Angsty Klance Oneshots

Words Cut Deep

This is a oneshot requested by the wonderful Miststrike. I really hope it is to your liking and how you wished it to be. Alright, I hope you all enjoy this oneshot requested by Miststrike.

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~Lance's POV~

I sigh, holding my razor steadily as I cut into the scarred skin of my wrist, carving the words the echoed so loudly in my head into the soft flesh. The razor makes its final cut of the day, ending the word and leaving it so beautifully spelled out in the crimson liquid as it dripped from the wounds. 'Replacement'. One, simple word yet it held so much meaning. The one word Iverson would spit at me when I had done wrong. The one word the echoed the second loudest. I take a deep, shakey breath and let it out slowly, dabbing away the blood with a damp cloth. I bite my lip at the slight sting accompinied by the action but releshed in the way the cuts burned, there now on my skin as a permanent reminder of what I was. A replacement.

I bandage my arm and sigh, looking at the other scars that adorned my other wrist. These ones weren't as intricate, these had less care put into them. These didn't form words, no, they are the result of many insults said by Him. These were put here to remind me that no matter what, my skin will never be pretty, not ever again. At least not to other people.

I get up, checking the time on my phone before throwing on my favorite long sleeved shirt and heading down to the mess hall. I tucked my hands into my pockets as I walked, picking at the inside of the pockets anxiously until I got to the door of the mess hall. I threw on my cockiest smile and strode in.

"Hey guys, what's up?" I ask casually, looking at the other paladins as they at their breakfast food goo. They only glanced at me before turning back to the green blob that sat in the bowls in front of them. I sigh and slide into my seat at the farthest end of the table, picking up my spoon and eating small bites of my food goo as I kept quiet.

When training time came around, I fought the bots off until my body wouldn't allow me to anymore and I was thrown by one of the gladiators. I flew and landed right on someone, making everyone groan.

"Of course, Lance is the first one down. Why can't you just train harder and get better? Why can't you be more like Keith?" asks Pidge as she rubbed her back, getting up from where we had both landed. I look down at my feet, sighing softly.

"Why can't you just do something right for once? Maybe that's why you were made a cargo pilot. So you wouldn't screw anything up for the rest of the world if Earth were to fall under attack." She says, glaring at me. I flinch and look around the room, my head hung low. Everyone's eyes were on me, but not in a good way. Shiro walked over to Pidge, checking to make sure she was okay. I saw Keith staring at me and looked down at the floor, mumbling an apology before leaving the training deck. I walked briskly back to my room, slamming my hand on the door pad and walking in. I let the door behind me slide shut before I quickly dug through my bedside drawer, finding my razor. I wasted no time rolling up my sleeves and ripping my bandages off before I started to carve new words into my arm, cutting deeper with every letter. I repeated the action with my other arm, tears blurring my vision as I bled heavily onto my bedroom floor. I didn't care, I just kept going until someone grabbed me from behind, making me kick and scream.

"Lance, what the hell are you doing?" Hisses Keith's voice in my ear. I scream, not responding as I tried to finish my task. Keith saw the blade in my hand and eases it out of my grip, seeing all the words on my arms as he turned me to face him.

"L-Lance, wh-why?" He asks, his indigo eyes brimming with tears. I open my mouth to reply only to have the world suddenly spin and go black.

~Keith's POV~