#yoichooseno fic

[yoichooseno]

In My Veins- Klance

Nothing goes as planned 

Keith dove behind a large, overturned object, providing Lance with the cover fire he so desperately needed. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. Wasn’t supposed to turn into an all-out blood bath in the foyer of the Castle of the Lions. It was meant to be a friendly, diplomatic meeting with the people native to the little planet. How were they to know the Galra had been hiding, waiting, watching this whole time? 

Everything will break 

Lance saw him before anyone else. The shooter, tucked behind a pillar to escape the ricocheting bullets and flashing blades of the blood slick foyer. He was smaller than his brothers, and yet, he was the biggest threat. Caused the biggest, most painful lump in Lance’s throat. He had raised his weapon and trained it on Keith. 

Before he could think, speak, or blink- Lance dove. 

Keith turned in time to watch Lance’s body fall. Just in time for time to slow. 

People say goodbye 

The only sound audible to Keith was the racing of his blood, pumping hard in his ears, and the distant scream of someone- him, his own voice- as Lance hit the ground hard, bounced once, and skidded across the floor. Blood poured from a wound in his chest, exposing bone and a number of things no one was ever meant to see. Galra technology was advanced, but Keith had never seen a bullet do so much damage. 

In their own special way

The rise and fall of Lance’s chest, however faint, forced air into Keith’s lungs. The sound of battle returned to him, the gravity of the situation crushing him, and all he could do was scream. Shiro, across the hall, turned to the sound of his comrade. His face paled. 

The soldier Shiro was facing sensed his moment of weakness and lunged, but Allura shouted for Shiro to watch out, and their own battle continued in a flurry. Lance would have to wait.

All that you rely on

Keith slipped across the mess of blood and ichor that darkened the ancient floor. Fear alone kept him on his feet as he drifted desperately toward the fallen paladin. He stooped as he neared Lance, and fell to his knees the moment he reached his side. Fumbling hands, clumsy fingers, pressed against Lance’s wound. 

“Hey,” Lance breathed. He sounded as though he spoke with water in his lungs. Keith gulped. It wasn’t water; it was blood, Keith knew.

“Shh,” Keith cooed. The simple sound, so natural that an infant child could mimic it before words, caught in Keith’s throat. “Don’t talk, Lance. Just keep your eyes on me.”

And all that you can fake 

“You are going to be alright,” Keith whispered, barely audible over the frantic sounds of battle. It was a blatant lie. Of course Keith didn’t know that. He couldn’t know that. The lie was grating on his own ears, but he forced himself to continue. “It’ll all be over soon. We’ll get you to a pod. You’re going to be okay.”

Will leave you in the morning

It was too early for this. Too early in the morning to even be awake, and yet they were fighting for their lives. Too early in the war to be fighting for their lives, and yet here was Lance, cradled in Keith’s lap now, gasping for breath. Every beat of his heart pulsed more blood from his wound, and yet his every fibre screamed for the oxygen each pulse brought. No matter what he did, breathe or not breathe, everything just hurt. 

Darkness crept in at the edges of Lance’s vision, and he knew. Knew he wouldn’t see the end of this battle. Knew without a shadow of a doubt that death was hovering on his doorstep, and sweet, sweet numbness would wash over him soon enough. He ached to have found his end so soon, but he was proud. Proud to be dying a hero’s death. Proud of Allura for her fight, proud of Coran for his constant support. Proud of Shiro for his leadership, proud of Hunk for his kindness, proud of Pidge for her endless curiosity. Proud of Keith. Proud of how strong his arms felt around him when he was surely feeling so helpless. Lance was proud of his family. He felt peace as the darkness swelled, and he smiled as he sunk deeper, deeper into nothingness.

But find you in the day 

Lance’s shallow breaths slowed, and Keith’s own heart practically stopped in his chest.

“Allura!” he screamed, voice ragged as the tears threatened to spill. “Coran!” His heart, lodged in his throat, ached. “He needs help!”

Keith didn’t notice the halt of the fire, the fading shouts of the Galra as they fled the Castle. He could only watch as Lance’s eyes glazed over, and his lips parted, and his heart stopped.

Shiro swooped in from the edge of Keith’s peripheral vision, scooping Lance up in his arms with more force than was necessary.

“Hey!” Keith’s protest was lost somewhere between a choke and a sob. 

“He needs the healing pod, Keith, there’s no time.”

[...]

“Oh, you’re in my veins and I cannot get you out/

Oh, you’re all I taste at night inside of my mouth/

Oh, you run away ‘cause I am not what you found/

Oh, you’re in my veins and I cannot get you out.”

Keith sang softly, propped against the healing pod which contained a broken, broken Lance. It was a tune his father used to sing to him, before he died. He had loved to write songs, and Keith had only learned to love them after his death. 

The others had long since fled the room, too eager to clean up the foyer, hoping busy hands would keep their minds from wandering back to Lance’s broken body. There was no guarantee the pod could fix what was wrong with Lance, for his heart had already stopped before Shiro ever grabbed his body. Keith knew this. Shiro knew this. But with a determination only a man in denial could harness, Shiro had brought Lance directly to the medical bay and stood him in a pod. Keith had watched soundlessly from the door, too tired to argue, or perhaps too nauseous. 

Now, Keith let his eyes flutter shut under the weight of fatigue. Lance would still be in the healing pod when he woke, and the others would wake him if anything changed.

Everything will change

He hoped something would change. Days passed, and little by little, each paladin, the princess, and Coran lost hope. Even the mice seemed to have felt Lance’s loss, as they scurried through the halls to bring whatever comfort they could to whoever needed it. Only Keith did not falter. 

He never left the medical bay, not even for a second. Somehow, he had convinced himself that the pod just wasn’t catching Lance’s heartbeat. But it was there. It had to be.

Nothing stays the same

Keith woke to the faint thump thump of the monitor. 

“That’s odd,” he thought, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “I could have sworn I told them to unhook me from the machine.” Still foggy from the pull of sleep, and the dream he had been startled out of, Keith slumped back against the healing pod.

He had dreamt that it was him inside the healing pod, that Shiro had put him in there mistakenly after stumbling upon him during a nap. No matter how loudly he screamed, how hard he banged on the glass, no one would let him out. Slowly, one by one, everyone had managed to convince themselves of his death until only Lance stood before him, a deep and unsettling sadness in his bloodshot, sleepless eyes. 

The whoosh of the healing pod opening startled Keith, but it was the faint whisper of his name that caused him to turn around. 

“Keith...”

Lance. 

Keith stumbled in his effort to right himself, whirling to find an incredulous Lance standing before him. 

Nobody here’s perfect

“Keith?” Lance looked dazedly around the room, trying to get his bearings. “Where is everyone?”

Keith, ignoring the question, lunged forward and took the taller boy in his arms. “They thought you were gone,” he whispered. 

“Gone?” Lance’s voice conveyed confusion, but also... relief?

Oh, but everyone’s to blame 

Keith pulled away just enough to look into Lance’s eyes. “Yes... They- that is, we- we didn’t get you into the healing pod in time. Your heart stopped, Lance.”

Lance’s eyes widened. 

“I thought...” Lance blinked back at the tears that welled suddenly on his eyelashes. 

All that you rely on

Suddenly, his arms snaked around Keith’s waist. His lips found Keith’s neck, over and over again. He held the dark haired boy to his chest so tightly Keith thought he might explode. Keith didn’t ever want Lance to let go. He tangled his fingers in Lance’s hair, giving gentle, tear soaked kisses to the skin above Lance’s collar bone, just visible above the collar of his underarmour. 

Lance sang, softly, into Keith’s ear. His breath ruffled his hair. 

“Oh, you’re in my veins and I cannot get you out/

Oh, you’re all I taste at night inside of my mouth/

Oh, you run away ‘cause I am not what you found/

Oh, you’re in my veins and I cannot get you out.”

“What did you just say?” Keith’s brows pulled together in confusion, but he did not move from Lance’s embrace. His fingers freed themselves from Lance’s hair and he pulled his arms down in front of him, palms flat against Lance’s chest.  

“I meant what I said,” Lance smiled into Keith’s hair. His hands never left Keith’s waist. 

“Oh, you’re in my veins and I cannot get you out/

Oh, you’re all I taste at night inside of my mouth/

Oh, you run away ‘cause I am not what you found/

Oh, you’re in my veins and I cannot get you out.”

Keith stumbled backward suddenly, trying to put as much distance as he could between himself and Lance. His palms felt hot where he’d used them to push Lance away. Alarm bells were ringing wildly in his ears, making it difficult to concentrate. 

“How do you know that song? My father wrote that song, and he died. I’m the only living soul who knows that song.”

Lance’s eyebrows knit in an expression of hurt, drawing a slight pout on his lips. “But Keith,” he whispered, “I’m dead.” 

“What?” 

And all that you can save/ Will leave you in the morning 

Keith woke, gasping and shaking in a cold sweat, against the healing pod. 

A dream. It had been a dream. Lance hadn’t woken. 

Keith turned his whole body, staring blankly at the body floating in the healing pod before him. He pulled his knees to his chest and began to sob. The monitor was silent, as it had been for days. His heart would not beat again.

And find you in the day 

Shiro watched from the doorway with sad eyes. He had known, known the moment he put Lance in the pod, that it would not resuscitate Lance. It was a fruitless effort, futile, doomed to fail. But every time someone tried to speak to Keith, he would scream and sob and throw himself against the glass of the pod, as though viciously protecting the lifeless inhabitant inside. 

It seemed he finally understood. 

Oh, I cannot get you 

[...]

Everything is dark 

It was dark inside the Castle, and darker in the vastness of space beyond. Torn between the Earth funeral Lance’s biological family would want for him, and the Altean funeral that just felt right, the paladins had felt they had no choice but to give him both. It left the Castle dark, the attire black, and every face stained with tears. 

“Hey,” Pidge said, as she helped Allura to straighten her traditional veil of mourning. “He wouldn’t want us to cry.” 

It was a weak attempt to cheer everyone up, or at least to stop the flow of tears down all the darkened faces before her. She herself was on the verge of tears, and she just couldn’t bear another minute of weeping. She was tired of it. 

“You know that’s not true,” Keith spoke. It was the first he had used his voice in many days, and the sound of it was ragged and breathy from the apparent lump in his throat. “He always worried he didn’t fit in. ‘Seventh wheel,’ he’d call himself.” Keith laughed without humour, as though the idea was as preposterous as he had wished it felt. “He would want us to cry. At least at first. So he could see what he meant to us. No, he wouldn’t want us to be sad forever. But he would expect us to cry at his funeral. We couldn’t-” Keith’s breath hitched- “we couldn’t save him. We owe him this much.”

It’s more than you can take

The tears started to fall again, carving a path in his pale cheeks from his eyelashes to his jaw, and Keith was bitterly aware that they began to rapidly hit the ground. He was standing where Lance had fallen. 

[...]

Keith stood before Lance’s casket. It was simple, temporary. The Altean funeral would follow this one, and it involved burning his body and spreading his ashes. This would do until his real send off.

Keith blinked tears from his eyelashes, willing them to spill so he could see properly. They slipped down his face and landed on Lance’s cheek. Instinctually, Keith reached out to brush them away with his thumb, but recoiled at the cool feeling of Lance’s skin on his. 

“Oh, you’re in my veins and I cannot get you out/

Oh, you’re all I taste at night inside of my mouth/

Oh, you run away ‘cause I am not what you found/

Oh, you’re in my veins and I cannot get you out.”

This fic is based off of Andrew Belle’s “In My Veins”

[secretlystephaniebrown]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman (Comics) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Stephanie Brown & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Jason Todd Characters: Jason Todd, Stephanie Brown, Tim Drake Additional Tags: Ghosts, Literary References & Allusions, Movie Reference, Based on a Tumblr Post, Humor Summary:

Jason Todd sees dead people. It’s not that big of a deal.

Man, it's been a while since I've written a Jason fic!

Anyways I was inspired by this Tumblr post by @asexualarkhamknight and @yoichooseno​. 

[yoichooseno]

Thanks so much! And yeah, 20 times... I don't do the whole thing over, but each section as many times as it needs, so it can be anywhere from a totally of 10 to 30. I'm a perfectionist 😅 But I love your work, compliments from you have me all asdfghjkl

Mayhaps... Worlds on Fire by Zerbin and JayTim?

I’m so sorry this took so long, and it didn’t even end up being that great :// i usually edit 20 times before I post, and I only edited this like three times. I swear school is sucking the life out of me, but here it is anyway

~

Time, it pulls awayThe biggest things happen outside the frame of logical passage of time. They just happen, and then they are just over. And some things, no matter how hard we resist, are bound to happen. Inevitable.

We held on through the war.Tim yelped as a stray bullet ricocheted past his head, leaving him breathless. A renewed wave of adrenaline washed over him as he drew his bo staff and began to swing. Across the alley, Jason hit the wall and ran, gathering enough momentum to flip himself over one of many attackers and shoot the masked stranger point blank. The pair were overwhelmed and quickly losing ground. Too much longer and they would-A final gunshot rippled through the alleyway. The sense of finality, the following silence, knotted Jason’s stomach into a fistful of dread.

Watching as our world crumbledTim hit the ground, time slowed, and something inside Jason… Broke.

We were holding up our scarsOne masked stranger cursed, another cried out, and then the ten remaining pairs of feet were slapping the wet alley pavement in haste, hurdling the bodies of their fallen comrades. Jason’s gun released a round of terror on the criminals, seven more bodies hit the ground, and then there were three. No one would dare even to look at Red Hood the wrong way after tonight. Three survived to spread the word. In less than a moment, the pair were left alone in a growing pool of red. “Tim!” yelled Jason, voice raspy with horror, hands dripping an ugly, violent red. “Tim, stay with me.”

You were young and we were scaredIt was Tim who lay gasping for breath, Tim who grew weaker with every heart beat, Tim who clutched weakly at the threadbare collar of a jacket so riddled with battle scars it was rendered virtually useless. It was Tim who lay dying, but it was Jason who would never be the same. Though he had been resurrected once before, he knew that something about this night would kill a part of him that no Lazarus pit could revive. “Tim,” Jason pulled Tim into his lap, pulling his broken body by the collar to hold him closer. Fat tears spilled onto Jason’s cheeks, fogging the inside of his hood. Jason choked on his fear.

And we grew braver than before“Jay. Jason,” Tim croaked. Blood dribbled down his chin as he paused to cough. “Jason. Look at me.”Jason’s free hand fluttered uselessly over Tim, the other still holding him close. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Tim laughed weakly. “It’s okay.”“What do you mean it’s okay?” A sob racked Jason’s body. “You’re dying!”“It’s not anything you haven’t done before,” Tim smiled up at Jason, blood sliding slowly down his neck to join the dark pool on the pavement, soaking the knees of Jason’s pants. “But you can’t,” Jason, so distraught now that his his words failed to leave his lips, sobbed.

“It’s still such a beautiful life,” Tim whispered. His grip on Jason’s collar was fading. Soon, he would be an empty shell of the former Red Robin. And before Jason could find it within him to say his final good byes, Tim went limp in his embrace and the world around him faded to black.

The whole worlds on fireIt was Jason who brought Tim home to Bruce, feeling like a cat presenting a dead bird as thanks.It was Jason who drank himself into an oblivion every night for a week.It was Jason who called Ra’s al Ghoul.And it was Jason who carried Tim into the Lazarus pit.

~

That was terrible I’m so sorry