#fuck you body and brain and gaaah

[mysticalsoot]

any other chronic illness girlie just like wake up with random pains they had in their dream..? cause me too...

[borathae]

I don't know if you do it on purpose when you make him call him angel/ heaven/ north star but I love it! The vocabulary of divine adoration to someone who represents a heavenly being to a vampire who's known only he'll and demons for so long in his life

I love how Jungkook to him is synonymous with guardian and protector and a safe home for his heart :(

Also the banner is perfect because for some reason I kept picturing them wearing white in the bonfire

I'm just so happy for taehyung. Truly. I know he loves oc immensely and he wants eternity with her but I think what he has with Jungkook is on an entire different plain honestly!!! Despite the short time and this just goes to tell you that his heart is so big and has capacity for the biggest of love stories still after all the heartache and pain inside. Explains why his lust in the beginning was so insatiable, he couldn't get enough. It's like his soul body and heart knew what his brain couldn't grasp. Like his soul knew it was sick and Jungkook was the only remedy. I believe the magnet that kept pulling them together is just that, Jungkooks heart and touch yearned to protect taehyung and taehyung s heart knew there will not be anyone else to guard his heart better than kookie. (Mini flashback to the inconcious waist grab when taes got stabbed) We all thought it was going to end badly or just in fuckbuddy type thing but I'm so glad it actually didn't!

And when they cried and cuddled:( :( I'm so happy for teteboy I swear he's such a sap romantic and he found a cheeseball like him who appreciates it when he does charcuterie boards and speaks in poetry and gets flowers and kisses their knuckles:(

I don't know if you do it on purpose when you make him call him angel/ heaven/ north star but I love it! The vocabulary of divine adoration to someone who represents a heavenly being to a vampire who's known only he'll and demons for so long in his life

gaaah this is so lovely!!!! I love love LOVE what you said 🥺😭💜 it's definitely on purpose that I make him call him such nicknames but your analysis of why he does it is so fucking romantic and lovely I'M CRYING

I love how Jungkook to him is synonymous with guardian and protector and a safe home for his heart :(

*sobs harder* I LOVE THEM

Also the banner is perfect because for some reason I kept picturing them wearing white in the bonfire

aaah I love that!!! goshshsh this is very lovely to hear 💜

I'm just so happy for taehyung. Truly. I know he loves oc immensely and he wants eternity with her but I think what he has with Jungkook is on an entire different plain honestly!!! Despite the short time and this just goes to tell you that his heart is so big and has capacity for the biggest of love stories still after all the heartache and pain inside.

I agree <3 what he has with Kook is definitely special and goshhhh not you hitting me with the angst 😭 he is such a lover, like even after everything which happened, he chooses to love 😭😭

Explains why his lust in the beginning was so insatiable, he couldn't get enough. It's like his soul body and heart knew what his brain couldn't grasp. Like his soul knew it was sick and Jungkook was the only remedy. I believe the magnet that kept pulling them together is just that, Jungkooks heart and touch yearned to protect taehyung and taehyung s heart knew there will not be anyone else to guard his heart better than kookie.

gaaaah gaaaah aaaah!!!! AAAAH!!! I'M SO DEEP in my feels omfg 😭😭

(Mini flashback to the inconcious waist grab when taes got stabbed)

barking THis is still so hot to me fnadnsf

We all thought it was going to end badly or just in fuckbuddy type thing but I'm so glad it actually didn't!

no but me too!!! istfg I'm so happy that it didn't end in that 😭

And when they cried and cuddled:( :( I'm so happy for teteboy I swear he's such a sap romantic and he found a cheeseball like him who appreciates it when he does charcuterie boards and speaks in poetry and gets flowers and kisses their knuckles:(

they're so right for each other 😭

[crazy-lazy-elder-sims]

.

Man trying to personally build and maintain a work ethic and discipline with ADHD is freaking impossible

Like my two options are to either get a job evert few months that forces me onto a random damaging work ethic that doesn't work with my ADHD so quiting over and over and over when it exhausts me till i reach my breaking point and try to jump off the window again and again and again

Or the preferred option for anyone that has ADHD is starting your own business and trying you hardest to build a stable work ethic that works WITH your disability and then FORCING yourself to adhere to it which of fucking course doesn't fare well with the ADHD ...

Starting somthing a sitting down is the worst but i realized that starting on a small thing and finishing it brings in more motivation to make bigger things but also the extreme focus and 100 thoughts bouncing around in my head while being forced by ADHD to use every muscle in my body to concentrate is exhasting and makes strating work again the next day the worst thing in the universe (thus making me fall into a loop of executive dysfunction) cause i always end up with mucles that are sore and mean a headache and my brain DOES NOT AND WILL NOT willingly go into that again gaaah this is exhausting and scary

[willadisastercry]

Keith has a whole panic attack in the middle of a mission...

tw: description of a panic attack, depersonalization and derealization, breathing difficulties

Keith is the leader. How was he supposed to let his team know that he was dissociating when he was supposed to be leading them? He tried to push past it to finish the mission, but he can’t, not this time.

Keith secretly hates explosions.

Like really hates them.

Well, explosions and anything loud or jarring. So basically every sight and sound that came with the commotion of battle.

He’s in a war, he knows that the things he sees are terrifying.

Except it isn’t always battle.

It’s anything.

But he also knows that he doesn’t have time to have that type of visceral fear of something he experiences nearly every day.

So he ignores it.

He ignores the flinches and the odd looks and the spilled drinks and the times where it takes him an extra beat to respond over the coms.

He ignores it until he can’t help it anymore.

He pushes it down until the pressure is too great and it lets itself loose.

He can’t possibly let his teammates know that he is that vulnerable, that skiddish, that weak.

That they haven’t even made it through the war and he’s already been marked by it.

Because he’s observant and he seems to be the only one of his teammates that experiences it aside from Shiro.

And even then, Shiro has an explanation.

A reason for it.

But Keith doesn’t.

And though every now and then the tenors of battle catch up with one of them and the gravity of it all makes a striking appearance... but none of them crumble like him.

None of them struggle in their lions to make sense of what they’re seeing or hearing or doing with the sensory overload that came with battle...

or when his friends’ chatter spikes a little too loud and he shivers at his newly unfocused vision as they drone out of range...

or the bass of a song rings a little too heavy and then all he can hear is the sound of his own heart and suddenly he’s forgotten how to fill his lungs...

or the whir of an engine or machine somewhere distant in the castle stops him dead in his tracks, suddenly leaden with the burning anticipation of an attack, both alien and anxiety.

He wrote it off as just a teeny little aversion to loud and unexpected sounds. A knee-jerk reaction that he just couldn’t help. Nothing to dwell over.

Just sometimes when he’s particularly stressed or overextended or on a particularly noisy mission and something catches him off guard, he loses his breath. His focus. His awareness. But only for a moment. Because the feeling always passes and he waits until the battle is over to deal with it in safety.

At least it usually passed.

A thundering boom swallowed Keith’s attention as Black tumbled dazedly through space, jarred and unmoving, not because the lion was out of commotion from a strike, but because Keith was.

Keith had just been relaying an order to fall back and regroup when an asteroid in his blind spot exploded into dozens of bits and pieces beside him, one of the fighter ships having hit it rather than Black.

He should’ve been relieved because he wasn’t stunned. He could still fight and help his team.

But he wasn’t.

Because damn, why’d he feel so weird now.

He blinked hard and took a deep breath.

No. Not right now. It was nothing, you weren’t even hit. You’re fine. You’re team needs you, just focus.

“KEITH, do you copy?! Yellow and Red are stunned, it’s just me against this entire fleet—gah! I could really use some backup!” Lance rushed over the coms, but it took Keith a minute to fully absorb what he had said.

Everything seemed so delayed and distant even though the sound was right in his ear, it was like the coms were... yeah the coms were probably just fudged up.

Keith blinked back the haze that clouded his vision and brought his hands back up to the controls.

He didn’t remember them ever falling away or when they had started shaking.

So he took a breath, ignoring how tight his chest felt and sent his lion back into motion anyway, a minute later coming up on Lance’s rear and immediately returning the fire of the fleet that was kicking his ass.

“About time! What’d ya take a cat nap or something—“

“Shut it—“

“Guys I’ve almost retrieved all of the data... Shiro there are five sentries escorting a the package coming down the east corridor... Hunk, Allura, how are your lions?! There’s another fleet headed your way that Keith and Lance won’t be able to hold off on their own!”

Zip. Zip. Thud. His legs had officially gone numb.

“Working on it!”

“Red seems to be weak, but I will see what I can do.”

Zip. Crash. Boom. The cotton in his ears really muffled everything, making his friend’s voices sound robotic.

“Shiro!”

“Keith, on your right!”

“The reinforcement fleet just deployed and is headed your way!”

“Can anyone cover me while—“

But Keith didn’t hear the rest of Lance’s pleading question because another explosion or zap or something was making its way through his chest and rattling his lungs. It had been really close. He hadn’t even seen it. But he felt it. Was black okay? Was he...?

Keith inhaled sharply, his chest was now so tight it felt like the air he sucked down went nowhere.

“Fuck...”

He tore his hand away from the control stick, clawing at his armor so he could slip his hand under and scratch at the warm, sinking feeling just under the surface of his skin.

“Language, Keith!”

“What’s your deal, mullet? I’m getting destroyed over here...”

“M’sorry L’nce...”

Keep it together. Just a little bit longer.

But there were so many ships. And he just felt so off.

“Everyone just focus!”

But that’s the issue, he couldn’t focus.

“Almost done! Shiro and I will be on our way soon—“

“GaaAH!! Keith what are you DOing?!”

He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing either.

It was like he was on auto pilot, the sounds of battle and his teammates overwhelming him so much that his consciousness was starting to sort of retreat.

“Damn it...”

His voice was a broken whisper. He knew this feeling.

It started slowly. His hands were tingling, like pins and needles except he couldn’t quite feel any of his extremities anymore. He knew the sensation was there but everything was so dull, too far away to grasp.

He flexed them, stretching them out completely and then wringing them together.

Nothing.

“Shit—guys m’sorry,” he slurred, his mouth was so dry it came out as more of a croak that his lips couldn’t quite articulate correctly.

The whooshing of lazers wouldnt stop, it was constant. It was in his ears, it was in his chest, it was suffocating him. He grunted dejectedly.

Now wasn’t the time. Now was dangerous. Not even just for himself but also his team.

The steady beat of his heart lapped dizzingly inside his skull. They were relying on him and he was falling apart.

Please... not now.

Every nerve in his body seemed to hum with anxious energy, even though he wasn’t- he couldn’t be-

He desperately tried to stop it, tried to beat down the feeling as quickly as it flared, but it wouldn’t settle.

He thrust his head back against the pilot chair and sucked in heaving breaths.

He needed air. He needed to not be in Black and not be in space, anywhere but where he was.

And it just kept mounting. All the sounds of the battle going on outside, the conversation over the coms, the beat of his own heart. It was too much.

It was all just too much.

With a strangled yelp another wave of anxiety washed over him and he went rigid. His breathing was desperate and hysterical now.

His chest never relaxing past the arc of his pitiful breaths. Not releasing much, or filling much either, just tightening further and clenching harder each time he tried.

He could feel himself giving in to his body’s overachieving stress response, how his mind stayed firm but his constricted lungs pleaded with him, hell bent on removing the stress of the anxiety flooding it any way it could. He might pass out if it continued any longer.

But there were no messages being received by his brain or sent out to his limbs anymore, the channels had shut down. Nothing was in sync anymore. His mind wanted mercy, it begged with his body to listen to reason and to no avail. He was in danger, but this wouldn’t do him any good. It would get him killed. It would get his team killed.

But nothing would get through now. Not when he couldn’t manage his own breathing, not when the option wasn’t his anymore. There was no room to try and regulate it now, he was well past that point.

He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t keep it back, the terrible feeling that was now consuming him.

The floor had already dropped out beneath him, he’d already missed the stair, the shot of panic had fired, had been set into motion and there was no stopping it now.

It was cold and prickly and daunting and he didn’t want to feel it anymore. He’d pass out for sure and splatter his brains on the control panel in front of him if it continued.

He couldn’t.

He didn’t—

And then almost as subtley as it came on, there was a strange ease that flowed through him and his entire body went numb now, both hands falling limp in his lap and Black tumbling forward lifelessly as soon as he let go of the joysticks once more.

It was a different kind of warmth. Not even a warmth really. Just a lack of a crippling cold or anxious heat.

Like the dial had been turned from 10 to 0.

He’d broken, he’d caved.

He failed in subduing the ridiculous feeling. And now he was stuck. He was floating. Not just in space, but also somewhere outside himself.

It wasn’t that he was looking down on himself or able to see his own body. Rather he felt like he had lifted from the ground, like anti gravity had failed and he was now floating up except he was still within himself sitting on the chair.

Keith could see that he had not moved or shifted, but since he couldn’t feel it he couldn’t stop the sensation of believing that he had.

He wasn’t sure what was worse in this situation, full on panic mode or utter catatonic.

Both were dangerous.

Both he couldn’t stop or help even if he wanted.

But at least before he could move.

The only benefit to his withdrawn conciousness was that his hearing was filtering back in.

“—th-ieth—ome in!”

“—too many, fuck!”

“—damned mullet, where are you?!”

Soon he could sort of make out the indistinct static from the coms and then the mush of voices separated and solidified and he was becoming aware of the flurry of concerned remarks mixed with indignant ones that were flooding the channel.

“Has anyone had any word from Keith?”

“He sounded sort of strange that last time he was active...”

“Wait, what happened?”

“Is Black down?”

“Keith, do you copy?”

“There’s so many...”

Zip. Crash. Zip. Zip. Thud.

And as he came back to himself for a moment he also became well aware of Black’s absence. The lion had been taking heavy fire and was rendered just as unresponsive as Keith.

“Lance if you corner them against that asteroid then I think I can power up Yellow enough for one blast!”

“Red is starting to respond...”

“Agh!”

“So no one has gotten a status from Keith?”

“Keith do you copy?”

“Is he okay?”

“Keith?”

But things were growing fuzzy again, his surroundings dimming as his hearing faded again.

“Keith...”

His eyes lolled around lazily before glazing over, reducing whatever was happening over the coms and outside of Black to a sort of hollow static.

He didn’t think he’d call this blacking out, because he never lost consciousness. He just lost... awareness.

Like he was aware that the strap around his waist was the only thing keeping him from bonking around in Black since zero gravity was now actually down. And he was aware he was floating helplessly off into space, and that he didn’t feel like he was in his own body, and that he still wasn’t breathing properly.

But he wasn’t aware of how much time was passing, or that his coms were still working and his team was desperately trying to get him to respond, or that he was still very much being fired on.

This went on for a while.

But he supposed it was safer like this. Because when he feels the panic rise, the only thing he can focus on is stopping it before it gets really bad. But then when he can’t catch it in time he hyperventilates. And passes out.

Because the need to squash it down and the fear of not being able to sometimes made it worse. Like so much worse.

And so sometimes his body retreated instead.

He was scared to feel that, to feel everything at once. And he knew what came with feeling like that. His body remembered what he’d do to try and take back control, like muscle memory, like scar tissue.

He’d pinch his leg until it bruised or punch a wall until his knuckles split just to have something else to focus on so he didn’t get so hysterical he wasn’t able to breathe and faint or sob so hard he’d make himself so dizzy and nauseous he threw up.

The options were really endless. And they all terrified him.

But this time he’d had so much else to worry about that he couldn’t ground himself even if he tried. Sure it might’ve involved smashing up his hand on the console, but he wouldn’t have put himself or his teammates in danger by checking out like this since he hadn’t.

So instead when the panic rose but the battle still raged, it overwhelmed him rather quickly because he couldn’t handle something so abrupt all at once. It was too much input and he was just so tired already that his body didn’t even try to fight it for long and acted on reflex before he could.

His consciousness retreated and left him sitting in his pilot chair catatonic, his frozen gaze boring a hole into the dark control panel in front of him, his heart beat and the whirring outside an after thought over the serene sort of high of being detached from everything. Of feeling absolutely nothing.

If his chest hurt, he couldn’t feel it. And if his nails were digging into the skin of his gloveless hand through the fists he held, he couldn’t be sure until they opened. Or if his breathing had leveled, or hadn’t, or if Black was okay. He couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel anything.

And so he stayed like that until Blue and Green latched their claws onto Black and began towing them both back to the castle. The suddenness of it jarred him, tearing him from his bliss before he was particularly ready to come back.

Keith had no idea how long it’d been, but he knew he was moving now.

He reached around blindly for something to anchor him, the fact that he was physically floating around in his seat really didn’t help the false sensation of floating he felt as he tried to come back to himself.

Keith still wasn’t all there and it was another kind of terrifying. He blinked dazedly, hot tears making their way down his face and meeting at his chin.

He must’ve groaned or whimpered or breathed a conscious-sounding breath because the coms were alight in his ear after that. Though their sentiments were still delayed as it took him a while to decipher each phrase, his teammates worries managed to cut through the intense ringing.

“Keith!”

“Do you copy? Repeat: Keith, do you copy?”

He groaned again. He wanted to assure them that he was okay but his mouth didn’t move the way it should.

“The mullet lives, yay!”

“Shut up, Lance... and don’t worry Keith, we’ve gotcha.”

His breaths came in harsh pants now. He wanted to come back down into his own body. He wanted to feel his hands again. The in between was almost worse then the peak of it, not being neither here nor there felt so wrong. But no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t summon the feeling back.

He looked down as his hands clenched and unclenched. No, he hated that there was control but still no feeling and was soon discarding the other glove, wringing his hands together until they went white and then banging them against the console when that didn’t work but all he got was an angry nudge from Black.

Black! Black... hi.

He didn’t realize the presence of Black in his mind could be so comforting. It warmed him. He hadn’t known he was so cold.

Paladin hurt! Black Lion sorry they couldn’t get paladin safe. Black Lion also hurt. Black Lion sorry.

No... I’m not hurt and it’s not your fault. This-this happens sometimes I just... wasn’t ready. I’ll be okay.

Black Lion tried to wake my Paladin up. Blue and Green Lions came. They heard me calling to my Paladin. They help my Paladin.

I know they’re helping me. I’ll be okay soon. Thank you, Black. You did so good.

He was able to relax a little after that because Black was using whatever energy he had left to send reassuring waves of comfort to Keith. And eventually his breaths weren’t so harsh, but he still wasn’t really himself yet.

Just when he was coming to a steady pace, a regulated and somewhat controlled rhythm, Black’s ramp lowered with a hulking crack.

The panic swirled again. It rose up in his throat like sick would and then he was hunched over and heaving, gripping the arms of his chair so tight it was like he was scared he would all but disappear if he didn’t.

There was a hand on his back that made him flinch so hard his stomach cramped at the movement.

“Keith!”

Another was pulling his helmet off.

“What’s wrong buddy?”

Air. He breathed in deeply, almost choking as recycled Keith air became recycled castle air. Not much of an improvement but enough of a change to have his chest stuttering.

“Keith, can you talk? Can you tell us what’s going on?”

It was cold outside the helmet and his body trembled. You weren’t really supposed to sweat inside of the paladin armor, it was literally designed to regulate body temperature, but Keith’s hair was stringy and stuck to his forehead and it certainly didn’t help how cold he’d suddenly become that he was drenched.

“He doesn’t seem to be injured...”

Hands were pulling at what was left of his armor, he’d almost forgotten he’d basically ripped his chest plate off.

“Yeah, no, he’s all good. So why—“

His lungs swelled with a heat like he had inhaled fire, he couldn’t stop his strangled gasps now, or the tears.

He couldn’t breathe.

“Cn’t—can’t! Sh-Sh, f-fuck-can’t! Shir-Sh-Sh—“

“Woah, there mullet. Just relax buddy.”

“Uhm, shit. Shiro! We need you like now.”

“Hurry...”

Keith felt like his chest was in a vice grip. Like his lungs were being squeezed and dripped dry of every ounce of air they contained. Everything tingled and felt so far away all at once. His own hands felt far away as they clawed desperately at his neck, scratching at it like that would bring the air back and stop this. His blood coursing cold as ice through his veins, the steady flow of it burning against the heat concentrated in his chest.

He could vaguely feel tiny hands pulling at his own as they rubbed the skin at the back of his neck raw. He blinked back the tears welling in his eyes only to find that black dots had also joined the party and let a gutteral whine escape along with a particular strangled inhale.

And then a shadow loomed over him and he distantly thought he must be fainting until Shiro’s hands descended on his face, his own coming into view as they were held away from him.

“I’m here! Yes you can. You can breathe. Why don’t you try doing it with me? Just like this. That’s okay! Don’t worry about it right now, it’ll come easier soon, just keep trying. Yeah, just like that. Here, put your hand here, follow me. Good. That’s good.”

Keith came back to himself slowly and in parts. Once he could feel his hand on Shiro’s chest he tightened it around the material, like he might disappear too. And then his other hand was frantic, searching for something else that was solid.

“We’re here, we’re right here,” Lance assured, taking Keith’s hand up and squeezing. He sounded scared.

Why would Lance be scared?

“Hmn, huh-huh-fff...” the curse tapered off in a crackle, it started out as a languid sigh but turned into a sheepish hitch.

“Hey, just focus on breathing. You’re okay, everything will be alright. You’re safe, you’re back at the castle,” Keith clung to Shiro and Lance desperately, the sensations coming back to him and making him both overwhelmed and relieved.

“That’s it, just worry about breathing.”

Shiro was pulling the hand not clutching at his shirt away from his thigh where the nails were digging in, producing a sharp tingle that Keith welcomed because it was something. He then moved the strands of hair dampened out of his wide eyes while they darted around, wild and almost unseeing. That’s how Shiro knew what was wrong. That look. The distinct haze of Keith not really being present.

“Pidge is getting you something to drink if you’re up for it. And we can go somewhere else while you calm down, but only if you want to...”

Keith didn’t like the idea of moving just yet, of trying to walk. Because when he walked in this state he could really feel himself drifting off, detaching further with each heavy step. And apparently that got conveyed to Shiro who was squashing the idea from the response that followed it.

“We’ll wait a bit, no worries. We’ll wait here for as long as you need. The battle is over, you can relax now.”

Keith didn’t know what it was about what Shiro had said, but the comfort in knowing he was safe, that he was allowed to be vulnerable like this in front of Shiro... it got him. He didn’t know where he found the emotional reserves but was soon crying so hard his breath hitched as snot gushed from his nose and erupted in wet coughs from his throat.

There were hurried fingers fumbling with the belt that trapped him in his pilot chair, but then he was released and falling forward to his knees and into Shiro’s arms.

“I’ve got you...”

His cries were desperate and heartwhrenching, Lance caught himself wincing away at times, giving Keith’s hand a squeeze when he let out a particularly whining hiccough.

“I just-I just... I need it to stop-I don’t want to f-fe-feel like this... anymore, please-I-I-c-c-can’t-I can’t make it stop...” he sobbed, completely at the mercy of his swelling panic now. He hated not being in control of himself, he felt so weak and he hated it.

“You’ve gotta let it run it’s course, it’ll end. I promise, it’ll end... just breathe for now, in and out...” Shiro soothed holding his hand against his chest again so he could feel his calm, deep breaths and mimic them.

Lance motioned to the door, silently asking Shiro if him and Pidge should go, but Keith twitched when he moved to get up and let out a choking whine.

Keith didn’t want to be more alone, he didn’t even care about how weak he must seem.

“You want us to stay? We’ll stay, whatever you need...” Lance covered their clasped hands with his other hand, Pidge taking post at his leg and working herself between him and Shiro, getting a glimpse of his face with her new position.

“We’re right here, we’re not going anywhere.”

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, Shiro rubbing circles on his aching back as his whole body shook, Lance on the floor a little further away letting him pinch and squeeze his hand as long as it wasn’t his own, Pidge humming something softly and guiding the straw of the hydration pack into his mouth when he allowed it.

He felt so safe. And loved. He just felt bad he couldn’t calm down quick enough. If he was more of his right mind he wouldn’t have been caught dead letting himself fall to pieces in front of his friends like this, but he didn’t have the energy to worry about that then. He was more than over it but coming out of that state completely proved difficult.

“S-sorry, I’m trying... I c-can’t-“

“That’s okay, however long it takes bud.”

There were moments where he was completely lucid and making jokes and moments where his breathing would become unsteady again and he’d try and ground himself but hands were there to stop him.

Eventually he mumbled something about being cold and wanting to go lay down.

“Okay, we can bring you to your room if you want... yeah? Ok. Lance do you mind—careful”

“Whoa!”

“Easy there, mullet.”

Shiro and Lance hoisted Keith up but his legs wavered and he leaned heavily into his friends’ supporting arms, turns out the feeling hadn’t fully come back yet.

“Sorry,” he gushed, “my legs feel... weird.”

“That’s okay, we’ll just take it slow.”

And they did. They guided an unsteady and still shaking Keith back to his room at a snails pace, stopping occasionally when he advised them that the room was spinning and he wasn’t sure he was still on the ground so they could assure him that yes he was in fact still on the ground.

They didn’t rush him or get mad when they had to pause, even Lance took on a concerned tone of understanding. Because he did, he seemed to understand perfectly just like Shiro had that Keith couldn’t control any of what his body was doing or how it felt. Because if he could help it, he would’ve finished the mission and walked himself back into his room, but he couldn’t help it. And they somehow knew that.

And they let him know that it was okay that he couldn’t.

When they finally got there they helped him sit and get him out of the rest of his armor. It was apparent that his hands weren’t quite working right just yet.

“I’ll get that,” Pidge said unfastening the straps of his boots when he struggled at the clasps, sliding them off for him. He didn’t even mind. He felt like he should’ve jumped at the brush of her hand against his, but he didn’t.

“Let’s get you out of this,” Shiro offered, dragging the zipper at his back down slightly.

He only grunted and shut his eyes because his head was pounding from all the sobbing he did and he wasn’t spinning anymore so the action didn’t make him nauseous now.

And then he really, really would’ve been embarrassed when Shiro and Lance were tugging him out of his suit, especially since Pidge was there, but he couldn’t find it in him to care much that he was in just his boxers.

And neither did they. They took care of everything for him as he sat there in a haze, just focusing on staying upright and alert while they helped him get dressed. He hadn’t even realized that they were done until Pidge was curling up in his lap not seeming to care that he was still trembling, Shiro and Lance carefully stripping the rest of the signs of battle away.

Although he was less hysterical, his body was still working its way through the physical symptoms that usually came after. Like being really delayed with his responses and his legs occasionally uncontrollably bouncing or how he’d involuntary take a huge gulp of air every once and a while.

They would ask him something occasionally and it would take him several blinks to comprehend their sentence and respond.

But soon someone was bringing a cold rag to mop the sweat from his face and the residue of blood from his palms where his nails broke the skin. It soothed the blotches he felt around his bloodshot eyes and helped ground him in a way he’d never really expected it could.

Pidge successfully intercepted a concerned Coran who had barged in at one point making Keith nearly jump out of his skin. He just wanted to know if a pod would ease his distress and tutted in understanding as they calmed him back down and continued to clean him up, because no this wasn’t something that alien tech could fix.

And then when they were done they wrapped his fuzzy throw blanket tightly around his upper body before easing him back against his pillow and shrugging the comforter over him. Pidge refused to leave his side when he gruffed that he didn’t care if they stayed or not and remained curled up against him like a cat. Lance strewn out at the foot of the bed. Shiro close by on the floor with his head against the wall.

It didn’t take him long to settle down like he had thought it might, like it usually did. He was completely exhausted, so that helped, but he was also just so at peace with his friends surrounding him that it came easy.

They all stayed until they heard his breathing even out until he was snoring lightly with his mouth hung open.

And then they figured they could stay just a bit longer until their eyelids started drooping and they fell asleep like that. Pidge having been out since her head hit Keith’s arm-pillow and Lance hadn’t been too far behind once he knew Keith was sleeping peacefully.

Hunk and Allura checked on them all quietly once they returned, not wanting to disturb the peaceful bunch. They didn’t stay because they were dead tired after having had wrapped up the mission by themselves once Lance and Pidge left with Black and Allura had dropped Shiro off.

But they also didn’t stay because from what Coran relayed, they’d had a moment with Keith and were taking this time to bond with the boy that didn’t let anyone besides Shiro in ever.

It was historic and they didn’t want to push it.

Keith had let himself be vulnerable in front of his teammates. He had let them take care of him. And they were glad that he did and were happy to do it.

They loved him. And he knew that.

He went to sleep thinking about that... knowing he was loved.

It was the best sleep he’d gotten in space so far.

[schneesisterss]

Into Stone- Part 3

Part 1  Part 2

you can also read it on ao3 here!

so I might stop posting these chapter on here lmk if you still want me too

__________________

It was warm. Blake sat on one of the branches near the top of the tree, keeping an eye on the forest. Not that it was very difficult, another gift from the forest was the ability to see in the dark. 

It had been 5 hours since her companion fell asleep, Yang. Blake wondered what her name would feel like coming out of her mouth, but she didn’t dare try. 

Normally, Blake wouldn’t have to keep watch when she was by herself, she could sleep in the trees unbothered, the forest would never harm her after all. But she wasn’t by herself anymore, and this situation definitely wasn't normal. With the other girl around Blake didn't know how the forest would react. So, she was keeping watch.

Blake still isn't sure why she offered to help Yang. Normally when she runs into her kind in this forest, they are Hunters. Only here to find and kill her and her family. 

This girl didn’t act like a Hunter though. Not even close. Hunters knew exactly why they were there: to collect her head and deliver it to Jacque Schnee, earning the hefty bounty that would come with it. They would tell her who sent them and what they were going to do, hoping to weaken her with fear, threatening her mother and her father too, taunt her about… She would turn their bodies to stone soon after. They were always so arrogant. 

And Yang.. she didn't even know where she was when Blake found her. Of course, she could be lying, but Yang wears her emotions on her face. It wasn't hard to see the genuine confusion and panic on her features when Blake had her pinned to the ground.

Plus, if she tried anything, Blake would be ready this time. She wouldn't be tricked again. Not after Adam. 

Blake sighed and removed her mask. She placed it on the branch next to her then rubbed her eyes with her hands. She was getting tired, but there was no way she would put herself in a vulnerable position in front of the other girl. She’ll wake her up an hour before sunrise.

Blake thought for a moment before getting up and making her way back down the tree towards Yang. She crouched a couple branches above her sleeping figure, studying her frame with unmasked eyes for the first time. Her features soft and relaxed while she slept. She was tall, and where Blake had lean, toned muscles, built for agility, Yang had big and bulky muscles, built for strength. She was still wearing her tank-top, so Blake could see the outlines of the girl's arm muscles even when she was asleep.

Blake felt something in her chest, but smashed it down before she could identify what it was.  

Stay focused.

Blake shook her head and climbed up the tree again. She would wake her in the morning, until then, Blake sat with her back against the tree and waited.

_____________

“Gaaah!” 

Yang startled awake when she felt something tap against her head. She flailed her arms trying to fight against the attacker that dare poke her forehead.

“Stop, stop,” Yang felt her wrists being locked together in a firm hold, “you’re going to knock yourself off the branch.”

“Wha..?” Yang said sleepily, as she felt her wrists being released.

“Get up, it's going to be light soon. We should start moving.”

“Where am I?” Yang was slow to get her bearings. Groggily, she sat up and looked around with tired eyes. She saw Blake in front of her, watching.

Blake.

Everything came rushing back. The plane crash, the hours of hiking through the jungle, getting jumped by Blake, climbing the tree, learning about the jungle.

Her head hurt.

Oh right. “It probably wasn't a good idea for me to sleep on a concussion.” Yang said, rubbing her eyes. “Good thing it's not a server one.”

Blake hummed. “Come on, it's time to go.”

“Damn, can't I wake up first?”

“You’re already awake.”

“Yeah I know, but not like-” Yang sighed and started to stand, “nevermind.”

Now, if Yang thought climbing up the tree was hard, boy was she in for it with the climb back down. When they got back around to the front of the tree, Blake had simply just hopped off the branch, that was still 15 feet in the air Yang wanted to point out. She still had Yangs machete tied to her hip and her spear strapped to her back.

With wide eyes she carefully inched her way to the edge of the branch and looked down.

Blake was checking their surroundings. Even though it was still mostly dark outside, Yang guessed that it wasn't a problem for the other girl. 

Apparently satisfied with what she found, Blake turned her head to look back up at Yang.

“It's clear, you can come down now.”

“For sure, for sure,” Yang said nodding quickly, trying not to show how nervous she was about the big drop in front of her. She backed up a few steps and took a deep breath. How was she supposed to do this?

Fuck it. Yang thought, and called down to Blake. “Hey, um, do you think you can guide me like you did yesterday? Not really in the mood to break an arm or something falling from this tree.”

Blake nodded, “Just come sit on the edge of the branch closest to the tree trunk.”

Yang did as she was told, “Ok first get your feet on those foot holds a little below you…. Now grab onto that tree hollow with your left hand, it's pretty sturdy so you can lower yourself down with it.”

Yang was about two thirds of the way down, Blake still giving her instruction, when her foot slipped off the next hold, the morning dew making the wood slick. 

Yang let out a shriek as she fell from the tree a second time.

Instead of landing on the forest floor like Yang expected, something broke her fall. Something that was now groaning in pain beneath her.

“....Ow.” Blake said. “You're heavier than you look.” Yang thought she heard a small smile in the other girls voice, but couldn't be sure.

Yang laughed and started to get up off the other girl. “Well thanks anyway for breaking my fall, like I said I don't want any broken bo-” Yang cut herself off in shock. When she turned back around, it seemed that Blakes mask had gotten knocked off her face when Yang landed on her. Blake wasn't facing her fully, so Yang could only see her side profile. It was still kind of dark outside but Yang's breath still caught in her throat. She was… beautiful. 

Blake seemed to pick up on her silence, a slow realization coming over her face before she whipped herself away from Yang and slapped a hand over her eyes. 

“D-don’t look,” Her voice was wobbly and quiet, “....please.” 

Yang looked at Blakes trembling figure. She seemed to shrink into herself on the forest floor. It made Yang's heart ache. She looked around, finding the girls mask a few feet away.

Picking up the mask, Yang made her way back to Blake, who was still facing away from her. This close Yang could hear her breathing heavily, as if she was trying to calm herself down. 

“Hey…” Yang said softly, and reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, only to have it immediately smacked away.

“Don't touch me.” Blake growled, her voice doing a complete one-eighty from the last time she spoke. She shuffled several feet away from Yang, her hand still covering her face. 

“Ok, ok, I'm sorry. I won't touch you.” Yang kept her voice at a low volume. “Just… reach your hand out, I have your mask.”

There was a tense couple of seconds before Blake slowly reached out a hand. Yang could see that it was shaking.

As gently as she could, Yang placed the mask into the girl's open palm, only to have it ripped away as the other girl frantically put it back over her eyes. Once Blake had the mask back on, she stayed sitting on the forest floor, head in her hands, taking deep breaths. 

Yang didn't know what to do with herself so she backed away from the girl to…. to go study that tree over there! Yes, that very interesting tree over that way. 

After a few minutes of studying the bark on the tree, Yang heard Blake get up to her feet, and, as if nothing had happened, said, “Come on this way, we shouldn't stay in one spot of very long.”

Yang, who had no idea how to respond to.. any of that, just nodded.

“Lead the way.”

_____________

Stupid. Blake chided herself about the way she reacted earlier. Stupid, stupid. 

They’ve been walking through the jungle in silence for about an hour now. The sun making its way fully in the sky. 

Blake was grateful that the other girl didn’t bring up what happened with her mask earlier. Blake herself couldn't even explain it. As a guardian, Blake was supposed to wear her mask when facing enemies or threats so as to not reveal herself, but… Yang wasn't a threat was she? So why couldn't she bring herself to take it off? Blake wasn't sure. Maybe it was because the forest hadn’t done anything to acknowledge the other girl's presents yet. If the forest trusted her, then Blake would too, but the forest had been strangely quiet about the matter. Maybe it was waiting for Blake to make a decision first. 

Or maybe she didn't want to take her mask off because the last person who saw her without it was Adam. Blake bit her lip and shook her head, refusing to let her brain go down that path. 

Blake glanced at Yang who was following behind her. She was keeping up her pace surprisingly, even if it was a bit clumsy. She still made a lot of noise as she walked. 

Every once and awhile, Yang's hair would get stuck on a branch or a vine, yanking her back with a pained grunt. Blake tilted her head curiously. 

_____________

“Why is your hair not pinned back?”

Yang jumped, she hadn’t expected Blake to talk to her, not after what happened this morning. Yang looked up from the ground and to the other girls face. 

“It keeps getting caught on things, it's slowing you down.”

“Oh, uh, I don’t have a hair tie.” Yang said plainly. 

Yang tensed when Blake was suddenly right next to her, examining her hair, running her hands very lightly through it. Yang felt her cheeks warm. That wasn't the worst feeling.

“Um.” Yang's voice was tight due to the proximity of the other girl.

Blake removed her hands and nodded determinedly. “I will braid it tonight.” It was a statement more than it was a question. She started to walk away, but stopped to look at Yang again, as if remembering her manners, and asked, “If.. you want, that is.”

“Yea! Yea, sure, I don't mind.” Yang's voice was a little too loud. She was definitely still blushing. 

Blake nodded again, searching her face, they were only still about 2 feet from each other. It made Yang blush harder. Then, Blake swiveled on her heel and continued through the jungle ahead of her. 

Yang cleared her throat and scrambled for her water bottle. 

After giving herself a few minutes to compose herself, Yang spoke up again. “Do you braid your own hair?”

Blake glanced at her, “Yes. I learned when I was very young.”

“It looks nice, who taught you?”

“My… mother taught me.”

“Awe, that's sweet, what's she like?”

“She..” Blake's voice was soft, “She is very kind.” Yang couldn't tell if Blake was sad or happy when she said it.  

“Does she know you're out here with me? Wouldn't want you to get in trouble or anything,” Yang laughed. 

“No, she doesn’t.” 

Yang was about to ask why not, but walked right into Blakes back before she could, giving a quiet “oof.” 

“Hey wha-”

Blake put her hand up to silence the other girl. The ears on her head were perked up and moving around quickly. 

Yang looked around too, suddenly feeling very uneasy. She looked back to Blake who was still looking out in front of them. 

Yang saw Blakes left ear turn first, then her whole head followed. Masked eyes staring at the bushes to their left. 

Her voice was barely above a whisper, “Behind me. Now.” 

Yang didn't need to be told twice, getting behind the other girl and backing up until her back hit a tree. Her heart was pounding. In front of her, Blake had taken the spear off her back and now had it off to her side. Her body was shifted defensively in front of her, but Yang noticed that she didn't have her spear out in front of her aggressively. 

A minute passed, and Yang was about to speak up to ask what the hell was happening, before she heard the bushes in front of them rustle. 

Yang's heart leapt into her throat when a pitch black panther slinked out of the bushes and in front of Blake. Its yellow eyes glancing at Blake before locking its gaze onto Yang. A small whimper made its way out of her throat.

Blake did not raise her weapon, but moved more in front of Yang, passively blocking the panthers way. 

“She's not here to hurt us, she just needs to get home and I'm taking her there, I promise.” 

The panther was looking at Blake in the eyes, like it could understand what she was saying. Yang's heart hadn't slowed down. They held their gaze for much longer than Yang expected, even though it was probably only about 20 seconds. 

Then, like an unspoken exchange had happened between the two, she saw Blakes back muscles relax a fraction and the panther gently nudged her out of the way with its big head and made its way towards Yang, who was still backed up against the tree.

“Uh, B-Blake,” Yang whispered, not daring to move a muscle, “get it to stop please.”

Blakes face looked worried under her mask, “I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can't, it's coming right for me!”

“The forest is testing you, I cannot interfere.”

“Testing me?! What does that even-” Yang cut herself off. The panther was only about 4 feet away now. Like Yang, it’s body was tense, like it was ready to pounce or sprint away at a moment's notice. 

Yang didn't know what to do. Her heart was about to beat out of her chest. I'm going to die. 

A memory flashed through Yang's head:

“My family and I respect the forest wholly and unwavering, so the forest does the same for us. We protect the forest and in return the forest does not treat us as hostile, and all its animals know that too.”

Slowly, she slid down the tree until she was sitting on the ground, knees pulled up against her chest. Keeping her eyes locked with the panthers, she reached out with a hand, but pulled back slightly when it gave a warning growl, showing its teeth.

Yang took a shaky breath. She either had a worse concussion than she thought, or she was just straight up stupid. 

“It's ok,” Yang whispered, “It's ok.” She wasn't sure if she was reassuring herself or the panther. 

This was it, Yang realized, this was a moment of truth. Blake said this was the forest's way of testing her. So she either had to trust Blakes words from the night before or she would most likely die.

Yang closed her eyes and reached her hand out again and waited. Her breathing was still erratic and her heart was still ponding. But she had to trust Blake, trust the forest. Yang knew it was the only way. She heard the panther slowly come closer but Yang didn't dare open her eyes. Trust and respect. That's all the forest wanted from her. 

Yang gasped when the panther slowly pushed its head against Yang's palm. When she didn't open her eyes, the panther gave an encouraging mewl.

She cracked her eyes open, making eye contact with the panther again. It wasn't doing anything, just looking at her curiously. Yang glanced up at Blake who hadn't moved from her spot. She looked less worried than before.

Her heart rate was evening out slightly as she took deep breaths. She looked back at the big black animal in front of her as it sat down, and started to move her hand over the panther's head, petting it. 

She still had no idea what she was doing, but at least the panther didn’t seem upset. 

They sat there for what only was a few minutes, with her petting its big head, but to Yang, it felt like hours. It wasn’t until Yang's heart rate and breathing went back to normal that the panther got back up. It moved closer to gently nudge its forehead against Yangs chest, pushing her back into the tree a bit, before pulling away. 

The panther looked back at Blake and they held eye contact once again. Blake tilted her head slightly, as if to ask a question. Yang saw the panther blink slowly in response. 

And just like that, the panther turned and disappeared in the thick jungle once more. 

“Um.” Yang said, very overwhelmed. “What the fuck just happened?” 

Blake was still looking where the panther disappeared, she seemed deep in thought. When she looked back at Yang her features were intense, but somehow less guarded.

“You passed.” 

[spideywars]

PROMPT- (please) ANYTHING with soulmates, either names of wrist or just anything gaaah

This is probably gonna hurt some peoples hearts and I’m sorry in advance but angst is just so good to write. 

~~~~~~

“But I don’t want you.” Harry’s voice was a low growl, like a rumble through his chest and it sent shockwaves through the floor and towards Niall’s body. It was painful, like a gunshot or falling off a ten story building. Niall was crushed.

“Harry…we’re soulmates, I-I can’t do anything about it I’m sorry.” The tears were burning in Niall’s eyes and he tried to keep it all in, build the wall up to maybe stop himself before Harry thought of him as more of a pathetic person. It was getting too much though, the look of disgust on Harry’s face, the rejection.

“Maybe if you just stayed away from me this wouldn’t have happened. God, what am I going to tell Kendall?” Harry was gripping his hair tightly, staring outside of his dorm window that looked down into the campus courtyard. It was dark out, after hours, since that was the only time Harry would let them meet.

Harry was a cheater, someone who likes to sneak around the shadows behind his lovers back because he can’t get enough love. He wanted both, he wanted a woman to squeeze and protect but he wanted a man to be rough with and grab at his darkest fantasies. So that’s where Niall came in, four months of fooling around and thinking it didn’t mean anything, or more, Harry thinking it didn’t mean anything while Niall was slowly drowning in his own love.

It was seen as nothing at first, it really was. But Harry had him spread out on his own bed almost every night and apparently the feelings between them were so strong the world stopped turning thinking they were perfect together. 

People find their soulmates by the change in their body, it’s a connection that happens immediately or slowly, where both lovers feel the anchors they were attached to get cut and then retied onto each other, tingles all over your body, pupils blown wide, and everything feeling like you’re on cloud nine. 

Niall would know of course, because during sex tonight with Harry that’s what they felt, for the first time in their lives everything wrapped around the two of them and created the rope connecting each other.

Everything was supposed to mean something now, but instead Niall’s life was crashing and burning around him and Harry was the flames tearing it all apart.

“I-I am really sorry Harry.” That’s all he could say, still coming down from the high of the orgasmic feeling of finding his soulmate. Harry was still calming down too, the way his chest was heaving up and down fast, still bare-chested with his jeans buttoned down. He looked good, fucking amazing, like a god with the moonlight shining along the sweat and clear skin.

“Get out.” Harry growled out, still not looking at Niall with his eyes locked on the window. It was the last straw before Niall was crying, the damns breaking and the tears streaming fast and hard down his flushed cheeks. He got up on shaky legs, shaky hands coming up to grab for his own t-shirt and pants before Niall was rushing out of the room. 

He was sobbing so hard he had to lean against the hallway wall for support, trying to smother his cries with his fist in his mouth but nothing was helping. His soul was supposed to be lifted and his life changing before his eyes, his future actually meaning something. Instead it was crushed by the hands of the person he was supposed to love.

What was he going to do now? Was he expected to just move on with his life while his soulmate walks free on this earth not loving him?

It was an unbearable pain, and Niall barely made it to his dorm room before he crumbled to his knees and had to lean against the door once he was safe and secure in his own room.

It was a larger pain now, and soon it wasn’t just a mental kind, it was the kind that Niall forgot about learning in school where if soulmates leave each other too soon from their bond it will hurt them. It was the kind of pain that made his chest burn and heart feel squeezed too tight. Niall was crying harder, because he knew he couldn’t just go back, Harry didn’t want him. 

But there was a knock on the door, a frantic one with four quick taps. Niall flinched and then listened, hearing the heavy breathing as if someone was fighting for their life muffled from the door. 

He didn’t want to open it, knowing it was Harry. The pain of seeing that same disgusted look and the way Harry’s eyes stared at him as if he ruined his life. 

“Niall, please open the door…open the door.” Harry was desperate, still breathing and almost sounding like he was about to pass out. 

It was strange, how Niall’s body just went on autopilot and everything moved before his mind could catch up. He opened the door, and just as his thoughts collected themselves Harry was barreling into him, lifting him up and hugging him as tightly as possible as they plummeted onto the bed. 

They just stayed like that, holding each other, feeling the way their pain seeped and drained from their bodies at their touch. Their breathing evened out, their chests loosened up, and brains rebooted. 

“I’m sorry.” Niall whispered, he was a broken record, voice muffled with his face buried in Harry’s shoulder, smelling the musky scent of sweat and cologne. 

“Don’t say anything just…don’t speak.” That’s what Harry answered with, harsh words that jabbed at Niall like a knife once again. But Niall stayed quiet, clamped his mouth shut and instead dug his nails into the flesh of Harry’s sides from where he had wrinkled up his shirt in their bone-crushing hug. 

There was a lot of words to say, but it was okay right now. Sure Harry might leave him after everything settles down, will go back to Kendall acting as if nothing ever happened, treat Niall like dirt once again. But for now, Niall could pretend they were soulmates that actually loved each other and be in his own little world where everything was perfect. 

[gokailyger84]

Ninja Brian (in universe) collectively attempting over and over to confess his gay, gay crush but ends up becoming nervous and kills the nearest person around them.

Sometimes, I wonder how my brain works when it comes to filling these prompts

Danny frowned, tilting his head in confusion.  He watched as the hands of the figure before him, moved at lightening speed.  

So fast, Danny’s eyes could barely keep up.  The hands forming half-sentences and a lot of gibberish.  

Nin/ja Brian was acting strange.  

Still.

“Whoa, whoa whoa, Nin/ja Brian.”  Danny interrupted, holding up his hands.

He waited for his friend to calm down and lower his hands.  

Danny crossed his arms and tilted his hand.

“Now, what is it you’re trying to tell me?”

Nin/ja Brian took a deep breath and raised his hands.

“I’m just trying to say…what I mean to say is…that I, that I…I mean…We’ve know each other for so and you saved me…sometimes I…etrtfgyhujikl;xfcvgjkml-”

“GAAAH!!!”  A voice cried out.

Nin/ja Brian looked over to see his hand, suddenly holding a knife, plunged in the chest of a man.  Nin/ja Brian and Danny stared at the man who was looking down at his chest in shock.  

Several seconds passed, before Nin/ja Brian pulled the knife out and the man crumbled to the ground.  

Danny watched the entire scene with mild interest.  His eyes met Nin/ja Brian’s who blushed and vanished in a poof of smoke.  

Danny just shook his head, as he formed some quick hand signals, causing the body to vanish.  

This was starting to become an annoying trend that Danny couldn’t understand.  

For several weeks now, Nin/ja Brian had been trying to tell him something but couldn’t get it out.  Instead he’d either descend into gibberish or kill some random person.  

Sometimes, like just now, he’d do both and he’d become embarrassed and vanish.  

Danny wouldn’t see or hear from him for a couple of days before he’d return and they’d start the whole routine over.  

The first few times were amusing, but after weeks of this odd behavior, Danny was reaching his wits end.  

Sure, it was funny when Nin/ja Brian stabbed that clown, when they were walking through the park eating ice cream and when he stabbed that guy who just happened to be harassing that pretty girl at the dance club.  

But the waiter at the restaurant they went to and the guy laughing a little too loudly at the movies and those teens late night swimming, when they were sitting together at the beach.  

It was getting to be too much.  

Every time they would go out together, Nin/ja Brian would try to tell him something but he would always get a nervous twitch.  

A stabbing twitch.  

Which was unfortunate for anyone near them.  

Danny didn’t know what to make of it.  He wished they could go out and spend time together without this odd addition.  

But Nin/ja Brian seemed determined to try and tell Danny, whatever it was he wanted to tell him.  And honestly Danny was curious.  

What did his best friend want to tell him, that had him behaving so strangely?  

Danny actually had an idea.  He wasn’t as oblivious as most people thought.  

But he still wasn’t sure, because this was Nin/ja Brian.  

A deadly emotionless nin/ja.  

Right?

He couldn’t possibly…could he?  

Danny decided to let his imagination stretch.  Entertain the possibility.  He started with himself.  

How did he feel about the Nin/ja Brian?  

Danny thought about his unique personality.  His murderous but also gentle nature.  His incomparable musical talent.  

His rare soft smiles.  

His cute blushes that were becoming quite frequent.  

His beautiful blue eyes…  

Huh?  

Looked like Danny was learning something new about himself.  Funny, he wasn’t feeling panicky or ashamed of himself.

He let his mind dwell on the revealing thoughts, while sitting in the living room on the couch.  

Two days had passed since Nin/ja Brian disappeared.  He should be showing up soon and suggesting they go out somewhere.    

As if on cue, Danny heard a ‘poof’ sound coming from the kitchen.  

Danny listened as Nin/ja Brian opened the refrigerator.  Probably getting some of the leftovers, Danny had left him.  He tended not to eat while he was gone.  

Danny kept his attention tuned to the sounds from the kitchen, as the nin/ja ate his meal.  

Danny patiently waited.  He didn’t have to wait long.  

Nin/ja Brian walked into the living room and took a seat on the couch.  

Danny remained silent, watching as Nin/ja Brian’s hands predictably came up and apologized for his behavior and asked Danny if he wanted to go out tomorrow night.  

Danny continued to stare at his partner.  

He couldn’t believe how predictable Nin/ja Brian had become.  

Well, it was past time to break the monotonous routine.  

“No, Brian.  I don’t think so.”  

Nin/ja Brian stared at Danny wide-eyed.  Danny had just refused to go out.  

But, why?  

He always said yes.  

Nin/ja Brian could feel himself begin to panic.  He thought he was doing it right.  

He’d ask Danny out, they’d have a good time together and then he’d confess his feelings.  

At least, that’s how it was supposed to go.  

Nin/ja Brian looked down.  Everything would go perfect, until it was time for his confession.  He’d always get “tongue tied” and nervous.  

Somehow, he’d end up killing someone too.  

It was already embarrassing that he couldn’t get his words out but to lose control of his body and randomly stab a person was ridiculous.  

Not to mention, he’d always run off.  Needing time to recollect himself before coming back to try again.  

It looked like Danny had had enough.  

Nin/ja Brian’s hands clenched in the fabric of his pants.  He had fucked up.  

Now, Danny didn’t even want to be around him anymore.  

Much less return his feelings.  

Nin/ja Brian stood up.

“I’m sorry.  I won’t bother you again.”  He signed, turning away.  

As he headed towards the hall, intending to lock himself in his room, he felt his arm grabbed, stopping him in his tracks.  

Nin/ja Brian looked down at the hand gripping his wrist tightly.  His eyes trailed up the arm, over the chest and met Danny’s hardened gaze.  

“That’s not what I meant, Brian.”  Danny said, his voice gentle, contrasting greatly with his stern expression.  

“I want to know what’s going on.  Tell me right now, what it is you are obviously so desperate to say.”  Danny tightened his hold.  

“And don’t pussy out on me.”  

Nin/ja Brian continued to stare at Danny.  He’d never seen him so serious before.  

It was kind of scary.  

The nin/ja felt a sudden urge to teleport away but with Danny’s hold on him, he’d end up coming along.  

“Brian, please.”  

Danny pulled Nin/ja Brian towards him.  His other hand raising, gently caressing his cloth covered cheek.  

“Talk to me, Bri.”  

Nin/ja Brian let out a sigh.  He didn’t think he could get it out.  

He leaned into Danny’s hand, taking comfort in the touch.  

He wanted to feel those hands on his skin.  Touching him. Gently.  Softly.  

He wanted Danny to feel the same.  

But it was unlikely.  Danny was straight.  

He was afraid that Danny would reject him.  Hate him.  Make him leave.  

He didn’t think Danny would actually react that way but the mind was tricky thing. 

Nin/ja Brian wanted to tell him.  Had tried to tell him.  

Ultimately his fear won out and he couldn’t do it.  

But looking into those warm brown eyes.  Maybe he could.  

Danny didn’t have to return his feelings.  They could still be friends and that would be enough for him.  

It was just the feelings he had, where threatening to consume him.  He needed to get them out. 

Nin/ja Brian pulled back from Danny.  He noticed Danny still kept hold of his wrist. 

That was fine. 

He wasn’t going to go anywhere.  

Danny watched as Nin/ja Brian reached up and pulled his mask off.  His eyes widened slightly. 

Danny could tell that this time, he wasn’t going to run away.  Danny released Nin/ja Brian’s wrist. 

He gasped slightly, when the nin/ja’s hands were suddenly on his face, gently pulling him down.

Nin/ja Brian pressed their foreheads together.  Danny felt a spark shoot through him. 

Nin/ja Brian was…wait. 

What was he doing?  

“Close your eyes.”  

A low voice said in Danny’s mind, startling him.

That sounded like Nin/ja Brian’s voice.  Before he had lost it.  

Danny felt a sting of guilt.  That had been his fault.  

Shaking his head mentally, Danny pushed the thoughts away and did as he was told.  

He was looking down at a keyboard.  Hands flying across them, with expert ease.  

He looked up and saw himself, dancing and singing.  His hair flying around his head, as he belted out the lyrics to ‘Road Trip’.  

For a moment, Danny was confused.  

Why was he watching himself?    

Danny then could feel an almost overwhelming sense of pride as he watched himself.  

He then immediately understood.  

Nin/ja Brian was sharing his memories with him.  He had linked their minds together.  

Danny didn’t even know he could do that.  

He blinked and he saw himself standing in front of a stove.  

Danny remembered this.  He had attempted to fix a meal.  Danny watched as his memory self turned, smoke coming up from the skillet, and his hand behind his head, smiling sheepishly.  

Danny could feel his cheeks, no, Nin/ja Brian’s cheeks warming.  

The scene changed again.  

Danny watched as he flirted with a group of ladies and choked in surprise feeling the intense hot rage.  

The scene changed quickly, leaving Danny quite unsettled.  

He was now standing in front of himself.  Nin/ja Brian’s arms flying as he tried to sign what he had been struggling to say for so long.  

He watched amused, as memory Danny’s eyes widened, seeing the clown get suddenly stabbed.  

He could feel a growing sense of failure and self-hatred rising as he vanished, appearing deep in a forest.

Another scene change and Danny saw himself passed out on the couch.  A bit of drool at the corner of his lips.  

Danny watched as a black clothed covered hand, reach forward and ran it’s fingers through his curls.  

Danny felt his chest tightening.  

He knew that feeling.  Even if he had only felt it a few times in his life.  

It was now clear.

Nin/ja Brian was in love with him.

Then a sudden change and Danny saw himself, redfaced and yelling terrible, hurtful things.  Taking Nin/ja Brian’s keyboard and throwing it into the wall, breaking it and storming off.  

He could hear the front door slamming shut.

Despair and sorrow engulfed his entire being.

Nin/ja Brian suddenly pulled away, releasing Danny and severing the link.  Danny held back a wince, at the sudden, jarring disconnect.  

He opened his eyes.  

Nin/ja Brian was looking down at the floor.  His eyebrows furrowed with…was that fear.  Danny understood.  

Nin/ja Brian was afraid he was going to lose him because of his feelings.

“Brian.”  Danny said softly.  He smiled sadly, seeing the nin/ja stiffen.

Danny stepped closer and pulled Nin/ja Brian into his arms, resulting in a surprised gasp.

“I’m not going to leave you, Bri.  Even if I didn’t return your feelings, I would never leave.  I could never be angry at you for how you feel.”

Lifting his hand, Danny gently tilted Nin/ja Brian’s head up, meeting his eyes.  

“You mean too much to me.”  

Danny then leaned forward, Nin/ja Brian’s eyes widened, as Danny’s lips covered his own.  

Nin/ja Brian’s body froze.  Stunned with shock.  

Danny pulled away, chuckling awkwardly.  His eyes looking off to the side.  

“I’m sorry.”  

Nin/ja Brian continued to stare.  His mind still processing what happened.  Danny begin to move away.

“I shouldn’t have done that.  Just like me to be so impulsive.”  

Nin/ja Brian grabbed both of Danny’s arms, stopping his movement.  He pushed himself upwards, roughly pressing his lips to Danny’s.  

Danny grunted in surprise before letting his eyes slide shut and pressing back just as hard.  

Danny felt the spark return.  

Love and happiness filled his mind.  

Nin/ja Brian’s feelings.  

Danny wrapped his arms around his partner’s body, squeezing them closer together.  

“I love you.” 

Nin/ja Brian’s voice echoed in his mind.  

Danny smiled, deepening the kiss.  Nin/ja Brian finally said it.  What he had been trying to say for so long.  

Danny let his own feeling flow through their link.  Swirling and mixing with Nin/ja Brian’s.  

“I love you too.”                                                                                                       

[ruiningvoldemortday]

Cos Chapter 17: The Heir of Slytherin

- Even the lighting here is greenish.  THIS IS SLYTHERIN GUYS CAN YOU TELL EVERYTHING IS GREEN AND SNAKES. - Jo’s descriptions are delightfully creepy thought - I find it interesting that Riddle calls himself a memory instead of a fragment of soul - Harry this guy is bad stop acting like he’s your friend you idiot grab Ginny and run why does it take so long for you to realize this oh my god - “There was something very funny going on here…”  NO SHIT. - This bit about Ginny comes off as an early 2000-s warning against Internet friendships and not trusting anyone you can’t see.  But apparently Jo didn’t mean it that way which I find weird. - “I’ve always been able to charm the people I needed”  So even in his own words Voldemort is a sociopath.  Charming, manipulative, remorseless…. - I mean we all knew that because of his inability to understand love but still.  I find it interesting that he basically admits it. - Poor kid’s eleven years old and losing time and has no control over her own body and her mind is being violated and gaaah this poor kid, it’s a wonder she ends up well-adjusted - “I thought you made a mistake” Harry you really are as dumb as a brick sometimes - YOU CAN’T RAISE WEREWOLF CUBS UNDER YOUR BED WEREWOLF CUBS ARE JUST HUMAN CHILDREN EXCEPT FOR ONE NIGHT A MONTH AARGH. - Seriously this is like the sixth time werewolves have been mentioned as being animals.  Did Jo not decide yet that she wanted them to be sapient?  Is Tom just exaggerating for the sake of being colorful about Hagrid’s monster fixation?  Am I hopping on the I <3 REMUS LUPIN train way too early? - Voldemort monologues way too damn much.  He does it every time we see him. - “reserving my sixteen-year-old self in its pages”  a Horcrux at sixteen is both impressive and horrifying - The different translations of Voldemort’s real name for the sake of this anagram amuse me greatly. - What kind of humungous toolbag demands his “intimate friends” refer to him as lord? - I read “greatest sorcerer in the world” in Jafar’s voice every single time - Have a deus ex machina, Harry - Does Riddle just not know about a phoenix’s powers or is he trying to psych Harry out by laughing at him?  Because having a phoenix on your side is no joke. - Harry tripping and falling on his face is the cherry on top of the “you are so fucked” sundae that is this entire climax.  Without his wand Harry has basically no chance without Fawkes’s intervention.  It’s a deus ex machina like nothing I’ve ever seen but it works - I’ve never understood why “you can still smell him” is changed to “it can still hear you” in the movie - Stabbing the basilisk in the brain is metal as shit and also probably takes an impressive amount of upper body strenght - How convenient that Riddle forgot phoenix tears have healing powers.  And also that birds apparently have tear ducts now?  I’m pretty sure that’s not a thing.  Oh, fuck it, magic. - My mental image is Harry looking Riddle dead in the eyes while stabbing the diary and I love it so much - One Horcrux down, six to go! - GINNY BABY :C - I know it’s not in the book (thankfully) but I just want to say that the climactic scene in the movie ends with possibly the worst line ever written.  “It’s just a memory.”  UGH. - I love the detail of Fawkes’s feathers being strangely hot - Myrtle fancying Harry is creepy as all hell and it’s only going to get worse