#kwmonth

[callaeidae3]

[justheretobreakthings]

Whumptober Day 1: Shaky Hands

Okay, I’m trying really hard to get back into the Writing Mindset, so I’m doing some little ficlets for @whumptober2019 and - for this one and no doubt for others too - @kwmonth. Hopefully this will help me be ready to dive back into some of my longer ongoing fics later on, but for now, enjoy a quick scrap of whump!

“Keith! There you are!” Hunk raced toward the spot of bright side he’d spotted among the rubble, heart in his throat. When that Galra artillery craft had blown, they had been near enough to be caught right at the edge of the blast zone. Hunk had managed to get his shield up just in time, but Keith had been farther out than him, and Hunk wasn’t whether Keith had been able to withstand it as effectively.

Relief flood Hunk as he drew closer and saw that the red shape seemed to be moving, so at the very least, Keith was alive and conscious. “Keith!” he shouted again as he skidded toward where Keith was sprawled on the ground. “Keith, oh, man, thank god you’re okay. Are – are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Keith grunted, and his voice was strained, but not deathly feeble. Another relief. “Yeah, I’ll be all right. Mostly just winded.”

“Okay, phew. Good. Good, so, we can get back to the Lions now?” Hunk glanced nervously over his shoulder. The craft exploding had been a good distraction, but the soldiers who had spotted them in the base and chased them out this far were probably still in hot pursuit. “You need any help walking?”

“Nah, legs are fine. Let me just – ” Keith began to adjust himself and scrabble upright, but cut himself off with a strangled yell that made the hairs on the back of Hunk’s neck stand up.

“Keith?”

“It’s, um – my arm’s kinda – “

Hunk blinked down at the arm in question, and the source of Keith’s distress quickly became obvious. A shard of shrapnel was jutting out from between the rerebrace and couter, right into the crook of Keith’s right elbow, pinning it to the hard dirt ground beneath. “Oh god,” Hunk said softly, a bout of dizziness hitting him at the sight. “You just said you were okay!”

“It didn’t hurt that bad until I tried to move it!” Keith snapped. He turned his head to look more closely at the wound, then, gritting his teeth, he grabbed the end of the chunk of shrapnel with his left hand.

“What are you doing?!” Hunk cried. “You’re not supposed to take things out of stab wounds! You’ll bleed all over!”

“I don’t really have a choice, Hunk! Either I get this thing out, or I’m stuck here.” Keith adjusted his grip and tugged at the shrapnel. Immediately his chin began to wobble, and nausea raged in Hunk as the shrapnel moved, bringing a flood of deep red out with it. The sound of Keith’s strained, agonizing yell rang in his ears, until suddenly he stopped, the scream replaced with panting, and his hand dropped.

“Keith?” Hunk said, noticing how pale Keith had gone, and not sure if the sheen of sweat on his forehead had been there earlier.

“S’nothing,” he mumbled. “Just tough to get a grip.” He brought his hand up again, and it slipped along the shrapnel before he managed to get a proper hold.

“Wait, Keith,” Hunk said. He gulped and put his own hand over Keith’s on the shrapnel. “You’re not, like, steady, right now. You’re gonna wind up tearing your whole forearm off or something.”

“Well, it’s not like we have much of a choice!”

“Yeah, but – ” Hunk took a deep breath and looked back one more time. He could see the silhouettes of those soldiers getting closer. “How about – how about I pull it out for you?”

Keith’s brow furrowed as he turned his gaze to Hunk. “You sure?” he asked.

Hunk nodded even as his stomach screamed at him to turn away. “Course I’m sure,” he said. “You need help.”

“It’s gonna be bloody. Like, really bloody.”

“I know. But not like I’m the one who’s gonna be hurting.”

“… Okay.” Keith seemed to slump as he gave in, and Hunk lifted his own hands toward the shrapnel.

He tried not to think about the blood, or about the pain he was soon to cause Keith, but it was hard. Too hard. His hands shook as he reached the shrapnel, and he took a few seconds to grip it. When he did, Keith let out a whimper of pain; Hunk had apparently been shaking the shrapnel in its place.

“I’m sorry!” he cried, dropping it immediately. “Sorry, didn’t mean to, I just can’t – ”

“It’s okay,” Keith grunted. “It’s okay, just – just try again.”

“R-right.” Hunk positioned his hands over the shrapnel again, but still they shook. He couldn’t grab it, not when he was like this. “Keith, I can’t – ”

Before he could finish the thought, he felt a sudden weight over his right hand. Keith fingers wrapped over his own, holding it steady and tight. “Hunk,” Keith said. “It’s okay. You can do this, all right? You got this. Just breathe.”

“Just – just breathe,” Hunk repeated softly, and he did. Slowly, through his nose, eyes shut. He could do this. And they didn’t have long.

He let Keith’s grip anchor him as, finally, he wrapped his hands around the shrapnel, willing himself with every fiber of his being to keep steady. And he pulled. He tried to mentally block the sound of Keith’s scream as he did so, although he couldn’t avoid seeing the blood that welled up and spilled over when the shrapnel was out of the arm.

For a moment the edges of his vision went white, but he was brought back to reality by the sound of Keith repeating his voice, and he opened his eyes to see Keith sitting up and staring at him. His face was practically gray, he was drenched in sweat, he was cradling his bad arm that was still gushing blood, but he was sitting up.

“I did it,” Hunk panted.

“Yeah, Hunk, you did it.” Keith offered him a shaky smile. “And now…”

“We run?”

Keith nodded. “We run.”

[kwmonth]

KWmonth2019

Important update re KWmonth 2019!

This year we’ve decided not to do KWmonth as a separate event. Instead we’ll be turning this blog into a collection of reblogged Keith-centric whump fics and art created based off the prompts for Whumptober.

The decision to change the approach to KWmonth comes as both us mods are busy with college/uni and unfortunately don’t have the time or energy spare to run the event. Apologies for the late notice!

To make it easier for the fics and art to be found, please use the tag #kwmonth on your posts or else tag the blog (@kwmonth). The prompts for Whumptober can be found on the Whumptober blog here.

[fiollaigean]

sneak peek of my fic for Day 22/Krolia @kwmonth

18 Years Without You

One of the nurses came out after a few minutes to tell him the news, that his father was dead, Keith didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to feel. Because no one had thought to prepare him for this.

It doesn’t click until the social worker shows up at the hospital. And he starts asking Keith questions.

The first is, “Where's your mother?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you know when she’ll be back?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you know how to get in touch with her?”

Keith doesn't.

“What’s her name?”

Keith doesn’t know that either. Pop had never told him. All he had said was, “She’ll be back someday, Keith, I promise. She’ll explain everything.”

But his mother isn’t here now to explain anything, and his father can’t explain either because he’s dead, and that’s when Keith realizes that he’s completely alone. He'd been cut away from everything he ever knew, the person in the world he loved the most was gone, and he never would be back. Ever.

Read the rest on AO3

[greenteafiend]

1. Naxela

This is prompt 1 for Keithtober - Whumptober. You can see all the prompts if you’d also like to participate here. :) 

“Good job, Keith.”

Good, job Keith.

Good, job Keith.

Good, job Keith.

Those three words reverberated through his skull, and stabbed his heart.

“It wasn’t me,” he replied numbly, barely feeling the words pass his lips.

It should have been him, but there he was, still alive.

He didn’t feel alive.

Even though he was entirely unhurt, it felt like his spirit had collided with that barrier and burnt away into the nothingness of space. All that was left was a shell.

He didn’t realize that he’d automatically flown to the Red Hangar of the castle until he registered Lance standing in front of his parked fighter, waving at him with both arms.  

“You looked like you were zoning out, c’mon, space cadet. They’re letting Prince Lotor into the castle,” said Lance the minute his feet hit the ground.

Lance started to walk away, clearly intending for Keith to fall into step with him, but it was as if Keith was surrounded by sticky molasses, and his body refused to move.  

“Keith?” said Lance, confusion and concern creeping into his expression.

“Keith!”

Both of them jolted in shock at the sound of a new voice. It was accompanied by the pounding footsteps of owner as they hurtled closer.

It was Matt.

“Keith,” Matt repeated, eyes wild with worry. He slowed his pace as he neared them, panting with exertion and pushing his sweaty hair out of his face impatiently.

“You tried to--” Matt cut himself off, frowning deeply.

“Keith tried to what-?” asked Lance, eyes round with confusion.

Matt ignored Lance in favor of setting a hand on Keith’s shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

His gaze was just like Pidge’s. Sharp, like he could see right through him.

Keith found himself shaking his head.

Matt and Lance blurred before him and the weight of what he’d nearly done finally hit him.

“N-no,” he whispered.  

[randoyoyo]

Naxzela - Day 1 Keithtober

aka Whumptober, by @koganewest (and @callaeidae3 ?) A poem!

Heart beat.

Drop of sweat.

Panicked noise.

Start to fret.

There’s a light.

Growing brighter.

This is war.

I’m a fighter.

Pushing harder.

Muscles burning.

Tighter grip.

Heart is yearning.

Should have told him.

Does he know?

Doesn’t matter.

Not a show.

He’s what matters.

They all do.

Give your life.

It’s only you.

It’s only you.

Give your life.

Save them all.

End the strife.

She won’t win.

I can’t let her.

I can fix it.

Make it better.

Give your life.

End this stall.

Give your life.

Save them all.

[happy-birthday-keith]

A combo of day 5, Kerberos, and day 6, Fire, from the K-W Prompt list.

[art-by-berry]

Day 4: Bonds

Keith doesn’t want Shiro to comfort him but actually he really wants Shiro to comfort him.

Originally inspired by @kwmonth‘s “Naxella” prompt, but then it became some AU where Shiro and Keith wear cute, autumn clothes.

Also, as a side note, I really love Keith and Shiro’s bond, so that’s why I decided to feature them. I think there’s such a nice emotional closeness between the two, so I really enjoyed making this :)

Another side note: I’ve changed my username to art-by-berry to match my Instagram name (art.by.berry), so I’ll sign art using this name from now on :D