- Langst One-Shots

-party time.

I've had this in my drafts since before Halloween so I am so sorry if some of the writing is weird Im just trying to pump out stories rn wheeze

[Trigger Warning; Suicide mention]

[Klancelot]
—

Lance McLain threw the absolute best parties. His friends were never anything less than grateful for the huge celebrations he'd throw for them every time their birthday was near or even the smallest accomplishment. Though funnily enough— the young Cuban himself never celebrated his birthday. The group didn't even know when it was, to be quite honest. Lance kept quiet about his birthday.

Like today.

His birthday was today and here he was under his sheets crying silently.

He was sad.

...depressed.

Maybe even suicidal, he'd say.

Lance spent his birthdays in his room crying or on his bathroom floor carving into himself. When he was younger, he refused to eat the week of his birthday. Luckily his friends hadn't yet noticed— they'd all just been on about their days. They were having some sort of sleepover in the living room. Lance didn't decline for several reasons, but that's besides the point. It was obviously a fib to get away and do what he wanted.

But, it's kinda hard to go somewhere when you're dead.

Or at least, about to be.

Because little did the crew know, Lance was sobbing in the corner of his room.

With his gun in hand.

He breathed shakily, forcing himself to press the gun to his temple. Notes splayed across his already bloodstained floor, each paladins name written in large neat letters. Everyone's name was in the color of their previous lion— Lance had been planning this for a while. The perfect suicide, the perfect notes. Of course, he'd prefer a noose, but realized that it'd be too much of a hassle to get him down— if the others even bothered. Cleaning someone's brains off the floor wasn't exactly pleasant either— but Lance laid down a small mat for easy cleanup. It was really awful when you stopped to think about it.

His finger lingered on the trigger, hot tears rushing down his face.

And then...

BANG.

Lance dropped his gun, the weapon and himself colliding with the floor at the loud knock at the door having had frightened him. Panic rushed through his already shaking body, merely adding to his tremors. "W-who is it?" He shouted as clearly as possible, hoping the cracks in his voice weren't evident enough to cause any concern.

"Hey Lance, are you okay?" A voice called out. With Lance's ringing ears the owner of the voice was unclear. He was still surprised he'd managed to even hear the door over the ringing and screaming in his head.

"I heard crying... what's going on Buddy?" A soft voice called out. Lance's vision wavered as he tried to understand the voice's words. His head pounded as the lights in his room shone down on his eyes. The lack of blood began to get to him as he collided with the floor beneath him, the ground rushing towards him in what seemed like forever.