Langst Oneshots

Lost in the Answer

{A/N- Holy shiz bois. This book reached 3000 reads the other day, I'm just. Holy heccin damn. Thank you so much, I'm literally speechless}

Trigger warning:
-anxiety/depression mentioned

Ship: none

Lotor was slowly becoming a more trusted member in the castle of lions, granted they still didn't let him anywhere near the lions, but he had desires to change that. He just needed a target to settle on. Luckily for him, he found lance to be the perfect specimen. The frail blue boy already had confidence and self worth issues, it'd be a piece of cake to knock him back into his place. The first step was befriending the team, gathering everyone he could onto his side. He started to acquaint himself more with lance. Often training and eating together, seeming excited to learn everything about the boy. While it may of seem real to lance, he was but a step in lotor's ladder to victory.

To lotor's surprise and slight dismay, lance had made him somewhat of a place holder. He could easily tell that lance didn't yet see him as a friend, so he delved deeper. Brought them gifts, shared made up personal stories, gave them tons of information to put the galra into a bind. It was starting to make a few of them give in. Not lance though. Lotor was starting to give up. He was about to switch targets, sure he had his eyes set on the blue Paladin since day 1, but he was much less fragile than previously thought. That is until he had a personal conversation with lance one day.

Lance had knocked on his door, somewhat urgent but still unusually soft. Lotor trotted over to the door, sliding it open to see lance, in his warn down disheveled state. "Lance? Whatever happened to you?" Lotor questioned, it was weird, he'd actually become concerned for the boy. He mentally scolded himself and turned back to the quivering boy falling into his arms. "I-I'm sorry." Lance had stuttered out, clearly on the verge of tears. He tried to lift himself up from lotor's arms but ended up collapsing. "Lance!" Lotor almost shouted, positioning the boy upright, trying to see what was wrong with him. He thought maybe it was a fever? These human species were exceedingly fragile, the slightest knock and they'd fall apart...I think lance has had one knocks too many.

Lance looked up, his tired eyes holding a slight glimpse of hope as he spoke. "What am I to you?" Lance spoke through cracked lips and chattering teeth. The question had left lotor stunned. What was he? To lotor, lance was a target, a victim, a place holder. But that's not what lance wanted to hear. He wanted to hear it from the team, hear what they truly thought of him, but he'd rather the lie. Because he knew what they thought of him. He knew they thought as him as a placeholder for Keith. They thought of him as a replacement, a comical loser, a nuisance. He knew what they thought, he wasn't blind to the disgusted glances thrown his way, but he longed to be told otherwise. Hoped that for someone he could be something, just anything.

This was easy prey for lotor. He could've pounced, could've easily struck lance down then and there, made him believe what he thought he'd saw in his friends eyes. Sometimes it's better to wait. Let the pain drag on until it's agonising. Lotor decided he'd wait for the Paladin to tear himself apart from the inside out. It didn't need to go too far, just to a state of where he was thrown off the team. One mistake is all it should take. One small problem and lance would be gone. With lotor gaining the precious trust of the paladins, they'd almost without a doubt give him the lion after lance is exiled.

"You're lance." Two simple words that graciously feel from the purple man's lips. He had to reply, but refused to give lance what he wanted. If he just remained a safe distance away from what lance wanted to hear every time, the plan would work. It wasn't exactly a reply, but it got lance thinking like lotor wanted. The question and answer works in a loop, you see? It goes "what am I to you?" Where lance is unsure of his input, he's terrified of not being good enough, so in an indirect manner, he asks if he is. It's simple really, if someone describes lance in a derogatory way at all, he'll change it. By using the answer "you're lance." It makes lance think. 'Who is lance? What am I? Who am I?" Which then leads back into the original question. By lotor's response he's "accidentally" pushed lance into a state of self hatred. As there's no one there to tell him what's wrong and what's right, he assumes everything's wrong.