characterised is not a 1:1 with reality and should not be treated as such.

◈ Please don’t repost my work. You may not use it as a pfp, banner, or an NFT or anything like that.

◈ Though all my content on this blog is non-explicit, I may mention suggestive topics or reference NSFW subjects here and there.

[lockandkeyhyena]

Another ask! Wowie Kazowie. I wanted to say I just went through the Alvin's Infurno tag because I realized you've been answering questions about it and it's prompted me to think about my own anthro story and how much they contrast with each other.

I have some similar themes in mind, including my own 100% terrible character who is also someone who grooms a 16 year old (is also a serial killer but thats a whole other can of worms), however in mine it's more of a commentary on the systemic aspects of grooming and the sexual abuse of teenagers.

Specifically I decided to make the abuser in question a straight, cis white-coded woman in her twenties who had wealthy parents, and her victim (the main character) a latino black-coded queer kid dealing with mental illness.

Though I agree a lot with your philosophies, I made the abuser extremely unsympathetic because personally I was really worried about people excusing the actions of someone adjacent to white femininity. Particularly, a lot of black kids are seen as aggressors and I didn't want to compromise on the main character being kinda shitty because I know myself as someone who can be quite shitty sometimes. So making her as unsympathetic as possible in actions was the compromise I chose in order to highlight how its privilege which allowed her to do what she does to her victims, not skill or being a mastermind. Despite everyone knowing her to be terrible cruel and mean, nobody investigates it because she is harmless to authority as someone in the position of authority.

Seeing your story come to fruition makes me wonder how I would've done this aspect of my story differently had I wanted it to be the whole focus of a story rather than just one piece of my comfort oc's torture nexus. I think it's likely I would have had something similar to your story, but I do think I would've approached hell differently.

I always imagined hell to be a place where people who feel guilty go to, and not necessarily people who 'deserve' (in quotes because its subjective) it go to. Like you I've always found the idea of christian heaven and hell to be strange, I found myself drawn to the idea that the afterlife is a state of mind you walk yourself into.

I love the shitty motel.

I've been in positions where my family was unable to find homes and I've had to stay in motels and hotels on several occasions (i lived in a hotel for three months at one point) and there's something oddly nostalgic to me about being stuck in a place - a motel/hotel - that you're not supposed to be in for a longer time than you should.

Anyways thats my ask box ramble I hope this gives you thoughts? I don't know?

thank you so much for your thoughts! i love it when people come and tell me about their own stories that deal with similar issues. i think in your story’s case highlighting the abuser’s unsympatheticness works given you’re going for a critique of systemic and societal power structures and how they intersect with race. of course you can deal with more than one idea per story but if you’re going for a more straightforward critique rather than an introspective character study, it makes sense to put the brunt of the empathy you want your reader to feel on the victim, rather than the aggressor.

thank you also for your compliments of the motel! i wanted a really liminal feel for it and i’m glad that comes across :)