langst oneshots

Why is it so hard to be happy (new)

Trigger warnings: bullying, implied sexual harassment, implied sexual abuse, discussion of suicide ideation, suicide attempt, self harm, self-loathing.

The— new— red paladin felt worthless to his team, he missed being the blue paladin, not the scraps of his defective teammate. The offhand remarks from his team rubbed off on him, being "comic relief", "lazy", "selfish". Their words hurt, he felt the sting of each one in his heart.

They did nothing but add to the insults he called himself on the daily, though, he wouldn't bore anyone with those thoughts. They were his and his alone.

Oftentimes he found himself laying in bed while the others "bonded" with one another. He couldn't be bothered. Truly, why would anyone wish to spend their time around people that talk about him behind his back, about how lazy and unprofessional he was. He was trying his best!

The worst of times came when the alarms rang out, designed to inform them of incoming Galran attacks. Lance despised being a paladin just as much as he loved it. He loved the glory of helping others and being recognized for it, yet hated it for taking away his freedom. Taking him from his family and his planet.

But also for his teammates. The ones he was supposed to trust more than anything in the world. They were the ones that would catch him if he fell, just as he was to do the same for any of them. He doubted they'd care if he did. He was replaceable.

Allura's voice rang out through the castle he wanted to call home, "paladins, there is an incoming attack, get to your lions immediately to fend them off." Honestly, she spoke like an RPG narrator. Lance wasn't sure if he should laugh at the princesses' idiolect, or cringe.

He rushed to the armoury, where everyone else was long gone to their respective lions. Of course he was late, typical-

"Lance!" Shiro said through the com, cutting off his self-deprecating thoughts.

Lance wanted to say he finished changing in record time, but he fumbled too long with the armour and couldn't find his bayard. Remembering that he'd left it in the lion a bit too late. He raced through the hall to his lion and eventually, he joined his team on the battlefield— battlevoid?—.

"Where the hell have you been, Lance?" Yelled Pidge as they dodged a blast.

The red paladin snarked back a lazy comment about "not rushing perfection."

To which they muttered something along the lines of "the dead don't give a shit what you look like," though he wasn't sure, since the comms distorted their voice. He knew most of their deaths were his fault anyway, his laziness was the biggest downfall of their team.

——

Aching muscles screamed at Lance as he trudged down to the reconnaissance room with his team, for a debriefing of the recent attack. Then they were granted a few hours of leisure time before training resumed. Coran liked to call it his "Paladin mental wellness initiative." The name was long and unnecessary, but the intent behind it was enough for Lance to disregard his own opinions.

Said Altean greeted the Paladins with his signature smile, "congratulations on defeating yet another Galra fleet today, paladins! go eat some lunch and take a break, we'll be meeting in three vargas for a bonding exercise," said Coran.

Lance plastered on a smile and turned to retrieve his lunch, when Allura stopped him. "Lance, your behaviour on the battlefield has been unacceptable lately, I understand that you pride yourself on your looks but that is no excuse for being late, especially not during a war."