An angsty pandoras vault idea I’ve had for a while... warning for death and general suffering
Fun fact about lava and volcanic eruptions in general, the most dangerous part is usually the gases released! Volcanoes are actually huge pollutants due to how much carbon dioxide is released. A number of websites warn about being in low lying areas around lava, due to that CO2 and other gases gathering, and leading to suffocation. (Link)
Many peoples version of c!sam depicts him wearing a gas mask, right? Would creeper hybrids even need the same air as humans/whatever c!dream is? The same goes for c!Bad and c!sapnap, often shown as a demon and blaze hybrid respectively. The headcanon doesn’t work quite as well with c!quackity. But what if c!sam doesn’t lend him just his pick axe, but his gas mask as well?
A pandoras vault that never lets c!dream take a full breath of air. The moment he respawns, he begins suffocating once again. His cell is a death trap.
Maybe c!sam learns the total allotment of air available, and times his visitors so that no one will notice the punishment that c!dream endures.
C!techno is often shown as a piglin or piglin hybrid. He grew up next to the lava lakes of the nether. His body is designed for these conditions. The torture he endures is in watching c!dream suffocate in front of him, over and over, with no way to help.
Many people are of the opinion that some of the abuses that C!Dream faces are in some way justified or excusable. Which, no! Abuse is never okay! But lets put that aside for one moment. Lets pretend that yes, c!dream being subject to solitary confinement is defensable due to the moral boundaries that he’d crossed. That he posed such a threat to other people, that he was bad enough of a person, that his rights are now null and void.
Where do we draw the line? I’m genuinely curious, at what point in the storyline did people no longer think he deserved adequate living conditions? What action did he take that then made it perfectly okay for him to be cut off from any form of support network? What moment meant that his canonical self harm could then be dismissed as attention seeking?
And if we’ve now established that there is some point when abuse is justified, surely that logic must be applied universally? What action would c!tommy have to take where exile was okay? Where is that line in the sand?
The logic behind excusing the conditions of pandoras vault is the same behind justifying the exile arc.
What if:
c!dream remembers how almost the entire server watched as he lost two canon lives; and that no one said anything to stop him being murdered.
c!dream has recurring nightmares where the server watches again, but this time it’s as c!quackity takes his sanity.
C!dream becomes so sure that there are other people in the cell when c!quackity visits him. That the people he once called friends are watching him be tortured. Sometimes he sees them out of the corner of his eye, other times he can only feel them watching. Sometimes he begs for their help, pleads with the mirages his mind has conjured. C!quackity will occasionally indulge these hallucinations, pretend to interact with them, make c!dream detail exactly who he’s seeing. Other times he taunts c!dream with the knowledge of his tenuous grasp on reality, question the logic of certain peoples presence, and do anything he can to remind c!dream that he’s alone, that he only has c!quackity now.
C!dream tells c!techno how many witnesses there had been to his torture. C!techno tells him it wasn’t real, that no one could have watched his suffering and stood idly by. C!dream is so grateful, he’d been so confused when everyone, even his best friends, had done nothing as they watched him be murdered. But it hadn’t been real... right?
The reason I bring this up is because when c!sapnap visited c!dream in prison, c!dream wrote that he’d get out eventually, and c!sapnap responded with-
‘No, dude. You can’t. Look, I love you, man, but you- you gotta stay here. This is where… this is where you belong for now. Maybe… Maybe one day if everyone’s cool with it.’
Does c!dream truly believe that anyone's’ opinions will ever change? In that same visit, c!sapnap then promises he’d kill him himself if he escaped. His best friend could vow to kill him, why would anyone else show him ‘mercy’?
C!dream knew that imprisonment hadn’t been implemented with any plans to release him. He would have had his final life taken if it weren’t for his last piece of leverage, the revive book.
C!dream has to hold out hope for escape for his own sanity. The alternative is spending the rest of his life in torturous conditions.
Was c!dream told about this chance of release for good behaviour that c!sapnap mentioned?
I have an idea, we stop calling it ‘pandoras vault’ and instead refer to it as ‘the torture chamber’
If c!dreams imprisonment and subsequent torture wasn’t done in the name of authority, would people have a bigger issue with it?
By that I mean, if c!sam had held c!dream captive in his basement, and never used any terms such as ‘warden’.
Institutionalised abuse is so normalised as a foundation of the prison system, and I think many viewers haven’t done any critical thinking on where their thoughts on pandoras vault truly come from.
Burning hot take:
I’m not usually one for pain olympics, but since people keep saying that c!dream’s actions towards others are justification for his torture I gotta say it.
The prison is worse that exile
I somewhat disagree, as trauma is subjective- however I absolutely agree that the prison is a clear escalation. And even if exile was ‘worse’ that doesn’t make any further mistreatment okay!
C!dream antis will really argue that torture is fine as long as the character has done enough things wrong, and then call us the abuse apologists
Tw torture /rp
Quackity learns from Sam that Dream likes to touch the lava sometimes, “for attention,” Sam says, or to disturb visitors.
At his next visit, Q forces him into the lava, over and over. Normally Dream would step in for a moment, then run back to the respawn pool to put himself out, but Quackity won’t let him.
When Q leaves, Dream presses himself against the wall on the far side of the cell, as far from the lava as he can get. It used to be “exhilarating,” but now the thought of touching it makes him sick.
!!!!!
What if c!quackity finds out abt c!dreams’ sh. He decides that since he’s so good at hurting himself, he can give c!quackity a break. C!dream being instructed to inflict pain, being handed a weapon and only able to turn it against himself. One of his few forms of control taken by c!quackity. Self harm had been an unhealthy coping mechanism, but it was one of only a few coping mechanisms’ he’d had
sometimes I remember the fact that c!quackity canonically brought shears with him to pandoras vault and I have to go and lie down
some dictionary definitions to review:
Abuse
Torture
Manipulation
Felonies
Morals
Sympathiser
Apologist
Justify
Excuse
Explain
dsmp lore fans learn what words mean challenge
So many people argue that c!dream being imprisoned and tortured is best for c!tommy... is it really? Surely the most reassuring thing for him would be knowing that his abuser has been rehabilitated and no liber want to hurt him? Instead he just lives everyday unsure if c!dream will escape and hurt him again. Perpetuating the cycle of violence, focusing on the punishment of crimes rather then the prevention of them future ones, hurts everybody, including c!tommy.
thinking abt c!dream avoiding one half of the cell, and staying close to the lava. c!techno finally asks him what’s wrong, and him haltingly explaining that c!quackity held his head underwater whenever he got bored of using weapons, and now he can’t go near the sink.
‘C!dream is a master manipulator!’
Is he really though?? He managed to get himself locked in a literal torture vault?? He didn’t realise punz was going to betray him, he alienated all of his allies.
Either c!dream isn’t great at the whole manipulation thing, or some of that was intentional
I’ve seen a lot of people say that c!dreams behaviour in pandoras vault is him ‘manipulating’ everyone, and whilst I personally don’t think so, I wouldn’t care if he was. Even if he is altering his demeanour to illicit sympathy- it’s for the goal of avoiding torture? So many of c!dreams actions are unjustifiable, but that is most certainly not one of them.
If during exile, c!tommy had been lying to his visitors or to c!dream with the end goal of securing his freedom, that would be 100% understandable. If his suicidal ideation had been an act to bring about the end of exile, these actions would have been seen as clever, as a smart tactic c!tommy was utilising. Most people would see this manipulation as a way of escaping his abuser.
In addition, if someone is self harming ‘for attention’, it still counts as self harm and needs to be taken seriously. The fact that c!dream is in such a desperate situation that he has committed suicide multiple times is extremely worrying-regardless of any other outcomes he is attempting to achieve.
I need someone to edit that one community meme so it says ‘i can excuse torture but i draw the line at manipulation’
‘C!dream doesn’t like c!techno! He’s just using him!’ - what???? He literally stood up to his torturer for c!techno??
C!Dream affected not only by malnutrition, but but by a lack of sunlight.
When he first enters pandoras vault he’s doing, okay. Mentally and physically. Still shaken by his two canon deaths in quick succession, but he’s handling it.
But then he starts sleeping more (and it hurts because it reminds him of c!george). But sleeping is all he has to occupy himself, a way to make the time pass faster. He tries to keep his strength up, to exercise regularly, maintain his stamina, but it seems to get harder everyday. Not just because there’s no point, but physically. Fatigue plagues him every waking moment. He sleeps not because of its restorative effect, but because when hes sleeping, he doesn’t know just how tired he is.
Everything hurts. He can never find a comfortable position on the obsidian floor, but it’s more than that. His very bones ache. Muscle pain is constant, with no exertion to explain it. His legs cramp, his whole body does, despite it never happening to him previously.
When c!Quackity visits, things are worse then they should be. Hits that would have only bruised in the past now break bones. His wounds don’t heal like they used to. Infections set in easily. He can only watch as his body breaks down, is broken down, and one day he forgets what the sun looks like. Did its warm rays on his skin feel the same as the heat radiating of the lava? He can’t remember anymore.
Everything listed is an actual symptom of vitamin d deficiency! Not included is depression and mood swings. Add onto all that solitary confinement & malnutrition. 6 months of no sunlight is a Very Bad Thing.
I don’t think anyone has to like c!dream. If hating him is how you enjoy the story-go for it! If the prison arc was cathartic for you, I’m glad the story could provide that.
But do not insult others for having a different view of the characters, and for the love of god don’t say that the torture and abuse he experienced was justified. Or at the very least, tag your crit.
If you think c!dream deserves torture because ‘he doesn’t have any empathy’, you are not an ally to autistic people.
A c!dream who, after prison, is fine.
He’s not really. Deep down he is so so hurt- but he doesn’t act like it. Because showing that he’s hurt, not just physically but emotionally, means that c!sam and c!quackity won. It means that other people will see his weakness, know that he’s an easy target. Now that he’s out, that he can see the sun, go a day without torture, he’s gotten himself under control. No more pathetic displays. (And maybe, c!dream doesn’t think he’s allowed to feel bad- are monsters entitled to emotions?)
Some people don’t believe that anything happened to c!dream at all. Prison was a mercy, one they’d been forced into granting him, and how dare anyone suggest he was hurt. Because who could remain that unaffected after torture?
Others think it’s true, see the evidence in c!dreams injuries, or a confession from c!sam or c!quackity. But it doesn’t matter. C!dream isn’t traumatised, so who cares? He was an un caring monster, a psychopath incapable of emotion. No one could hurt him, so it didn’t matter if they tried.
hey guys... just an idea... torture is, bad?
Saying that someone is worthy of torture/ it won’t affect them because they are a ‘psychopath’ is Not Cool.
I’ve seen some people say that pandoras vault was fine until c!quackity started torturing c!dream.
Daily reminder that solitary confinement is a form of torture.
Tw: mentions of abuse, and violence. Dead dove, do not eat.
There are countless ways to avoid violence. But avoidance doesn't mean survival.
Violence is stitched into the seams of existence — a pulse running beneath every century, every age. It thrives, adapts, becomes more creative, more cruel. We like to pretend we are better than our past, but reality doesn't flinch under the weight of our illusions. Even in a world infused with magic, people are still monsters. And monsters don't need fangs or claws. Sometimes, they wear the faces of your neighbors. Or your own family.
Hagarin was not the victim that day.
She was the witness.
A child, too young to spell her own name properly, stood paralyzed in the doorway as her mother's body became a canvas for violence. A fist to the ribs, a boot to the spine. Blood, spit, sobs. The kind of sounds that become permanent residents in your skull. Hagarin clamped her small hands over her eyes, praying that darkness would protect her, but the sharp metallic click of a pistol tore through the air.
"Watch."
A command. Not a plea. A curse.
She was forced to see it all — her mother's skin bruised into unrecognizable shades, her breath turned into shallow gasps until there was no breath left to take.
Hagarin's mother died that night, leaving behind three little girls and a silence too loud to bear.
In a world glutted with magic, you'd think there would be a spell for justice. But magic didn't save her. Magic was a luxury — one used more often to destroy than to heal. Power and violence walk hand in hand like childhood friends, both feeding off each other's hunger. Hagarin understood this at an age when most children only understand fairy tales.
Those who crave chaos? They are not misguided souls. They are predators, drunk on their own sense of invincibility, poisoning everything they touch. They rip the seams of peace just to see what spills out.
And Hagarin? She learned young that survival is not a right — it's a skill.
At seven years old, she became a mother, a protector, a builder of shelters, a scavenger of scraps. She wasn't good at any of it. But no one else was left to try.
She used magic to knock down trees because her hands were too weak. She built a shack with trembling fingers and whispered prayers that the walls would hold for at least one night. Her sisters clung to each other for warmth, while Hagarin stood guard at the entrance, eyes fixed on the sky. The moon was too bright — like it was exposing their helplessness for all the world to see.
That night, her lips moved in silent prayer — not to gods, but to whatever force was out there listening.
"Please. Let me be strong enough. Just for them. Even if it breaks me."
Tears traced down her dirt-streaked face, and for the first time, she allowed herself to feel the weight of what had been taken from her. But grief is a luxury you can't afford when you're responsible for someone else's survival.
They walked for days — blistered feet on broken ground — until the steel skyline of Aloy City appeared like a mirage in the distance. Aloy, the City of Metals. A place where survival was possible, but only if you were useful.
"Are we almost there?" the youngest sister asked, her voice soft from exhaustion.
Hagarin squeezed her hand. "Just five more hours." She wasn't sure if that was true. But hope tastes better when you lie with confidence.
"You're just guessing," Hanari, her twin, muttered.
"Obviously." Hagarin shrugged.
Hanari, loud and bright despite the darkness they carried, was everything Hagarin was not. They bickered like breathing — every argument a strange lifeline that reminded them both they were still alive. Still sisters.
Aloy was both salvation and sentence. A city where children like them became projects — charity cases processed and filed into the system. At the help center, they sat across from a woman who asked too many questions with too soft a voice. What happened to your parents? What did you see? How do you feel?
Hagarin wanted to scream. Instead, she said nothing. Hanari did all the talking — filling the silence with half-truths and protective lies, all while Hagarin's hands dug crescent moons into her palms beneath the table.
When they were placed onto a bus, bound for an orphanage disguised as a "facility," Hagarin didn't cry. She just stared out the window, watching her reflection blur against the world passing by.
Life at the facility was not kind, but it was stable — which was almost the same thing. They were clothed, taught to read, trained to summon spells from nothing but breath and willpower. Time passed, and they grew taller, sharper, harder. But Hanari never lost her brightness. The little sister never lost her innocence.
And Hagarin never lost the weight in her chest — the cold iron reminder that peace is temporary, and safety is always conditional.
She watched from the window as Hanari and their sister chased each other through the grass, laughing like the world hadn't tried to crush them under its boot.
For a moment, Hagarin let herself believe it was possible — that they could outrun the ghosts, the memories, the trauma woven into their bones.
But only for a moment.
Because Hagarin knew better than anyone: The past never stays buried.
And the worst monsters aren't the ones hiding in shadows. They're the ones smiling in the light.
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2,731 words.
Next chapter: Chapter 1: Present time
Chapter 6: Decorated The cleanup had been humiliating. Hours after he had been left in that sorry state, another one of Lotor’s generals had entered the room. Tall and sleek, with an oddly colored pattern on her face, she wrinkled her nose in disgust as she approached the mortified paladin. “I’ve been asked to do a lot of things since I’ve worked for Lotor, but this might be one of the worst.” Zethrid walked in after her, looking irritated “Stop complaining. Ezor, I’m the one who has to clean him up, your job is to spruce him up when I’m done.” She reached down and dragged Lance up by his hair, recoiling slightly when she saw his face. Lance held on to her wrist, trying to keep on his feet. His throat hurt and his face stung from all the blows Lotor had inflicted upon him, but he would gladly deal with the pain if it meant he didn’t have to be seen like this. Noticing that Lance was on his feet, Zethrid shoved him forward, leading him out of the room and down the hallway, with Ezor following slowly behind, her arms clasped behind her head. Keeping his head bowed, Lance didn’t immediately notice when they had entered a new room. It was only when he heard the footsteps come to a halt, that he looked up. He was standing in a beautiful, brightly lit bathroom. An enormous tub, the size of a small pond took up the entire back part of the room while the left wall was covered in gleaming counter space. On the right wall were several mounted shelves filled with all sorts of toiletries and products, and below that was a clean porcelain toilet, surround by even more counter space. If Lance wasn’t in his current situation, he would have been itching to try this place out, but instead all he felt was fear. This was the first time he had been in this bathroom and so far, experience had told him that when Lotor was involved, new situations were never good. He stopped and looked hesitantly back at Zethrid and Ezor. “What are we doing here?” he asked, nervously shifting his weight between each leg. Zethrid tsked, approaching the tub, “Lotor has ordered us to clean you up.” she replied as she turned the nozzle, allowing the tub to fill up. She grabbed a few bottles and placed three of them on the brim of the bathtub and opened the tops of the rest, placing a few drops of each into the heated water. The moment it was full, Zethrid turned off the nozzle and shoved Lance forward, and he stumbled against the brim, falling to his knees. “Strip,” she ordered, and Lance felt his cheeks grow hot. “Here…in front of you?” he asked gripping the edges of his ruined cloth. It had been hard enough to be forcibly stripped by Lotor, everything that had been done to him so far was degrading and uncomfortable, but it was all done by Lotor, another man, the idea that he was to strip down in front of two girls was much harder for him to stomach. “Of course here, now stop asking questions, strip down and get in the bath. Or am I gonna have to force you?” Zethrid asked, balling her hands into fists, putting them up threateningly. Lance hesitated and then gripped the edges of the silk wrap, sliding it off of his waist and letting the soiled fabric fall to the floor. Cheek red, he covered his dick anxiously with his hands and slipped into the bathtub, crouching down in an effort to hide his length. Despite the situation, Lance let out a soft moan and closed his eyes as his aching muscles began to relax. It had been ages since he was able to properly bath and after everything he had experience, it felt good. He didn’t have long to enjoy it however, as Zethrid suddenly crouched down beside him, grabbing one of the other bottles. He tensed and watched carefully as she squirted some soap into a sponge and began to lather it up, squeezing it between her fingers. For a moment, Lance thought she was going to hand it to him, but without warning, she reached forward, grabbing him by the upper arm. He let out a yelp and he couldn’t help but flinch and pull away, causing her to tighten her grip and yank him back. Lance trembled in her grasp and Ezor, who had been watching from the corner, sighed and kneeled down beside Zethrid. “He’s kinda jumpy isn’t he? I thought he was the blue paladin.” Zethrid, keeping a firm grip on Lance’s upper arm, began to scrub at his skin ignoring his protests, “For the past week and a half, he’s been Lotor’s plaything, how the hell would you be acting right now?” Grimacing at the thought, Ezor stood up and nodded, “Alright, I get it. I’m gonna go get set up, Lotor wants him prepared for the video feed, so bring him in when you’re done.” Zethrid nodded and Ezor stood up and left the room as the other general began to scrub away the dried vomit and piss from Lance’s face and neck. When he was finally washed, Lance was pulled out of the tub and dried off. He had to admit that it felt nice to be clean, but he was more anxious than ever before. ‘What the hell did that girl mean by prepared and what video feed?’ So many questions buzzed in his mind but he wasn’t given any time to voice them as Zethrid yanked off his towel and pulled him out into the hallway, leading him to yet another new room. In a futile attempt to keep himself covered, Lancc walked slightly hunched, hands cupped around his member, but before he knew it, he was shoved into a much darker and smaller room. The floors and walls were black and an overhead light was shining brightly down upon a metal, salon style chair, adorned with thick leather straps, grafted in the direct center of the room. It was this that Ezor stood next to, fingers drumming over a covered tray. Lance’s heart leapt into his throat and he tried desperately to wrench his arms out of Zethrid’s grip to no avail. “Get the hell off of me! What is this?” he spat, as the general shoved him into the chair. Ezor sighed and began strapping the blue paladin in, “Zethrid, can you gag him or something. I honestly don’t want my eardrums blown out when I start piercing him.” Fear and dread washed over Lance at the smaller general’s words, “p-piercing?” he repeated, gulping down the bile that threatened to bubble over. “I don’t know what you-” he froze and his eyes widened as Ezor lifted the top off the tray revealing an assortment or needles, next to which was a bowl of intricately designed jewelry. “N-no!” he stuttered, struggling beginning anew. “No please, I’ll do anything, I’ll…” he bit his lips, fresh tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. If Keith saw him begging like that, he would probably be disgusted. Zethrid suddenly began wrapping a harness, complete with a medical gag, around his face, shoving the metallic piece past his lips. Unable to close his mouth, drool began to pour down his chin and his eyes bulged in fear. Though he couldn’t speak, the gag did little to stifle his sobs, and he watched in terror, legs shaking uncontrollably as Ezor picked up a pair of piercing forceps and approached him slowly. Picking up the first and smallest of the needles, she clamped the forceps onto his left earlobe before placing the needle in the direct center. Lance tried to pull away but Zethrid grabbed him by the hair holding him steady. His body jolted as Ezor pushed the needle through his skin and a layer of goosebumps broke out along his arms. Picking up a small golden ring adorned with tiny blue sapphires, Ezor pulled the needle through his ear and pushed in the gold ring clamping it into to place. Lance squirmed in his seat as his earlobe began to grow hot. It didn’t hurt too bad, but the shock of being pierced without his consent was enough to send a fresh wave of tears pouring down his face. Ignoring the blue paladin’s obvious distress, Ezor picked up a matching stud and placed the needle an inch above the previous piercing. Working diligently, over the next twenty minutes, she slowly mapped out his ears. On the left; the golden ring, topped with two matching sapphire studs, half an inch apart. Around the the shell of his ear were four golden studded rings, ending in a point. On the right; a single sapphire stone was placed at the tip of his cartilage, connected to a golden chain which ended in a glittering dangly collection off golden ropes, ending with sapphire stars. When it was over, Lance was relieved. The pain hadn’t been too bad and he looked expectantly up at the two generals expecting to be released. His hopes were quickly dashed when Ezor picked up another needle, and the color drained from his face when she clamped the forceps at the bridge of his nose. Letting out a soft whimper as a small trickle of drool began to drip from his open mouth once again, he braced himself for the what was to come. This time the pain was much sharper and his back arched slightly as she pierced the needle through his skin, sliding in a pointed tipped golden bar. Please, he thought desperately, shutting his eyes tightly, let it be over. Just let this end. His eyes shot open as Ezor pushed the forceps through the medical gag, clamping it tightly around his tongue. “N-nnngh,” he shook his head in protest but once again, Ezor showed no signs of remorse as she placed a much thicker needle on his tongue, suddenly sinking it through the thick muscle. The pain was much more intense and he sobbed, tugging fruitlessly at his binds. She placed another similarly themed ring through the hole and released the clamps. Lance’s pain didn’t end for another two hours. Working quickly, Ezor pierced snake bites through his lips, a golden sun through his septum, and four sapphire stars above each eyebrow. His nipples were pierced and connected by a golden chain which dangled down, leading to nothing in particular and his navel was pierced with another sapphire ball. A small collection of bloody tissues and used needles sat in a large bowl and only one needle and one piercing remained. Lance was laying motionless in the chair, drool pouring openly from his mouth, his eyes fixed on nothing in particular. “We’re almost done,” Ezor exclaimed, and Lance turned his head to fix her with a watery stare. He swallowed thickly and nodded, feeling exhausted and eager for the pain to end. However, the moment the forceps clamped around the head of his cock, a fresh wave of panic set in and his bloodshot eyes widened in fear. A thicker, slightly more heavyset needle was placed through the hole and ignoring his whimpers, she shoved it through. The pain was excruciating and it tore a silent scream from his throat. Taking advantage of the paladin’s shock, Ezor pushed through another golden piercing, connecting it the the chain dangling from his nipples. Ezor sighed and began to clean up the mess, and Zethrid removed the gag from Lance’s mouth and face. Chest heaving, and pain and heat blossoming in his reddened cock, Lance looked down, tears cascading down his cheeks and he sobbed in defeat. “Please…” he sobbed, “No more.” Previous Ao3 Link
Chapter Five The Hand That Feeds
It was dark. Lance wasn’t sure how long he had been chained up, but judging by the painful pangs of hunger that contracted in his stomach every few minutes, it had to have at least been a couple of days. After his assault, Lotor had returned to his room only once, to dress Lance in a blue silk wrap that hung loosely around his waist. But since then, Lance had seen neither hide nor hair of him. It would have been a safe bet that he had been forgotten if not for the daily visits from Zethrid, who made sure he was at the very least cleaned and given water. He supposed he should at the very least be grateful for that. Yet, he just couldn’t relax. Lotor’s ominous words echoed in his mind, and he just couldn’t shake the feeling that Lotor’s cruelty was only just beginning.
‘Don’t fret young paladin, while it would be wonderful to see your belly huge and round with Galran brood, I have other plans for you.’ That’s what he’d said with that cruel and sickening smile on his face. And, it wasn’t just the words themselves, it was the way he said them - with such a sadistic inflection that it almost seemed like what he had planned was way beyond any cruel or inhuman thing that Lance could imagine. That being said, what could be worse than being experimented on so he could carry Galran children? He shook his head, not wanting to dwell on such thoughts any longer. It was bad enough that he had been fucked mercilessly without his consent, the idea that he as a man could carry children was just too much.
Instead Lance’s thoughts turned once again to escape and his team. Best case scenario he would manage to escape and somehow find his team in the deep recesses of space without his helmet or armor. That, or his team would bust in, kick Galran ass and rescue him. I could even deal with Keith teasing me for being caught, he thought with a small smile. An image of Keith’s scowling face came to his mind and a pang of longing gripped his chest. I miss him…I miss all of them.
After a few moments of silence, Lance shook that thought from his head as well. There was no use focusing on such thoughts. He experimentally tugged at the binds around his wrist and ankles. Damn, they were still incredibly sturdy; there was no way he was going to be able to break them. His eyes instead focused on the wooden post that the binds were attached to. Maybe, if he could just - the door suddenly hissed open, startling him out of his thoughts, and to his surprise Lotor walked into the room, wheeling in a covered silver cart.
Lance’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, “what the hell is that?” he snapped, glaring up at the prince.
“Sharp tongued as ever I see,” Lotor replied dismissively, bringing the cart to a halt in front of Lance. “You would think after three days of solitary confinement with no food, we would have been able to scrape off that abrasive attitude of yours, but it appears you still have more of a lesson to learn. We’ll have to drill it into that head of yours before the end of the month or we may just have to postpone my plans,” he grinned, brushing Lance’s hair behind his ears.
Lance recoiled at the prince’s touch and fear prickled in his chest, but he tried not to let it show. “You never answered my question, and what the hell kind of sick plans do you have for me, anyway? I already told you that I won’t betray my friends, so I don’t know why you’re even bothering with all of this.”
Lotor chuckled in response to Lance’s bravado. “I will reveal my plans in due time, Blue. We have a few months before everything is prepared. In the meantime, let’s just enjoy the time we have together,” he purred, dragging a clawed hand underneath the silk wrap to caress Lance’s bare thigh. Lance flinched at the touch, acutely aware that his cock lay within reach, completely bare under the thin silk.
Before Lance could voice his discomfort, Lotor removed his hand and returned his attention to the silver cart. Lance’s eyes followed Lotor’s movements suspiciously, watching intently as Lotor stood up, wheeled the cart over to the side of the bed where Lance was bound, and carefully lifted off the lid of the tray, setting it down on the bedside table.
Craning his neck, Lance peered down at the tray. Inside a large, shallow, metallic plate was a yellowish brown substance, both grainy and soupy in texture. It smelled foul, and Lance only recognized it as food due to the spoon that was submerged into the disgusting slop. Lance wrinkled his nose in disgust. Lotor picked up the spoon and scooped up the thick mixture and brought it towards Lance’s mouth. “Eat, it wouldn’t do if you suddenly died before my plan was complete.”
Lance recoiled in disgust, tilting his neck away from the spoon, gagging at the smell, “How about I don’t and say that I did?” he grimaced as Lotor followed Lance’s mouth with the spoon. Lance turned his head away once more, refusing to open his mouth.
Lotor sighed and quickly untied Lance’s binds, ”I was hoping we could do this the easy way but it seems that I was wrong.” Relief flooded over Lance when Lotor placed the spoon back into the bowl, but it was short lived, as Lotor suddenly grabbed a fistful of his hair, dragging him into a sitting position and smacked him hard across the face. Stunned, Lance turned his head to face Lotor only to be smacked again, this time a little harder. Without warning, Lotor gripped Lance’s jaw, prying his mouth painfully open before grabbing the spoon once more and shoving it deep into Lance’s mouth, clattering it noisily against his teeth.
The taste was revolting, almost like liquified medicine and he gagged as the bitter mixture hit his tongue, but before he had a chance to spit it up, Lotor slapped his hand hard against Lance’s throat, forcing him to swallow it down. Suddenly, he gripped his hair again slapping him hard across the face. “Are you going to behave Blue, or are all your meals going to be this difficult?” Lotor chuckled as Lance coughed and retched, trying to pull his hair out of the Galran’s iron grip.
“S-stop I -” Lance wheezed, gripping Lotor’s wrist’s weakly before Lotor gripped his jaw and pushed another spoonful into his mouth, this time nearly shoving it down his throat. With the spoon still clamped between Lance’s teeth, the prince forced his mouth closed and once again, made him swallow the revolting blend by smacking his hand hard against his throat before letting go.
That was it for Lance who retched and threw up all over his lap and chest, letting the spoon clatter to the floor. Lotor looking disgusted, gripped Lance’s jaw again, this time landing a curled first against his cheek causing flecks of vomit and saliva to spatter against the wall. Lance, still heaving, let out a choked sob, his face starting to swell where Lotor had punched him. With tears threatening to spill over, he looked back at Lotor who suddenly grabbed his face and forced his mouth open, but instead of scooping up more of the blend, lotor gathered a large spoonful of Lance’s own vomit and forced the spoon into his mouth. Lance gagged and fought against Lotor’s grip his eyes bulging and drool dripping out of the corners of his mouth.
“Disgusting,” Lotor sneered. “Absolutely disgusting. I go through the trouble of fixing you a nutritious meal and you not only refuse my hospitality but you vomit all over yourself like some sick animal.” He forced Lance to swallow and immediately scooped up some more, pushing it against Lance’s mouth who gagged and tried to shove the spoon away. “Please stop I’ll - mmf,” he pleaded, only to be cut off as Lotor suddenly pushed Lance’s face into his own lap, smearing vomit over his face and bangs. Lance panicked as vomit filled his nose and airwaves, cutting off his breath and as he began to thrash, Lotor finally let go, watching as Lance retched and sobbed, gasping for air. The prince’s eyes quirked up as an idea suddenly hit him, “Oh dear Blue,” he cooed, “you’ve made such an awful mess of yourself. Do you want to be rinsed off?”
Lance shook his head, hot angry tears pouring down his cheeks. He knew from the very beginning how evil the prince was, especially after their last meeting. But he had no idea how disgusting and sadistic the prince could be until that very moment and he was not eager to find out what, “rinsed off,” meant. “N-no,” he choked, his shoulders shaking.
“Oh come now, I insist,” Lotor pressed, untying Lance’s legs and yanking him off the bed by his hair. Lance yelped and tried to tug himself free, but Lotor pushed Lance down onto his knees, forcing him to kneel in front of him. To Lance’s horror, Lotor began to unbutton his pants, pulling his cock free and aiming it towards Lance’s ruined face.
“N-no, don’t -” Lance started, only to be cut off as Lotor began to urinate onto his face. Lance was humiliated and disgusted and his cheeks burned with shame as Lotor emptied himself onto Lance’s face, causing a mix of vomit, piss and drool to slide down his neck and chest. When he was finished, he threw Lance to the side, who landed against the wall in a crumpled heap and began to sob.
Grinning at the sight, Lotor turned, tucking himself back into his pants and began to head toward the exit. “I know that may have seemed harsh, Blue, but I assure it was a necessary learning opportunity. Maybe next time you’ll learn not to insult the hand that feeds.” And with that he left, leaving Lance to his own shame and despair. Previous Ao3 Link
Chapter Four Used Lance pulled desperately against his binds, pain blossoming in his already sore shoulders. He had to get out there, he just had to – the sound of footsteps, growing louder with each step echoed down the hallway, and panic rose in Lance’s throat when Lotor returned carrying a small, plastic bottle. No- nononono- Please- Lance thought desperately, squeezing his eyes shut. Gritting his teeth, tears leaked from the corner of his eyes, dripping down onto the pillows under his head.
Ignoring the blue paladin’s tears, Lotor ripped the rest of Lance’s ruined suit and tossed it aside, leaving Lance spread eagle, naked and exposed. He then quickly popped the top off of the bottle and squirted a liberal amount of warm, sticky fluid between Lance’s cheeks, grinning lustfully. The prince freed himself from his pants once more, pulling them down around his thighs and began using the head of his cock to rub the lube around Lance’s tight hole.
Lance’s eyes widened in fear, and he tensed up despite knowing he should relax to lessen the pain. Lotor chuckled and without a seconds thought, pushed the tip of his massive cock into Lance’s hole, marveling at its tightness. “Tell me, Blue,” he purred, sweat beading along his forehead, “how would you feel if I had the witch’s druids modify your body in order to bear offspring?” With a cruel laugh, he began to thrust, every bump and ridge rubbing against the paladin’s insides. It hurt. Every muscle in Lance’s body tensed painfully and he opened his mouth in a silent scream. At the prince’s words, tears openly poured from Lance’s eyes and his teeth ground together in an attempt to muffle the sound of pain that threatened to rip from inside him. Yet, despite his effort, it tore free past his lips, hurting his throat in the process until it was red raw. Beads of blood knitted together around the massive intrusion, and every thrust coated Lotor’s length in blood. I-I’m gonna tear…. Lance thought desperately, trying to think of anything else but what Lotor was saying.
Lotor shoved his knees underneath Lance, pushing his body upwards and straining the ropes in order to thrust in deeper. Noticing Lance’s distress and discomfort, he chuckled, “don’t fret young paladin, while it would be wonderful to see your belly huge and round with Galran brood, I have other plans for you.”
Lance didn’t like the sound of that, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it. Pleasure was starting to spike in between waves of pain, and it was becoming easier for Lotor to snap his hips forward without resistance. Lance moaned raggedly as Lotor began to fuck into him. “Such a good boy,” Lotor praised, leaning down to whisper into Lance’s ear, “taking me like this, and on your first time no less. You must be built for this.” Lance sobbed, shaking his head back and forth, but Lotor quickly stilled the blue paladin’s movements. Placing his clawed hand against the side of Lance’s face, he shoved his head into the pillow, grunting as his hips pistoned back and forth. “You can try to deny it all you want,” he growled, a cruel smile playing over his lips, “but I think I’ll enjoy using you for a bit longer.”
The tip of Lotor’s cock suddenly ghosted over Lance’s prostate, and his eyes shot open as a moan tore from his already raw throat. “N-no,” he gasped, as realization flashed behind Lotor’s eyes.
“There..?” the prince mused, slowly pulling his hips back before snapping them forward repeatedly, pressing once again against Lance’s vulnerable spot.
Cock twitching violently, white hot pleasure coursed throughout Lance’s body and his thrashing began anew, desperately trying to escape that feeling. He wouldn’t…no.. he couldn’t allow Lotor to make him cum. He was a paladin of Voltron, a defender of the universe, “f - ngh-a-AH!” his body shuddered violently and his back arched stretching his binds to their limit, as ribbons of cum shot out from his untouched member, splattering against his own chest.
Lotor chuckled once again, and began fucking Lance mercilessly through his orgasm, revelling at how each spasm had Lance clutching tightly around him. He quickly picked up the speed, feeling a familiar warmth and pressure building in the pit of his stomach. After a few more thrust, Lotor suddenly shuddered as well, releasing his load deep inside the blue paladin, pumping him full of cum.
Lance choked down a sob, shame washing over him. He had failed, he had allowed Lotor’s filthy cock to defile him and worse, he had cum without even being touched. I’m disgusting. Previous Ao3 Link
Chapter 2 The Prisoner Three days had passed since Lance had been unceremoniously dragged away from his first cell and relocated to a new one, and he was not enjoying the accommodations. This new room was much colder than the last, and his body suit definitely wasn’t a replacement for a nice, warm sweater. On top of that, his shackles had been attached to a small ring on the wall, about four feet off the ground and making it impossible for him to sit down comfortably. After three days of being strung up, his shoulders were feeling stiff and painful, and he had stopped struggling in order to free himself from unnecessary pain. That did not mean, however, that Lance was going to take this treatment on the chin. “RELEASE ME, YOU FUCKING LONG-HAIRED ASSWIPE! STOP IGNORING ME, I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME!” He roared at the closed door. Lance had been pretty sure he was about to experience some sort of heinous torture when he first arrived but so far, he had just been locked in the room, and the only time the doors had opened was when Zethrid or one of Lotor’s other general’s came in to feed him and give him water. He supposed he should be grateful that they were feeding him, but still, being ignored was not sitting well with him at all. Just when Lance had shouted himself hoarse and was about to give up, the doors suddenly slid open with a metallic hiss revealing Lotor, an amused grin spread over his face.
“My my, Blue, you are quite the noisy one aren’t you?”
Lance’s eyes narrowed and he curled his lips up in a disgusted sneer, “I didn’t want you to forget I was here! Release me at once or -” he suddenly faltered, or what? What the hell could he do while he was chained up like this? Lotor chuckled and seemed to guess what the blue paladin was thinking, “I am afraid I can’t do that, however - ” he broke off suddenly, his eyes seeming to almost shine in the dim light. Slowly, he approached Lance, looking down at his body with an almost hungry look in his eye. Reaching out, he slid his hand down Lance’s side, admiring how his suit accentuated his form, “If you really don’t want to be alone I suppose I could -” Lance didn’t let Lotor finish his sentence; he wasn’t oblivious, and the way that Lotor was looking at him made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Without warning, he launched out as far as he could go, his head making contact with the prince’s with a sickening crunch. Lotor stumbled backwards, swearing angrily and clutching his head. Pulling his hand away, he saw blood and growled. “ZETHRID!” Lance glared at her as she tore into the room, blood trickling down his forehead; she surveyed the scene and approached Lotor, unable to hide the grin that was forming on her face.
“Release him,” Lotor ordered, wiping the blood from his forehead, eyes narrowed in anger.
“Yes, Sir,” she replied pulling the key from her hip and pushing it into the lock before standing back.
Lance fell onto the ground, shoulders burning as he suddenly held out his hands to land. This was his chance! Lance prepared himself to roll forward and tackle Lotor, but before he could even move, fingers gripped Lance’s hair and dragged him to his feet. Lotor’s fist connected hard with his stomach, winding him. “Try that again and I’ll make sure you won’t be able to walk ever again, understand?” Lotor growled, twisting Lance’s face to look him in the eye, which turned out to be a mistake as Lance suddenly spat into it. Lotor froze, anger bubbling in his gut, and he brought his hand up as if to slap him. Lance flinched away, bracing himself, but when the blow never landed, he looked up. Lotor let go of him and he tutted loudly, “Oh Blue,” he sighed, wiping his face, “you really are a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?” Before Lance could answer, Lotor turned to address his general. “Zethrid, take our guest to my chambers. It’s time he learned the true meaning of fear.”
——————- Chapter 1