#Lance whump fanfiction

[icypantherwrites]

Fic Update: Missing, Chapter 11 (FINAL)

Shiro slowly approached his bed, pausing at the foot of it. 

Lance didn’t say anything, heart thumping loudly.

“I owe you an apology.”

Shiro’s words cut into the air as the door closed behind him and Lance tried not to tense at the fact he was alone with Shiro.

Nothing, nothing was going to happen.

“I owe you an apology,” Shiro repeated, slightly softer that time and his eyes — charcoal no longer smoldering, not piercing — seeking out Lance’s. “What, what I said to you earlier… it was inexcusable, Lance. I,” he swallowed, “I thought I was making the best decision for Voltron and for your own safety, but… but I didn’t look beyond what facts I thought I had and I refused to listen. And,” he let out an almost bitter laugh, “even if I had my earlier actions towards you would have made it almost impossible for you to speak up. I was out of line, Lance. And I know that this apology can’t make up or erase what I said or what you felt, but… but I hope it can be a step in the right direction.”

Shiro went silent and Lance stayed the same.

His hands were starting to tremble around the mug and he bit his tongue as a bit of hot tea sloshed over the rim onto his fingers. 

Shiro sounded sincere.

He sounded like he’d realized his mistake.

So then…

Why did he still not feel right?

Why did everything still feel so wrong inside?

Read it here

(posted up through chapter 7 on AO3)

[then-be-a-warrior]

Sometimes I think to myself "hey, maybe this character needs a break" and then I remember I'm the one who's not giving them one.

[jcryptid]

Not even gonna pretend that this thing is only getting posted because my brain is currently be hijacked by a feral whump raccoon that needs me to just post this one fic before I get to work on anything else.

please, please, please for the love of god read the tags, i get graphic in this.

[justafandomfollower]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Arrow (TV 2012) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Laurel Lance & Oliver Queen Characters: Laurel Lance, Oliver Queen, Roy Harper (briefly) Additional Tags: Whump, Captivity, protective Laurel Lance, Laurel Lance is the Black Canary, AU, Febuwhump2023, febuwhumpday21, shackled, Oliver Queen Whump Series: Part 21 of FebuWhump 2023 Summary:

“Duck!” Oliver cries out, and Laurel obeys on instinct earned through months of ruthless training at his hand.

Just in time too, as a bullet flies over her head, and she turns in the direction it was fired from, letting loose a scream that echoes in the concrete room. Her target goes flying, crumpling against the hard, gray wall. When she straightens then, re-evaluating the scene, it’s to the realization that Oliver’s been paying more mind to her safety than his own. Someone’s kicked his knees out from under him and one man is in the process of choking him out with his own chains.

[here-there-everyfuckenwhere]

Cafunè (Ted/Trent)

Fandom: Ted Lasso (TV)

Relationship: Trent Crimm/Ted Lasso

Characters: Trent Crimm, Ted Lasso, Trent Crimm's Daughter (Seraphina Crimm), Mae, Roy Kent

Words: 4k

Description: 30 years since his fathers passing, Ted attempts to process his grief...

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Tonight was different. In that moment, he decided that he wasn’t at The Crown and Anchor at half ten on Monday, 13th of September 2021, as Trent Crimm, The Independent; he was at the Crown and Anchor as Trent Crimm, the friend that Ted desperately needed at half ten on Monday, 13th of September 2021. Because, unbeknownst to Trent, this was a night that Ted had been dreading for a long time.

“I’m here to see you, Ted,” Trent tells him, conveniently leaving out the part where he only came to gather an official statement.

“Awww, that’s real sweet of ‘ya,” Ted smiles, but it’s an empty, fake smile- Trent knows it as soon as he sees it. Ted’s eyes wander around the room randomly before finally meeting Trent’s for just a brief moment, all bloodshot and weepy. With his journalistic senses, as well as some common fucking sense and an ability to read the room, Trent deduces that the tears aren’t from drunkenness. Something inside of Trent’s chest feels as though its tugging and pulling once he realises. He gets up from the seat across from him and sits in the seat directly next to him, shuffling his chair in even closer, his voice barely above a whisper as he asks,

“What’s going on, Ted..?”

The smile on Ted’s face falters gradually as he finally meets Trent’s gaze. Something inside him seems to break, a crack beginning show in the optimistic facade he took pride in maintaining most of the time. He could feel the tears he had been fighting all night forming once again in his eyes. Meanwhile, Trent had gone full dad-mode, leaning in closer, slowly, reaching over to gently rub circle patterns on Ted’s back.

There was no use fighting anything back now; the tears streamed down Ted’s face, soft sobs spilling from his lips as he buried his head into the crook of Trent’s neck. A few heads around the bar turned to look at where the noise was coming from, earning an awkward smile from Trent, who was not totally sure what to do when someone other than his three-year-old daughter starting crying on his shoulder. Ted, however, thought he was doing a great job. Eventually he could feel his ragged breath becoming more even and calm as he focussed on the soft, smooth material of Trent’s tweed jacket against his damp cheek and balled up between his fists, and the faint smell of cigarette smoke and rich cologne that clung to it...

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Read on Ao3!

[cobalt-knave]

Whump Fic Recs pt. 1 (& a brief love letter and tagging tutorial)

Ah, whump, my most beloved genre of fanfiction. What is whump? Whump refers to stories prominently featuring injury or sickness and/or the care and recovery thereof. This is most often in the hurt/comfort category or the hurt no comfort category. It is a wonderful opportunity to shake up dynamics and reveal hidden character depths in a high stress situation. What do you do when the strong one is hurt? How does that call into question your feelings towards them? How does that call into question their feelings towards themself and their role? Who will care for the one who always caretakes? It’s a great tonal shift too. Just *chef’s kiss*. Plus, you know what? It’s sometimes just fun to run your favorite characters through the plinko.

How do you tag whump and why should you? The tags on ao3 to use are”

 “Whump” (not just “whumptober” or “whumptober 2022″ or other variations),

“hurt/comfort” or “hurt no comfort”

“angst”

“sickfic” if illness is the featured whump

“injury recovery” if such a thing is covered

“torture”, “car accidents”, “broken bones”, “blood and injury”, “blood and violence”, etc as relevant (start typing into the additional tags section to see what the common tag is to use.

“Character Name Whump” or “Hurt Character Name” if in a specific fandom whumping a specific character

all of the previous should be used in addition to the base whump tag.

if relevant, use the archive warning “graphic depictions of violence”

why tag? BECAUSE I WANNA READ IT AND FIND IT AND IT IS WOEFULLY UNDERTAGGED. It is also good to tag if someone wants to avoid it by excluding it from the search.

Alright. On to the recs. Multifandom including The Mechanisms, The Magnus Archives, King Falls AM, The Adventure Zone, Our Flag Means Death, The Murderbot Diaries, and Stargate SG-1.  There will be more whump recs to come.

On Account Of The Jonny Doll by NammiKisulora

Fandom: The Mechanisms

Ah, NammiKisulora knows how to make these immortals hurt in such twisted and unique ways.

 “Yeah. Get in, will you? I want to get going. Jonny keeps waking up. W-without skin.”    “Oh Yes! That Must Be On Account Of The Jonny Doll!”

Jonny is executed, which is a normal enough occurrence. It’s only afterwards things go wrong.

We Still Have the Radio - I. and  We Still Have the Radio - II. by luckjustkissedyouhello                

Fandom: King Falls AM

luckjustkissedyouhello writes some damn good, damn brutal whump!

The next thing he’s aware of is water against his face, wait no, all of him, where he lays on his left side. Water that is rapidly rising. He lays there dazed. Then a groan above his head has him jerking back into the moment, fear lancing through him, stealing his breath. Ben.

In which Ben and Sammy are in a car accident.

bleeding by Athina_Blaine

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Martin goes and gets himself stabbed. It's inconvenient.

Re-Initialization by CompletelyDifferent

Fandom: The Murderbot Diaries

This Unit: Where is my owner, Dr. Mensah?

Dr. Yuen: Well, that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? SecUnit, where did you last physically interact with Dr. Ayda Mensah?

Information Retrieval: Dr. Ayda Mensah last interacted with This Unit on Preservation Station at 08:27:22 on 4098-09-17 CRST.

This Unit: You do not have permission to access that information.

Dr. Yuen: You’re incorrect, SecUnit. We do. Answer the question.

(When the infamous rogue SecUnit of the Preservation Alliance gets captured, the corporate techs assigned to it expected to be able to get some juicy data, or at least some insights into its cracked governor module. They didn't expect something so... basic.)

trust me by gaysidecharacter

Fandom: The Adventure Zone: Balance

Everyone gets real sick and Lup is having a time.

Not an echo even by Hopeful_Foolx

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

They stop the Unknowing. There is an explosion. And trapped under rubble and panic, Jon wakes up. So does Tim. Three prompts, one story. Starting with Day 4 - Running out of Time

Friends in Strange Places by beesandcats

Fandom: Our Flag Means Death

"Steel in your side for so long was a weird feeling, Stede decided. It had actually been around hour six that he came to the conclusion, if anyone was keeping track. It had been around hour three, when he heard the snores from the other side of the deck, that he realized he should perhaps try to be friends with the steel in his side. Obviously, they were not friends."

A missing scene from Season 1, Episode 6. Stede's been stabbed and stuck to a pole all night. He's gonna need some help when everyone wakes up for the day.

Things Stay the Same by teyla

Fandom: King Falls AM

During blizzard season, Ben and Sammy, each for their own reasons, make an unwise choice. The experience that ensues should be life changing—though is it? 

In which there is a snowstorm, an accident, a soaked through jacket, and thoughts of revealing secrets.

Lifestock by NammiKisulora

Fandom: The Mechanisms

"Guys, you get what this means? It means fresh meat, every day for as long as we like." "The fuck are you talking about?" "Just sayin' we could leave his leg attached, tie him up, and bring him along. Carve off what we like at mealtimes instead. We dunno how long we've got to lie low for."

Tim is held captive for food after a battle.

Between A Rock And A Hard Place by Sam Walker

Fandom: Stargate SG-1

To save Daniel’s life, Jack has to do that hardest of all things: talk.

This fic is written from Jack's perspective. Daniel is involved in an accident off-world and the only thing Jack can do to help is talk to Daniel while everyone else works. I love this fic for the interaction between Jack and Daniel, and for the insights into Jack's motivations. Despite being mostly Jack and Daniel, you get a sense of camaraderie about SG1 and you can see just how much Jack cares about his team.

And if you read any of these, be sure to leave kind comments for the authors!

[heytheredeann]

Tropes Tier List

I was tagged by @cha-melodius, thaaank you! <3 I had fun, though I changed my mind a thousand times looool

Instructions: rank your favorite fiction (or fanfiction) tropes here to see what result you get (the titles of each color can be whatever you want).

Tagging: @huggiebird @dadralt @playpenn @set-phasers-to-whump @imgoingtofreakoutnow @sensitivehandsomeactionman @sarah-lance (no pressure!)

[icymakesazine]

AND GO!!!!! STRETCH GOAL TWO UNLOCKED! ONWARDS TO STRETCH GOAL THREE! DIVE DIVE DIVE!

Haha, seriously though, thank you all so much! We have officially hit stretch goal number two at 50 preorders which was:

50 – A random buyer from the first 50 copies sold will receive a “ticket” good for a 3,000 word fanfiction commission ♥ 

I’ll be designing a little gift certificate and it will be placed randomly into one copy of the zine. May the odds be ever in your favor!

The next stretch goal is set at 66 preorders and will result in a zine exclusive-exclusive fanfiction; how cool is that? You will be the sole reader of one of my fics and I’d love to be able to share it with you ♥ We’ve still got about a week so it’s possible!

Thank you all so much for your support of the zine and my works. It means so much ♥

Preorder Fanfictions (Zine and Sin) | AO3 | Ko-Fi | Patreon | Discord

[actress4him]

Black, Yellow, Blue, Green, Orange, Pink

...Red

Final part! Thank you all sooo much for reading, commenting, liking, and reblogging! I hope this last chapter is a satisfying end for you!

First | Previous

Warnings: referenced torture, mentioned suicide attempt, referenced conditioning

.

.

Keith is...improving.

It’s slow, and most people probably wouldn’t notice the progress. But it’s there. Shiro can see it. The rest of the team can see it.

He didn’t say much after his conversation with Red, leaving Shiro to wonder what, exactly, the Lion had told him. He seemed thoughtful, though, and a couple of days later, with the whole team in the lounge, he opened up, seemingly out of nowhere. While they all fought to keep their composure, he told them what little he could remember of his time in captivity, of beatings and whippings and electrocution and a chip being shoved under his skin to cause even more pain, of a fierce training regiment and the lingering feeling that he knew his targets, of a final command to turn the gun on himself if he should fail.

Allura had been the first to regain her voice after that, suggesting that they tell him things they remembered about his time with them.

It was a brilliant idea. Shiro wished he had thought of it before. Then again, maybe he wouldn’t have been ready, before, to hear it.

So, one by one, they started sharing memories of Keith. Memories of when he was happy, of when he acted like a dork, of when he saved their lives on the battlefield. Taking turns talking didn’t last for long, never did with this group, and soon they were laughing and talking over one another and trying to top the last story with an even more entertaining one. The rest fell quiet, though, when Shiro started talking about what Lance dubbed ‘baby Mullet’, back at the beginning of their relationship, before the others really knew him. They were enthralled by the stories of hoverbike rides and fist fights and early ventures in the simulator, offering laughter and friendly jabs in all the right places.

By the end, Keith still hadn’t indicated whether he actually remembered any of what they said, but he was smiling. Smiling. Nothing big, but there was a definite upturn of his lips that they all noticed and internally cheered about without drawing any attention to it.

Ever since then he’s seemed...more relaxed. Not quite as on edge. Like he’s slowly, very slowly, cracking open his shell and beginning to peek out. Not coming out, not yet, but for the first time since this all began Shiro has hope that he eventually will.

Standing just outside the doorway to the kitchen, Shiro listens to the sounds of Keith and Hunk cooking dinner together. The first time he’d happened upon them working together it had warmed his heart. Now he’s having trouble holding back tears.

“Do you want these, um...diced? Or cubed?”

“Diced, please! Thanks, dude.”

“Mm-hm. Sure.”

Pidge makes her presence in the kitchen known for the first time by mumbling a rhythmic, off-key, “Dice, dice, baby…”

“Seriously, Pidge? That’s so old!” Lance laughs. Obviously to Keith, he adds, “That’s an Earth song. From like, the dark ages.”

Shiro decides now is as good of a time as any to make his entrance. “Excuse me, my parents listened to that song. Are you calling me old?”

Pidge doesn’t even look up from her computer. “Um, yeah. Space Dad.”

Wrinkling his nose in an adorably confused manner, Keith pauses from his dicing. “But aren’t you like...six years old?”

Everyone falls silent in shock. Keith freezes, eyes darting around, then ducks his head. “Sorry. I...I don’t know where that came from, I shouldn’t have -”

“No!” Shiro shakes his head, unable to help his smile. “No, it’s...that was a joke we had. You used to tease me about it all the time.”

His eyes come back up, expression clearing. “Oh. So...I remembered?”

“Yeah, bud. You remembered.”

————————————

“Hey Keith. You wanna say your thing? I don’t think Shiro’s ever actually heard it.”

He perks up, looking up from the sauce he’s diligently stirring. His words. His new words, the ones that actually make him feel...happy. At least, he’s pretty sure that’s what happy is supposed to feel like. It’s not exactly the same feeling as being in the lounge listening to the Paladins talk and laugh, or of cooking with Hunk or watching Pidge tinker. Those are a different kind of happy. But his words make him feel...maybe peaceful is a better way to describe it.

“My name is Keith Kogane. No one owns me. I am a person. I am a brother. I am a friend. I am good. I am smart. I am an awesome pilot. My job is to rest and heal until I believe this again.”

Some kind of silent conversation is passing between Shiro and Hunk, and he’s not sure whether he should be worried about that or not. But a moment later Shiro smiles kindly at him and says, “That’s great, bud. So...how do you think that job is coming?”

Giving the sauce another stir, he considers the question, finally comfortable with not rushing to answer in fear of punishment. Does he believe all of it? He still doesn’t remember most of it, but between the Paladins’ stories and Red’s encouragement he’s starting to accept that those things about him are true.

He is a friend and a brother, the team treats him as such. Maybe he was once good and smart and an awesome pilot, and maybe he can be that again. And...no one owns him. The Paladins don’t own him, they don’t punish him, they don’t control him. He’s a person. He’s Keith Kogane.

Turning back to face Shiro, Keith smiles. “I think...I’m getting pretty good at it.”

[thegoodshit-ficrecs]

Love Me Like I'm Not Made Of Stone

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14941565#main

Title: Love Me Like I'm Not Made Of Stone Author: melancholymango  @melancholymango Rating: Mature Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Completed- 1 Chapter Published- June 15, 2018

Additional Tags:                                             

Major Character Injury

Suicidal Thoughts

Depression

Keith (Voltron) is a Mess

Hurt Keith (Voltron)

Hurt Lance (Voltron)

Hurt/Comfort

Friends to Lovers

First Kiss

Angst with a Happy Ending

Lance (Voltron) Gets Prosthetic Legs

if the sluts at dreamworks HQ won't address Keith's self-sacrifice

then i will

and i'll even make it gay free of charge

Season/Series 06 Spoilers          

Summary:            

So, no, contrary to the team’s frequent concerned talks to him and about him… Keith wasn’t suicidal. He wasn’t seeking death each time he launched himself into a situation that was practically promising him he’d find it. He just didn’t see it as a risk. They already knew that the lions could choose another paladin if they lost the ability to work with their current one. Hell, right now they had two pilots capable of piloting Black. So, why? Why would it matter if he died out on the field chasing his purpose?

This was what he was made for, wasn’t it? If he died for the cause, then he’d completed his mission.

[icypantherwrites]

Fic Update: Here, Chapter Six

“Allura, it’s not real,” Shiro’s hands were tight on Allura’s shoulders as she shook in his hold, tears streaming down her face that had crumpled in despair as she stared at the monitor.  “It’s not real.”

God, please don’t let it be real.

If, if Coran had just…

God.

It had been so fast.

Shiro had known to expect speed on Lance’s end but that…

That had been…

He still wasn’t even sure what weapon Lance had found to use, but…

But Coran…

Allura’s scream had echoed on the bridge as Lance had drawn it across Coran’s throat, blood flinging itself into the air.

It was fake, Shiro chanted to himself.

It was a trick.

Coran had said he could shift, he could protect himself.

It was a trick.

“He, he promised,” Allura gasped, overbright eyes lifting to meet Shiro’s. “He pr-promised.”

Shiro shifted his arms from her shoulders to wrap around her back, drawing her in close and shielding her from the grisly sight on the camera as Lance pilfered Coran’s pocket for the remote.

He was glad the others were in position and hadn’t seen.

Fake or not…

That had been…

“He promised,” Shiro said quietly, squeezing her tight and trying not to wince as Allura returned the embrace with more force than his ribs could take. 

Read it here

(not yet posted on AO3)

Summary: [Third and final part to the Sniper trilogy] Voltron has rescued Lance but the person with them now is not the same boy they once knew. Even outside the Galrans’ influence Lance believes himself to be Sniper, an assassin to the Galra Empire with his final mission to eliminate Voltron. It’s going to be a long, difficult journey that they know won’t end even when Lance does remember them as then he’ll also remember all of the horrors he committed as Sniper and have to come to terms with what he did. But they do know they’ll be there for him every step of the way because Lance was gone, he’s been found and now he’s here, with his space family, to stay.

[ladyfawkes]

FINALLY!!! AN UPDATE!!! Lol. Nice long one, too. Post-Cassandra's Revenge AU. Grievous injuries occur to more than one character during Cassandra's fight for magical dominance. These afflictions won’t become manifest until after they’ve left the Tower, however.

In the aftermath from Cassandra's Revenge at Black Rock Tower, Eugene is trying to use his rare alone time to process all that had happened. Thankfully, he has Lance to keep him grounded with his own irksome ways.

One enormous weight had been lifted and Eugene's psyche was flying because he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Rapunzel reciprocated all of his feelings for her. He also witnessed exactly to what lengths Rapunzel would move heaven and earth to fight for him.

Amongst his euphoria for Rapunzel, however, he must also figure out how to forgive Cassandra for all that she’s done.

Chapter 3 Summary:

Although Eugene had originally explained that he wasn't otherwise affected by his experiences from yesterday at Black Rock Tower, today was proving out much differently.

Eugene had tried valiantly to keep things from Rapunzel in order to save her more grief. Yet he had to quickly make the determination to tell her everything instead, due in large part to Lance’s prodding. Nobody had known it at the time, but Eugene’s affliction symptoms would soon send him spiraling too quickly. Unfortunately for Eugene, he would be caught up within the throes of the fight's aftermath before he could ever tell Rapunzel anything else. Or even confess privately to Lance. He was no longer capable of giving an explanation about anything to anyone.

What, exactly, had happened to him and who was to blame?

CHAPTER THREE MEA CULPA, TUA CULPA, NOSTRA CULPA

Approximately 40 minutes later, Lance, Rapunzel, Varian, and Eugene had sat down for tea. And although Eugene had originally told Rapunzel that the new scars didn’t hurt, the skin around them had definitely become more sensitized overnight. It’s why earlier he had practically jumped out of his skin even at Rapunzel’s lightest of touches. But he didn’t want Rapunzel to worry needlessly and he wasn’t entirely sure if the sensation was real or if he was just in a state of hyper-awareness and imagining things that weren’t there. However, since their confrontation in Eugene’s room, the presumed-healed wounds were even stinging and smarting somewhat, quite unlike before. Again, Eugene wrestled internally with the idea of telling her about what was happening or not. He finally decided that after tea, he should take Rapunzel aside and tell her about this latest development.

During the past several minutes, Eugene had barely touched even a morsel of his hors d'oeuvres, much less anything more substantial. That was not at all characteristic of his notoriously healthy appetite. At the present, he preferred instead to sip absently from the same cup of tea. Before long everyone at the table kept giving him surreptitious double-takes. Certain he must’ve been imagining it, Eugene turned away from the group and laid down his head, pillowing it against his elbow on the table…..and he was still barely touching that teacup.

Moderately taken aback by Eugene’s abrupt change in mood, the rest of them simply let him alone for the time being. Although still a sensitive person, Eugene wasn’t usually quite so moody anymore. In fact, Lance quite liked to tease Eugene about how his once formerly nihilistic professional thief friend had instead become a rather insufferable eternal optimist. The rest of the group wordlessly seemed to agree that whatever was happening would perhaps blow over soon and Eugene would be back to his normal self in no time.

Little did his friends know that at this very moment, Eugene had been additionally and shockingly swept up in the personal hell of biting back against rather sudden and excruciating pain emanating from his core. Red hot burning sensations now simultaneously emanated from and rippled outward from the new impalement scars; they had quickly forged a web of blazing pain over the entire surface of his skin. So rapidly tuned out was he that Eugene became practically oblivious to the world around him. As each corresponding wave of burning sensations caused him more pain, he subsequently had to fight mounting nausea, overheating, and dizziness. What was being fought from within him was now manifesting outwardly upon Eugene’s face, deepening his complexion to an alarming shade of crimson. Something Eugene’s friends hadn’t yet witnessed was him taking on the shocking appearance of one who had been stricken with extreme sunburn -- over the entire surface of his body. After all, Eugene had turned his back and covered his head with his jacket.

Some mysterious internal source of heat had arisen within Eugene, almost as if his body were trying to fight off something particularly nasty and virulent. And although earlier he’d promised to tell Lance and Rapunzel the story behind why he thought he’d received his newest scars, Eugene was currently in no shape to tell them anything, especially now, as he’d fallen silent with the rapid spiking of his internal temperature.

The young man had become so light-headed, overheated, and overburdened with pain that he could hardly think, much less speak intelligibly. Oh lord, it’s so hot, was one of Eugene’s only lucid thoughts.

At this point in time, he was finding it impossible to merely sit at the table without needing to fall sideways off the chair or slump bodily over the table. He was additionally getting so annoyed with all the racket surrounding him...the bits that penetrated his thickened consciousness and brain fog, anyway….why couldn’t the people around the table just stop yelling, already?? Eugene wished they all would just shut the hell up, and stop clanking their silverware on the dishes so loudly. That way, his ears would stop ringing and he’d have a better chance of getting his head to stop pounding a little. Although his back was toward his companions, they noted his non-verbal mounting signs of distress nonetheless. Rapunzel had stood up out of her seat and walked around the table to check on him. She lightly touched his shoulder from behind.

Without any outward indication he’d noticed her, Eugene greatly startled Rapunzel and everyone at the table as he clapped his hands over the ringing in his ears and shot up unsteadily out of his seat. He attempted an announcement to the entire table his intention to leave and take refuge in his bedroom until he felt better. Yet before he could complete any of the words coming out of his mouth, Eugene’s eyes rolled back in his head and he suddenly collapsed like a sack of potatoes. Everyone in the dining hall simultaneously expressed alarm and dismay upon seeing Eugene’s current condition.

‘--Gene!’” was the only panic-stricken syllable that Rapunzel managed to utter in that moment. Before the princess could even fully comprehend what was happening, Eugene’s chin slammed into the edge of the hard wooden table in front of him. The princess sprang into action and managed to catch Eugene before he could cause himself any further injury. Everyone at the table began chattering worriedly at once, wondering how it was that Eugene could go from looking perfectly healthy just minutes ago to outright fainting and turning red as a sunburn victim.

“Lance!” called Rapunzel. Lance made it to Eugene instantly, saying, “On it, dear Princess,” as he took up his friend Eugene’s side opposite Rapunzel and the pair laid the distressed young man on the cool marble floor of the dining hall. Varian had dutifully sprinted from the large hall, having volunteered to go summon the palace surgeon. They needed to see what, if anything, could be done for Eugene. And hopefully even get some insight as to his current condition.

Right now, blood was gushing from a superficial wound in Eugene’s chin where his skin had split open upon making contact with the unyielding table. Rapunzel had ordered one of the kitchen servants to bring her a bowl of cold water and several clean serviettes. This, of course, was done immediately. The princess took one serviette, folded over a corner, dipped it in the clean water, and pressed it against Eugene’s chin wound. It was only then he began to stir a little. He had turned his head enough to dislodge the cloth, which in turn caused Rapunzel to shift and firmly press the cloth back upon the wound.

“That huuuurts,” Eugene whimpered semi-consciously, feebly attempting to push away Rapunzel’s ministering hands with one of his own.

“I’m sure it does,” soothed Rapunzel, running her hand across his fevered brow. She looked up at Lance with deep concern, “He is positively burning up. Could you soak another cloth for me and press it against his forehead, please?”

“Sure thing, Princess,” answered Lance, and did what Rapunzel requested.

That much cold moisture coming into contact with Eugene’s reddened overheated face, however, nearly succeeded in fully rousing the unconscious young man. Their charge soon settled down, however, as Lance restrained one of Eugene’s flailing arms and Rapunzel restrained the other.

“Lance,” Rapunzel queried worriedly, “do you have any idea about what might be causing this curious overheating within him? And do you know anything about those new scars that he hasn’t yet told me?”

“The only thing I know for certain, Princess, is that he received these marks yesterday during the time, ah….Cassandra…..was squeezing him with rocks? -- whatever that meant.” Rapunzel’s eyes grew larger than saucers and Lance couldn’t hold her gaze. “But he did say he….” even Lance was having difficulty finishing the explanation in the same place where Eugene had, though Lance had originally been the one goading his friend into telling the Princess, “....he did say he had literally felt himself get run through in four places whilst being held onto by those rocks.” Rapunzel’s complexion noticeably paled, even in the bright afternoon sunlight of the dining hall.

“No…..please….no…..” she whispered, wilting before Lance’s eyes in spite of her obvious desire to remain strong for Eugene.

“But -- but he also was positively adamant and was almost certain that Cassandra wasn’t the one responsible,” Lance fibbed, not wanting to see Rapunzel’s confidence falter. “And that’s all I know,” he said in a rush, before he could descend any deeper. This little white lie of Eugene being sure it wasn’t Cass felt practically necessary right now.

“Really?” asked Rapunzel hopefully. Suddenly Lance understood why Eugene would do anything to keep Rapunzel from being disappointed or feeling betrayed, especially when it comes to Cassandra. “I wonder why Eugene wanted to keep this from me, though….” she mused to herself.

“The only reason he didn’t tell you is because Eugene knew how worried you would become if you had even one inkling that Cass had actively tried to kill him. His sincerest wish was to keep you from experiencing even more distress.”

Rapunzel looked down at her intended and ran her free hand lovingly through his hair. “And to think, I was upset with him for keeping it secret….I should've known he was merely trying to shield me. Dearest Eugene….what’s happening to you right now? If only I could’ve asked you sooner….” her eyes grew moist and she said to Lance, "he’s forever the protector, even when he’s the one in worse danger, or the one who’s truly suffered --”

“Princess Rapunzel?” An authoritative yet kind voice interrupted her speech as more quickened footsteps echoed across the hall. True to his word, Varian had brought the palace surgeon to assist with Eugene.

“Dr. Eden,” acknowledged Rapunzel, nodding with some relief, “thank you for coming so quickly. While we’re not exactly certain what’s affecting Eugene, we can tell you that the visual symptoms you can see weren’t affecting him as little as an hour ago.”

Lance stood up from his place by Eugene, volunteering the empty spot for Dr. Eden. The doctor quickly knelt down and began examining her patient. “So he’s not sunburned, then?” queried the doctor. “Not at all,” Rapunzel answered.

“And his fever?” continued Eden.

“He showed no signs of it at all until approximately 30 minutes ago, when he laid down his head upon the table during tea.”

“Hmmm,” Dr. Eden’s brows knitted together as she mused to herself. “Does anyone here happen to have a spyglass or other magnifier?”

“I do!” Varian chirped, clearly pleased to be of further assistance. The young teen stepped closer and volunteered his ever-present prism goggles. After Varian showed the doctor how to work the goggles, she asked the nearby servants if the castle had any ice stores in the palace cellars. Unfortunately, they did not and had used up the last of the stores the week prior and had yet to replenish them. It was then that Varian again volunteered. “Uhm, actually, I have an alchemical compound that creates ice from regular water almost instantly,” he said helpfully.

“Can the ice safely touch human skin?”, asked Dr. Eden. Varian answered in the affirmative. “Can you make enough ice to fill an entire washtub with it too?” Dr. Eden continued multi-tasking by asking Varian questions and closely examining the surface of Eugene’s skin up close with the goggles.

Varian made some brief calculations in his head and affirmed that he did indeed have enough ice-making compound for the task at hand.

“All right, then -- retrieve your supplies, Alchemist, and I shall meet up with you again in the bath chamber. My patient is in need of your services too,” said Dr. Eden.

“Yes, ma’am!!” said Varian excitedly, very nearly saluting the doctor as he rushed out of the hall, nearly ploughing into one of the palace servants in his haste. "Whoops! Sorry!!" the teen exclaimed in a hurry.

Then the doctor turned toward the princess and said, “We’ve simply got to bring down Eugene’s temperature as rapidly as possible. Now tell me -- has he perhaps recently been struck by lightning?”

“No!!” Rapunzel answered immediately. But then thought better of it.

“Wait….actually....” The power and energies that she and Cassandra had been wielding yesterday had certainly resembled nothing if not so much as awesome lightning…. And poor Eugene and Varian had been haplessly trapped and caught up right in the center of it all. Oh, how foolish she had been to assume they had all somehow escaped her goddess-like fight with Cassandra completely unscathed…..therefore she nodded despondently toward Dr. Eden.

“Y-yesterday,” Rapunzel’s throat constricted on the word, and a hand flew to her mouth. The princess could no longer speak. That instantaneous tsunami of guilt which built within her over the mere possibility that her actions from yesterday might’ve led to Eugene’s current state of suffering today threatened to overwhelm her.

Lance had just explained to her that Eugene was all but certain that Cassandra wasn’t the one responsible for his newest gnarly scars. Was it possible that’s because Eugene knew that Rapunzel was the one who had given them to him instead, however unwittingly?

[crystal-moon-101]

An Alchemist’s World - Pt.1 Part Of The Pack

Synopsis: 

Varian joins Lance, Angry and Catalina on a trip to a market in another town, hopefully to spend some quality time together. But when Lance fails to keep the three kids in his sights, they are taken by enemies from Varian’s past.

While captured, both Angry and Catalina will see the darker sides of Varian and his previous life, learning that there’s more to the dorky nerd they’ve become friends with.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Okay, I had to split this story into two chapters, because I realised halfway through writing that it was going to be so damn long! So I hope that’s alright and you still enjoy it.

Also, the whump/violence is kicked up a lot in this one, thanks to Andrew, so do read the warnings!

Fanfiction.Net --> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13674608/2/An-Alchemist-s-World

AO3 --> https://archiveofourown.org/works/25971832/chapters/63583753

[justafandomfollower]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sara Lance & Team Legends, Jefferson "Jax" Jackson & Martin Stein Characters: Sara Lance, Martin Stein, Jefferson "Jax" Jackson Additional Tags: Whump, Capture, Torture, ambiguous timeframe, Mission Fic, Febuwhump2023, Febuwhumpday26, forced to choose Series: Part 26 of FebuWhump 2023 Summary:

He waves her off easily, and it’s only the past hour of experience that has Sara shutting her mouth at the motion. Her cheekbone aches.

“No, no,” he says. “Let’s make this simpler. I let all but one of you go, you handle my problem, and then you walk away from here.”

Sara jerks in her restraints, gaze quickly gliding over her team. Each of them watches her with varying levels of composure.

[evilwriter37]

The Bigger Picture

Commission for @randomlifeunit

Rated: teen

Warnings: depictions of child abuse

Pairings: none

Word Count: 2,427

Summary: Keith is being plagued by nightmares that are causing him trouble sleeping. 

Keith shouted himself awake, sitting bolt upright. Sweat trickled down the sides of his face and his chest heaved with hard breaths. Nightmare. Another one. Realizing this, he breathed a sigh and ran a hand through his damp hair. It’d been like this for almost a week now. He didn’t know why. He supposed he had… trauma, (the word was hard to even think), but why had he been having recurring nightmares for this long? What was triggering it? Stress, maybe?

Unsure, Keith flopped back down onto his bed, rolled onto his side, feeling grumpy and tired. He was unsure of whether or not he would get back to sleep now. How could he? When he closed his eyes, he saw it on the backs of his eyelids…

---

“Keith, you get back here!”

Keith didn’t listen to the man shouting that. He never wanted to listen to him again. His face was smarting, blood rolling down over his cheek. He wiped at it, looked at in shock. 

Then he shook it away, kept running. Hopefully no one would run after him. 

After a time, he stopped, leaned against a tree, breathing heavy. He looked around for a few moments, making sure he was safe. The only thing that could possibly bother him was the sparrow hitting a nut against a rock to break it open. So, Keith sat down hard in the detritus of the forest floor, and for the first time in a long time, he cried. 

---

“Keith. Keith! Hello in there!”

“Yeah. What, what?” Keith asked, realized that he’d completely zoned out. It was Lance’s voice he heard over the comms. 

“I asked you a question,” Lance said. 

Keith rubbed a hand over his face. God, he was so tired. “Can you repeat it?” he asked, his voice coming across as grating. He hoped it didn’t sound too irritated. 

“Do you think the Galra know we’re coming?”

“That’s a question for Shiro.” Why had Lance bothered asking him? He was feeling terribly irritable today from the nightmares and lack of sleep, and if no one really needed anything from him, he was fine with that. He knew it wasn’t good to go into battle on lack of sleep, but he had no choice. The Galra had been amassing in a specific star system and they had to get there before their influence grew too large. 

“Ok, moody,” Lance responded. So he had heard the irritation in his voice. Great. 

Then, over all the comms: “Has anyone else noticed that Keith’s moody today?”

Lance, come on. Seriously? Keith gritted his teeth. 

“Isn’t Keith always moody?” Hunk asked. 

“Guys, now is not the time to discuss this,” Shiro said. “Stay focused.”

Thank you, Shiro, Keith thanked him wordlessly. 

The comms went silent, and Keith was left with his thoughts. 

---

“Why is there a bruise on your arm, Keith?” the teacher asked him. She’d pulled him aside to privately talk to him, and Keith had thought it would be about his failing grades, but instead it was something else. 

“I ran into a doorway,” Keith lied easily. Lying was something he was getting very good at, especially with his current living situation.

The woman looked at him skeptically, eyebrows raised. 

“It’s nothing, okay?”

“You’d tell someone if something was going on at home, wouldn’t you?”

Keith swallowed, looked away from her. “Yeah. Yeah, I would.”

“Alright. You may return to your seat.”

---

The battle went well. The Galra hadn’t stood a chance against Voltron when it was fully formed, even with Keith as tired as he was. He was just happy to get back to the Castle of Lions. He was going to shower, and then go right to bed. 

Or, those were his plans until Shiro pulled him aside. Keith’s armor was already half off, baring the black suit underneath.

“What is it?” he tried not to snap it, but was afraid that it came out sounding that way. 

“You weren’t as quick as usual today,” Shiro said. “Slower reflexes and response times. I’m just checking that you’re okay.”

Well, Shiro was someone Keith could be honest with. At least a little bit.

“I’m not sleeping well,” Keith told him.

Shiro’s face drew down in sympathy. “Any particular reason why?”

Keith shrugged. “No idea. Insomnia, I guess.”

Shiro put a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “You’d let me know if something was going on, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah.” Keith couldn’t meet him in the eye. “Yeah, of course.”

---

“You useless piece of shit!” Keith wished the words were the part that hurt the most, but it was the fist that came raining down on his back. “You were supposed to do the dishes, not break them!” 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! It was an accident!”

“Go clean that up now!” The fist finally stopped. Keith didn’t straighten though, remained cowering where he was. He didn’t move. “Now!”

“Y-yes, sir.” He went to go clean up the pieces of ceramic on the floor, accidentally stepped on a piece. He yelped as it slashed his foot, leaving blood on the white tile. 

“Serves you right,” the man said, shaking his head. “You better clean that up too.”

Keith knelt down to clean up the ceramic pieces, doing his best to ignore the pain in his foot. “Yes, sir.”

---

“Keith, that’s an order!”

“Yes, sir,” Keith said to Shiro over the comms without flinching, without stuttering, even though those words had a bad connotation. The academy had trained him to call his commanding officer “sir”, and he had to think about that rather than… him. Yes, Shiro was his commanding officer, and he would never cause him harm. 

Keith had argued about an order with Shiro, not quite understanding it, but now he was taking it anyway. He pulled the Red Lion around to complete the maneuver, the words “yes, sir” ringing in his brain. 

---

Keith couldn’t sleep. If he did, the nightmares would come, and they were just getting worse. Stress. It had to be stress. All of them were stressed with how much the Galra were pressing, and they were trying their damn best to take care of it. 

Keith felt ridiculous that the nightmares were so bad. Okay, he’d had a messed up upbringing, but hadn’t a lot of other children? What made him so special? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. That’s what his foster father would tell him right now, that he wasn’t special, that he meant nothing.

And right now, Keith believed it, believed all of it. All the words his foster father had ever said to him in anger were playing on repeat in his head. He was useless, worthless, a screw-up, nothing. His performance on the battlefield had shown that. He wasn’t a good pilot. Sure, he could blame it on the sleep deprivation, but how much of it was that, and how much of it was really him? Just how bad was he at what he did?

The nightmares were a mix of fragmented memories and horrible things his imagination could conjure up, things that hadn’t even happened to him, but that his subconscious saw was close enough, so it tormented him with it. 

Keith felt embarrassed, stupid even, but he was afraid to sleep. 

So, he laid down on his bed and stared at the ceiling. 

Until he couldn’t take it anymore.

Heaving a sigh, he sat up, looked around his room, and then left. 

The castle was dimly lit at night, not completely dark just in case people were to wander its halls. People like him. And… someone else. Keith heard footsteps ahead of him. Curious, he began to follow them as quietly as he could. Then, the footsteps stopped. He entered a room with a fountain, saw a familiar figure sitting there in front of it. The only light in the room was coming from the center of the fountain: a cold blue light that hardly lit up anything.

Keith carefully made his way over. “Hey,” he said quietly to Shiro, not wanting to startle him. Shiro didn’t seem entirely surprised to see him, so he must have sensed him coming. 

“Hey,” Shiro responded. He patted the spot next to him. “Come sit.”

Keith did, put his chin on his hands, stared at the fountain for a while.

“Why are you up?” Keith finally asked of Shiro.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Shiro responded. “Had a nightmare.”

“About?” 

Shiro lifted his prosthetic arm. The metal shined a little in the blue light. 

Keith nodded in understanding. That must have been so hard, waking up with a piece of your body missing. He couldn’t imagine how that had felt. What was his trauma compared to Shiro’s? 

“Why are you up?” Shiro inquired, looking pointedly at Keith, wanting a straight answer. 

But… maybe Shiro could understand.

Keith looked at his prosthetic again. Or… maybe not. 

“Insomnia,” Keith answered.

“Still?” 

“Yeah.”

“If you told Coran or Allura, I’m sure they could find something for you to help you sleep,” Shiro said. 

Keith shook his head. “I’m fine.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

---

Keith felt weak. He hadn’t slept in two days. They were about to go on a mission, and he was sorely needed. He had to do this. It didn’t matter how much sleep he hadn’t gotten. 

Finished with his breakfast, made by Hunk, he pushed himself up from the table with his arms and stood. His knees shook.

“Keith, are you okay?” Pidge noticed there was something wrong first. She was the more perceptive one out of the Paladins. 

“I’m… I’m fine.” He cleared his throat. “Fine.”

He took a step away from the table, no longer using his hands to support himself. 

And he promptly collapsed onto the floor. He grunted with the impact.

“Keith!” The Paladins were yelling his name, surrounding him. “Keith, what’s wrong?”

“Ughn…” Keith moaned out, unable to find the words. He was too damn tired to. He tried to heave himself off the floor, and then everything went black. 

---

Keith awoke in his bed on his stomach. He didn’t know how much time had passed. There had been no nightmares with this bout of unconsciousness. But he hadn’t wanted to be unconscious. There was a battle they had to get to. He was needed!

Keith rolled over, tried sitting up, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him from doing so. He looked up, saw Shiro standing over him, a concerned look on his face.

“Keith, what’s wrong? We ran diagnostics and you seem to be medically fine.” Shiro removed his hand, went and sat in a chair that he’d probably put by the bed. The other Paladins were in his room as well.

“Lack of sleep,” Keith told them honestly. Maybe now was the time to spill it. 

Shiro shook his head. “Be honest with me. Why haven’t you been sleeping?”

Keith did sit up this time, and no one stopped him, though he felt dizzy upon doing so. He probably looked awful, pale with dark circles under his eyes. He put his head in his hand. Yep, he had to come clean.

“I’ve been having nightmares. And- and they won’t stop. I can’t sleep because of them. It’s infuriating.”

“Nightmares about what?” Lance asked. 

Keith looked to him, then at each of the Paladins. Could he really tell them what was going on? It seemed so small and insignificant, insignificant just like him. 

“I… uh… had a bad time growing up,” Keith answered. His mouth was dry. He looked away from everyone, down at his blankets instead. “After my dad died, I was put in a foster home. The man who ran it… he was terrible. He yelled a lot. He liked to use his fists. I wasn’t the only kid there, and we all went through the same stuff.” 

“Keith, why didn’t you tell anyone?” Shiro asked. “Maybe talking it out would help.”

Keith looked to Shiro. “Because I don’t want to talk it out. It’s stupid. It’s small and insignificant. We have bigger problems right now than me having nightmares about my childhood.”

Shiro shook his head. “No, we don’t actually. If any of us have problems, we don’t function well as a team.”

Keith just nodded a little. That hurt, but Shiro was right. 

Shiro put a palm to his forehead. “That’s not what I’m trying to say. What I’m trying to say is that you matter, and that we care about you. We need you, Keith.”

“But it doesn’t matter. It happened years ago. I shouldn’t be having nightmares,” Keith argued.

Shiro reached out, put a hand on Keith’s knee. “But you are.”

“Why?” He didn’t know why he was asking this of Shiro. How would he know?

“Stress can make PTSD flare up,” he said.

Keith angrily shoved his hand off his knee. “Yeah, but I don’t have PTSD.”

“Uh, dude, you just described trauma to a T,” Lance said. Keith looked around, the rest of the Paladins nodding.

Well, fuck. 

“Okay, fine, maybe I have it.” Keith threw up his hands. “But it doesn’t matter. We have to look at the bigger picture here. The Galra are-”

“Keith.” Shiro said his name so softly. “You are part of the bigger picture. Don’t you think that matters?”

Keith looked at his blankets again, swallowed hard, licked his lips. “O-okay. Yeah, I guess.”

“You need sleep, man,” Hunk told him. “Like, really badly.”

Keith rubbed a hand over his face. His eyes felt like they wanted to close. This conversation was exhausting him. “Yeah, yeah I do.” He looked at Shiro again. “What do you do? When you get nightmares? How do you make them stop?”

Shiro chuckled. “It’s kind of funny, actually.”

“Tell me.”

“Well, I lucid dream,” Shiro explained. “So when the dream gets too bad, I picture myself hitting the button for an escape pod.”

“And that works?” Keith asked incredulously. 

Shiro nodded. “But only if you lucid dream.”

Dammit, Keith didn’t do that. “Anything else you got?”

“Meditation and tea.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.” Shiro made it clear with his expression. 

“Alright. I guess I’ll try that.” Keith rubbed his face again. “But I’m really tired, guys. Can I get some rest?”

The Paladins jumped over each other saying that of course he could get some rest, that he definitely needed it. Keith gave a small smile. These people cared about him. They were his friends.

“Thank you, you guys.”

After each of the Paladins left, Keith laid down, and it wasn’t long before he reached sleep. At least this time, there were no nightmares. 

[forgotten-daydreamer]

"bonding moment"

Rating: general audiences

Archive warnings: none

Word count: 2255

Summary: my take on what happened during the famous bonding moment.

Read it on ao3