#wars and mask are my weakness

[arecaceae175]

The results are in…

“Nope. No way that’s real. You just want me to lick a frog,” Warriors said.

“It’s purely for research purposes, I assure you,” Flora said.

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s completely safe! Tell him, Link,” Flora said.

Wild bit back a smile. “It’s true. She made me do it.”

“You actually ate the frog?” Four asked, curling his lip in disgust. Wild shrugged.

“I’ll do it!” Wind said. He reached out a hand for the frog. Warriors nearly tackled him.

“No! No one is eating frogs!” Warriors yelled, one arm wrapped around a squirming Wind.

“Where’s your courage, oh mighty captain?” Legend teased, elbowing Warriors in the side.

“I’m not eating a frog,” Warriors repeated.

“It’s for science!” Flora said.

“Science, Wars. Are you afraid of the frog?” Legend asked.

“Yes! I’m very afraid of eating the frog! I have a delicate digestive system!” Warriors argued. “I don’t see you eating the frog.”

“She didn’t ask me,” Legend said, crossing his arms with a smirk.

There was a slurping noise from behind Warriors. He froze, then very slowly turned around. Flora’s hands were empty and a huge grin was plastered on her face. Her notebook and pen were at the ready. Time was standing next to her.

“Flora,” Warriors said. “Where is the frog.”

Time smirked. “I’m curious.”

[b3dh3d]

To all the starwars fans....

Suffer lmao

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

After all these years, Obi-Wan is still giving ground.

[steelhazes]

I CAN'T SEE THIS PHRASE THE SAME WAY ANYMORE I HATE IT

[holylulusworld]

Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (1)

Summary: Your marriage starts rocky.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Wife!Reader

Warnings: angst, injured reader (light), mentions of getting robbed, angry Sherlock, implied innocent reader

A/N: A collection of drabbles on how you became Mrs. Sherlock Holmes.

Mrs. Sherlock Holmes masterlist

“Where is my brother? We need to talk about Enola and the upcoming event. She needs to make her debut…” you hear Mycroft downstairs. He’s usually a stoic and silent man, but you kinda like he’s silent and leaves you alone most of the time. “Where is the lady of the house? Maybe she can help my sister correct her behavior."

You hear his voice grow louder as Sherlock’s head housekeeper raises her voice. She always acts more like the lady of the house than a servant.

“Mr. Holmes,” you gracefully walk down the stairs, putting on a strained smile hurting your bruised face. “I’m afraid my husband is not at home. He’s solving another case.”

“Again?” Mycroft holds out his hands. He presses a quick kiss to your offered hand. “He should’ve left his lovely wife all alone so short after your wedding.”

“Sir, it’s fine,” you flutter your eyes shut as you try to keep the wrong words from spilling from your lips. It all became too much lately.

Sherlock's absence, and his displeasure in participating in your marriage. The head housekeeper acting like you are not Sherlock’s wife but a peasant.

“My dear, what happened?” Mycroft gasps when his eyes finally see your swollen left cheek and your split lip. “Please tell me my brother didn’t raise his hand on you. If he did, I’ll make sure he’ll regret putting his hands on you.”

“It wasn’t my husband,” you reach out for Mycroft and grab his hand. “He’s a little distant and mostly interested in solving cases but…he would never. I swear, Sir. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have gone to town on my own. But Mrs. Demeter refused to send for a carriage.”

“What happened, my dear,” Mycroft worriedly asks. He offers his arm to you, and wonders if you are lying to protect his brother. “Please do not fret. Tell me everything.”

“I left the house to get the books Sherlock wanted,” you sniff. “I paid for the books and carried the books out of the store. A woman ran into me, and I dropped the books. I tried to pick them up and then…” You choke out a sob. “There was a masked man. He ripped my bag out of my hands and hit me with it.”

“My dear!” Mycroft gasps audibly. “Did you tell my brother about this?”

“He wasn’t home,” you drop your gaze, ashamed about your weakness, and inability to stand up for yourself. “The owner of the bookstore helped me pick up the books and accompanied me to Scotland Yard but…they didn’t want to listen to me.”

“Did you tell them your name?” Mycroft is furious. “How dare they ignore a young lady in need.” He huffs as you tell him repeatedly it was your fault for not telling them your name. “Stop blaming yourself, my dear. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s my brother’s for ignoring his wife.”

Downstairs it sounds like a war is going on. Sherlock and Mycroft yell at each other. And you are afraid, Mycroft is winning.

Your betrothed falls silent after a while, and you hold your breath as you repeatedly hear your name. The last thing you wanted was to cause a rift between the brothers.

They already have their hands full with their younger sibling. Now you are causing trouble too.

You wring your hands while hearing footsteps on the staircase. You hold your breath and step away from the door. “Wife,” Sherlock grumbles as he opens the door. “Where are you?”

“I’m here,” your voice cracks. “Sir.” You add, in the hope of appeasing your husband. He steps inside your room, eyes roaming your body. “Please accept my apology.”

“What for, Precious?” He steps closer to cup your face with both hands. “Why didn’t you send for me? I would’ve come here to take care of my wife.”

“I didn’t want to disturb you, Sir. It’s nothing,” you close your eyes when his gaze gets too intense.

“You got hurt. This is not nothing,” he raises his voice but gets a grip seconds later. “No one touches my wife.” His lips press against your swollen cheek, but you only feel the warmth of his soft pillows, not the slight pain. “I will call for Lestrade. We will find the man hurting you.”

“I think he worked with the woman running into me,” you explain while Sherlock inspects your injuries. “She distracted me long enough for the man to steal my bag.”

“Why did he hurt you?”

“I-I didn’t want to give the bag to the man. You gifted it to me,” you shyly batt your eyelashes as Sherlock angrily furrows his brows.

“You are fearless, my dear,” he cracks a smile. “I am sorry about my absence. After our wedding, we should’ve…” He clears his throat. “I'll send for a doctor.”

“She’s well then?” Sherlock sizes the doctor up. “I need to know every detail. Please don’t shelter me.”

“Her cheek is swollen, but the cut on her lips is already healing. She’s mostly frightened of the person attacking her,” the doctor says. “I’d suggest not leaving her alone for the time being.”

“Sir, what are you doing?” You almost screamed when Sherlock entered your room. He softly whispered your name and picked you up in bridal style to carry you toward his bedroom.

“I’m bringing my wife to my bedroom,” he carried you out of the room. His chest swelled when you rested your head on his chest.

"Sir, I think...you have a case and..." you whimper. If he wants to finally have your wedding night, you are not sure you are ready to be with him.

“I shouldn’t have taken case after case. We didn’t have the chance to get to know each other better. I know this was an arranged bond my mother and your father agreed to. But I…I want you to know that I’ll protect you from now on.”

>> Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[azsazz]

Hide (Part 2)

Eris x Rhysands!Sister Reader

Summary: Anon Req: Literally in love with every fic you write. I know your requests are closed but in the future, could you write something where Eris and the reader see each other and there’s a lot of tension and they’re secretly mates but no one knows? I’m curious to see how you’d end it!

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 1,428

[Part One]

Notes: Obsessing over this one.

_________________________________________

You swallow harshly at your brother’s question, eyes darting over to catalogue your mate. You try not to startle in your seat when a wall of harsh autumn winds slams between your bond. He’s only protecting you; you must remind yourself. There’s a fine tremble to your hands, so you clench them together in your lap. 

Azriel notes the move, your restlessness as Rhysand stares down your mate like these are his last moments on this plane of existence. You have no idea what Rhysand’s going to do to Eris, but with the thick darkness rolling from his shoulders and slowly filling the room, whatever it might be will not be good.

You cannot let that happen. 

“Rhysand—"

Your brother holds up a hand, his glare swinging towards you. The thin line of betrayal ringing his eyes makes your stomach roil. You hadn’t meant to break his trust and you never intended on keeping secrets from him, but with the courts on the edge of war…

“Do. Not. Speak.” Rhysand’s demand is a death knell of its own. When you were young, you remember how he’d always been the one to listen to any of your problems, even when they felt silly. He would always offer you a solution if you were looking for one, or a piece of cake if you only wanted to wallow in your feelings. 

The smell of burning wood answers his harsh words. 

Cassian shifts in his seat, eyeing Eris. He leans further back in his chair and places his hand on the table, the wicked curve of the short blade clutched firmly in his hand pointing directly at your mate.

Your bond flares, eyes going hard at the sight of the threat to your mate. You’re ready to jump out of your seat, scramble across the table to tackle the male, no matter how much you consider him family. You know all of Cassian’s weak spots, and your gaze is calculating as you decide which maneuver will draw him away from your mate.

The single look Eris sends you keeps you from reacting. 

Instead, you settle back in your seat, showing Eris your unfaltering trust for him. You will allow your mate to say his piece to your brother. You might be crossing your arms over your chest with a hard look all your own, but you will heed Eris’ silent ask of you.

Eris is a mask of nonchalance, and you wish he hadn’t blocked you from his feelings, but it’s better this way. He cannot have your reactions to your brother muddling his own feelings. It’s safer for the both of you to keep to yourself right now, no matter how much you hate the idea of being apart from him like this.

“I will ask you once more,” Rhysand’s voice is filled with smoke. “How long have you been putting your filthy fucking hands on my sister.”

Something flares in Eris’ russet eyes that makes you want to bite, to snarl at your brother for his cruelness. You gnaw the insides of your cheeks to keep from snapping. 

“Would hearing that answer please you, High Lord?” Eris snarks back. He sits easily in his seat as if this isn’t an interrogation at all, as if they’re all bantering over the weather and Rhysand isn’t looking at him like he’s about to unleash the beast within him that he keeps on a short chain. The only give to Eris’ temper are the burnt handprints on the armrests of the chair he’s lounging in. “To know that the fires of autumn light the stars of night?” 

You want to hiss at him for his words. You should’ve known better that Eris would do nothing but taunt your brother. He is nowhere near as powerful as Rhys, especially since he is still under the rule of his father, but his specialty is that mouth of his. 

You try not to think about how he uses that mouth when he’s with you, the yearning for him flooding your body so deeply you clench your thighs together. Another motion that Azriel tracks, cocking his head a little as he watches you with that unnervingly stoic face of his. You shoot him a pleading look but are unable to make out how he reads into your pleas not to hurt your mate.

Rhysand bares his teeth in warning. The flare of his nostrils and the stars winking out of his eyes tells you that he’s moments away from unleashing his wrath upon Eris.

“Two years,” you blurt and all gazes swing your way. You don’t look at anyone else except for Eris, your eyes soft and pleading. His eyes flicker back and forth between yours and his shoulders slump a little, cracking the steel trap blocking your bond to send down a cool rush of apology that you accept with a soft nod. “We’ve been mated for two years.” 

There’s a sharp exhale coming from your brother but you can’t look away from your mate. Two years since you offered him that dessert from your favorite bakery the one time you’d been able to sneak away from your brother and his friends to meet Eris at the portal where Night crossed into Autumn. 

Two years of fiery, passionate nights, hidden away in your own solace. Two years of a fresh breath of autumn, of copper hair and russet eyes and the warmest hands you’ve ever had the pleasure of touching. Two years of unyielding loyalty. Two years of too much time spent apart—

No more. You won’t have it. Rhysand can act as protective older brother as much as he wants but it isn’t going to stop you from being with Eris any longer.

Darkness of your own ekes out of you as you plant your hands on the smooth surface of the table and rise. You stare Rhysand down as the tendrils of black wind around his, Azriel, and Cassian’s wrists, pinning them to their spots. You are in no way matching Rhysand’s power, but he seems at a loss for words as you stand up for yourself, watching with those all too calculating feline eyes of his, allowing you your time.

Stalking around the table, you don’t break the High Lord’s gaze. You hold your chin high even if there’s a pinch of terror in your gut for this continued betrayal to your brother, to your court. But he has no idea what you’ve given up for this bond, how you’ve suffered being kept from your mate. 

One day, you hope Rhysand will understand. Will understand why you halt a step behind where your mate is still trapped to his chair. Why you place a hand on his shoulder, the feeling of him after so long filling your lungs to maximum capacity. You haven’t ben able to breathe fully since you’ve been away from each other. 

He’ll understand why it is that your actions look like you’re swearing fealty to another court, when you’ve already been a patron of autumn ever since you and Eris completed your mating bond. 

“What are you—“ Your brother breathes when he realizes the severity of what you’re doing.

“I will not be kept from my mate any longer.” Your words are loud and sure. You think you’ve done a good job at standing up to Rhysand, until his eyes flicker and the house shakes on its studs.

All of the air is sucked from the room at your words. The strip of skin you’re touching on Eris’ neck warms, but it does little to settle you. You’re not out of the clear yet.

Slowly, all too slowly, Rhysand leans back in his seat. The way he’s looking at you makes you shift in your spot, the disbelief and  in his eyes a bright streak before he snuffs it out, returning to the easy role of High Lord he’s practices meticulously for centuries. 

It hurts to see.

With a careless flick of his hand he breaks through your shadows with ease. All of the darkness in the room dissipates, ever faithful to their master. You only hold an ounce of power compared to him. 

The corner of his mouth curves, and if it’s a smirk or a snarl you don’t know, but neither is as harrowing as the words that slip past his lips. “I wonder which will get you killed faster—your loyalty or your love.” Rhysand stands, turning his back on you as he stalks towards the door. “Get out of my court.”

_________________________________________

Tagging those who commented if you don't want to be tagged on this just lmk <3 Some of you couldn't be tagged btw

Hide Taglist: @littlestw01f @aelin-thefirebreathingbitchqueen @naturakaashi @lexluvswriting @chybay22 @roseliey @acotar-thirst @teenagellamaangel @minaethrym @tothestarsandwhateverend @coolepowersthings @lena-davina @xyzmeh @meritxellao @shadowdaddysposts @callsigns-haze @mrs-azriel @eminvelaris @daily-does-of-sass @kennedy-brooke

[mehidktbh]

I've Got My Eye On You

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: After one incident of fainting while training. Your Lieutenant takes the role of keeping you fed and hydrated.

Warning: Swearing, war/military stuff, ED-related symptoms (??), fainting and passing out, guns, Ghost flirts with you... which includes pet names 👀 and training (punching/fighting)

A/N: Finally got my mac book working and fixed after waiting a whole 5 months, istg it's always Apple...

Taglist: @fatedeniedhope

You stand there watching the brutal nasty fight happen in front of your eyes, watching as two men go up against each other. The grunting can be heard amongst the cheering of other soldiers. Studying their tactics and every move as they attempt to knock the other person down, hands flying with forceful punches and hard kicks as one man finally gets pinned. Someone shouting next to you as he tries to motivate the fallen soldier to get up, his voice falls deaf to his ears as he taps out.

"Alright!" The two men head back to the line of soldiers who stand up proud and tall, listening to the yelling drill Sargent. "I want Y/N and Jet up front!" You snap out of your thoughts when someone pats your back, indicating for you to step up. Your vision is unsettled and you can feel the whole world spinning, you take your stand, knuckles clenched and legs tensed.

Staring directly at the man in front as he holds the same starting position. Through the split second, you hear the whistle blow as he begins to circle you slowly, his mind set on only beating you as he starts to wonder why you stand so weak. You continue to stumble around, trying to copy his feet as they overlap each other moving around you.

Your ears block out the yelling and the screams which your team urges you on. It all becomes too much when your drill Sargent spits his voice at you, forcing you to get in there more. But it falls deaf to your ears, the underwhelming pressure and heat are all too much, you watch in confusion as the guy across you looks at you with concern. But there's nothing to say as you stumble over, tripping over your godman leg before you plough straight into the ground. There's not much to see or hear as the sun is blocked from your eyes, you're met with the blurry vision of Price as he mouths something off to the drill Sargent.

But that was months ago and now you feel stupid for letting yourself get that low. There's that worry that hangs over the rest of your task force as they still ask you questions about that day. But never your Lieutenant as he instead worries in his own (special) way...

♡ ♡ ♡

There's a little knock on your door, harsh but not too hard you jump out of your skin, soft enough to know it's your Lieutenant. "Come in," You say not looking up from your desk as you continue to work, the endless paperwork won't do itself. "How are you doing...?" He seems a bit awkward when asking that question like he normally doesn't ask people how they're doing.

"I'm alright, need something?" You question turning around in your seat to find him sitting next to you on your cot, surprised at how he moved so fast. "I know you haven't eaten so I brought something." He roughly said, your eyes glistening with the urge to instantly rip open the grey plastic bag. You can nearly see a box of some sort sitting perfectly there, a neat knot tied together on top to keep the surprise inside.

You drop the pen and your mind from doing the paperwork, turning away from the pile of mess and instead facing Ghost as he begins to open the plastic bag. "You didn't have to." You say shyly, seeming appreciative as he shakes his head in return, "No. You need to eat, Y/N." You don't say anything and instead, just nod your head in appreciation and also agreeing with him in some way. Stalking his movements as he carefully takes the food out of the bag. His eyes catch your hungry craved eyes, a smirk hidden behind his mask.

♡ ♡ ♡

Looking down at the cards you sigh again, "Got nothing." "Ha! Ace and ten," Soap said cheerfully after beating you for the tenth time tonight. But you would never say that you were never in the game from the start, despite Soap explaining the game you had no fucking idea how to play.

"Give it'ere." Price said, catching the cards as Soap threw the pack to him, his hands instantly got to shuffling the deck. Gaz sat next to you on the floor as Price sat in front of him, Soap sitting in front of you. A perfect circular Arrangement with everyone's attention on Price as he shuffled the cards in the same movement and technique as he's been doing for years.

Through your eyes averted to Ghost in the corner of the room, his body leaning on the wall as he guards the window, his eyes scanning the premier. So you decide to walk over, let your Lieutenant take a break and play some cards. After such a rough day with Gaz nearly getting shot in his shpulder the team decided to camp out fpor the night.

Letting all the adrenaline you guys felt before melting into the floor and walls of this small dingy 'safe house'. "I got it, sir." Ghost looks over at you, your smile is reassuring but after a day like today, he seemed like the only one who still wasn't relaxed. He nods after a second of staring at you, picking his gun up from leaning on the wall but he stops right before his elbow touches yours.

"Had any water today?" You hum quietly, not looking back before you take over his leaning position on the wall but he still stood there. After a bunch of shuffling in which you thought was Price with his cards a cold water bottle touched your arm. Ghost stood there arm reached out as he nudged you on, signalling for you to take the bottle.

"I'm alright-" "Take it." Your eyes flicked between the bottle and his piercing eyes, fuck you could feel how much he was persuading you. "That's an order, Y/N." You sigh, rolling your eyes slightly as you take the bottle from his hand, he continues to watch you gulp the cold refreshing liquid down. His hand pushing up in a motion as he signalled for you to continue drinking when your lips were about to leave.

But after a while, he was satisfied, nodding his head when you could finally pull away. You were about to hum back thanks before he spoke slowly, the last word came out deathly quietly as you couldn't understand what he had just said.

"Good, girl..."

[arachine]

eye is twitching at size difference!neteyam whether it be w a human or na'vi. eye twitching n toes curling ESPECIALLY at nervous neteyam whose tail and ears are twitching bc his ass is hot and bothered n trying to hide it bc??????? example setter big responsible brother neteyam can NOT show anybody he's weak as hell when it comes to his (future?) mate. istg like let's just say the village is throwing a feast or whatever and the women are dancing w the men/their mates and he's just mesmerized by her n when she approaches him takes his hand and leads him to the dance BOY IS JUST WEAK IN THE KNEESSSSS ready to start whining n twirling his hair like i KNOW this would happen he told me himself

MMFFFFF!!!! oh my god. fuck you.

+ human! reader, suggestive

+ note :: me when i am physically INCAPABLE of elaborating on a thirst, so i turn it into a full fledged drabble LOL! also fuck that damn oxygen mask…it be fucking up the vibes so it doesn’t exist in this 😍

he’s like seated by the fire right. just sulking, brooding—you know, as per usual. the feast had commenced some time ago, and now the clan was scattered in clusters, just laughing, conversing, drinking (whatever the na’vi equivalent to earth alcohol was)—and then, you come in. 

well, you don’t just come in—you’re dancing, and it’s not just you. there’s a line of na’vi women parading through the clearing, all dressed in fancy garments (suited for dancers), ululating and gyrating their hips. amongst these experienced women, you stick out like a sore thumb. not because you’re dancing particularly bad, but because the line depresses drastically in height when it gets to you. but it’s cute, he thinks. adorable, even. 

usually, you’re a clumsy little thing, but right now you have this aura about you. it’s something fierce—and with every step, every twirl of your arms, and shake of your hips, he finds himself teetering closer and closer to the edge of his seat. 

and your eyes? your eyes haven’t left his since you stepped foot into his peripheral vision. they’re darker in color compared to his, but the amber hue flames of the fire light them ablaze. calling him, luring him—like a siren, and he, an unfortunate sailor who’s fallen into his own trap. 

when you round his section, you circle around him. once, twice, three times. his head is on a swivel, eyes never leaving yours as you make your way to the fire. 

you’re only dancing. it’s not like he hasn’t seen this exact same dance hundreds of times, with these exact same garments, and these exact same women who prance around seductively teasing men—because he has. a many of times. but…this was different, intimate. in a way that he couldn’t quite explain. 

and now you’re leaving your place around the fire and women, striding up to him all gracefully. he’s so entranced that he doesn’t process that you’ve grabbed his hands, nor does he process that he was now standing, and walking with you to the fire, and—

“wait, wait, what are you doi-“

but he’s already too far to turn back. he has to commit, especially since all eyes were now on you and him. this was calculated. an attack on his very name and the reputation that he’s so carefully crafted over these past few years. 

see, the thing about neteyam is…he doesn’t dance. he never got the chance to just goof around growing up, not like lo’ak, especially not like lo’ak. no, he was too focused training, and sparring—being primed for war. when you grow up with responsibilities that only an eldest child can be burdened with, you don’t dance. 

“i do not dance,” he tries to pull away, but to no avail. your grip on him is vice and your eyes are fierce, a silent assurance that you were not to be trifled with, at least not now, while there are stares. he surrenders his body to you, lets you pull him deeper into the abyss. 

for a while, he stands there rather awkwardly, just shifting side to side as you walk circles around him. moving just enough to appease you, but not enough to look like he’s enjoying himself. you’re not the least bit impressed, though. you know he can do better. much better. 

“stop being so rigid, move your body,” you poke his side, earning a playful hiss. “i want you to copy me, look, mimic my movements.” you back away slowly, swaying your arms side to side and whirling your fingers up to the sky before letting them drop in front of your face—palms facing outward, fingers spread. 

when he repeats it, you press your palms together, peeking through your fingers. in this moment, there is nobody else. just you, him, and the fire. eyes staring back into eyes, two souls connecting. now that he’s so close, he can see just about every detail of your irises. 

they’re not as dark as he’s always thought them to be, there’s a sparkle behind them. a light or fire that flickers brightly, and he can see himself, too. a mirage of himself burning in the fire. he doesn’t want to look away but then you’re backing away again, laughing and spinning wildly, and he tries to reach for you but you dodge his advances. catch me, you mouth. catch me. 

faster than he can blink, you end up behind him. playfully, you pull his tail and when he spins to stop you from doing it again, you stumble backwards. before your body has the chance to hit the soil, he catches you. lean, strong arms taking you into his hold: one supporting your neck and the other on the small of your back. there it was. that clumsiness.

“dancers are supposed to move with grace,” he whispers teasingly, his face so close to yours you can feel the warmth of his breath, “that wasn’t graceful.” he wants you to take the bait. take the bait, take the bait, take the bai—

“oh, mr. ‘i don’t dance’ is critiquing me now?” you bite. it took a second for you to answer him, partly because you were trying to come up with something slick to respond with, but mostly because of the proximity. his eyes were pretty, too pretty for a smug little shit like him. “guess the student becomes the master.”

he laughs in the interstice of your neck, pulling you up slowly to your original vertical position. eventually, the music begins to come to a somber decrescendo, signifying the end of the song, and you two quickly remember the audience surrounding you. 

“find me later,” you say into his ear. his tail shoots up from the insinuation. “i can teach you something else that isn’t dancing.” 

[asimpwithfreetime]

Mr. Steal your girl (Tsu’tey x fem!reader / Jake Sully x Neytiri)

Summary: Tsu’tey tries to make Jake mad by dating his mate (He doesn’t know that you are not Jake’s human mate but his sister)

This fic is way looooonger than I expected.

Kind of a fluffy one-shot

Warnings: none I could think of.

Let’s pretend that Tsu’tey didn’t die, okay?

Also, I wrote this at 6 am in the morning and I have to wake up at seven, this might be the longest sleep deprived rant I’ve done.

English is not my first language

[ Reader’s POV ]

Jake has been acting strange since he became an avatar user, he barely sleeps o eats. He is always with Dr. Grace talking about Na’vis and their culture. I’ve also heard him talk about a woman, Neytiri I think.

Sometimes I wish I could go have adventures with him, running around Pandora freely. Not being small enough to be eaten by almost EVERYTHING.

Once the war with the sky people, no longer our workmates, started, I chose to fight on the side of the Na’vis, even though, none of them knew me.

I got injured during the battle. My brother, in his avatar form, picked me up, biding goodbye to his mate and bringing me back to our base to let Norm patch me up. I almost didn’t notice the freezing cold gaze that fell upon me.

[ Tsu’tey’s POV ]

So the demon with a fake body already had a mate with the sky people. She looks extremely weak. And he just PICKED HER UP in such a loving and caring way!? In front of Neytiri, as if nothing was wrong.

I walked towards Neytiri, but she didn’t seem upset. Okay, I’ll need to figure this out.

[ Few days after ]

[ Y/n’ POV ]

I was almost cured enough to go outside again. Even if I needed an oxygen mask to breath outside, it felt so freeing to see Pandora.

I didn’t want to wait any longer, so when Jake and Norm were distracted, I went out, into the forest. At first, I felt lost, but soon I found my way around it. Nature was beautiful here and we had stopped its destruction.

Stepping though the forest, I found a small lake and I walked up to it to see my reflexion. Standing closely to it I could see myself, but when I looked closely I could see the tree branches. In one of them there was a Na’vi, his bow was prepared to shoot me and he didn’t seem very happy.

[ Tsu’tey’s POV ]

I thought all humans were forced to leave the other day, except for some of Jakesully’s friends. I didn’t see any human women between them. I MUST kill her.

I followed her around the forest, I tried to be as silent as possible. She looked weak. Suddenly I remembered myself thinking the exact same thing. THIS IS JAKESULLY’S MATE. He didn’t show her to us because he wanted her all for himself while still having Neytiri. That bastard!

If I killed her, Jakesully would have to tell the truth right? Or maybe he would get so mad he would go back to his stupid dying planet.

I prepared my bow, pointing the arrow directly at her. She was so relaxed here, she wouldn’t expect this. But, she was looking into a lake, I couldn’t see it properly but I knew something was up when she tensed up. She turned around looking directly at me. For a split of a second I felt bad. I looked at her, her face soft and beautiful. Wait! Did I just though this human piece of meat was beautiful?

I tensed my bow a little bit more to scare her. She pulled her hands up in the air and said “Don’t kill me please!”. I thought about it. She was so weak she didn’t seem like a problem. But she was still Jakesully’s mate.

My mind raced, maybe Jake was being unfaithful to both of them and she wasn’t the one to fault. I brought my bow down and jumped from the tree. She was so small compared to me. From up close I could she her poor body shaking while she looked at me with a pleading look en her eyes.

When we were close enough I said, trying to sound strong even though my accent was not very good. “I am not going to kill you, sky demon”. She looked at me, still doubting it. I was about to tell her to go off to her base and never come back here, but an idea crossed my mind. What if I steal Jakesully’s mate?

Mine died, then her parents promised me Neytiri, I did like her, even though she wasn’t my real mate. Then Jakesully had to come and ruin it, once again sky people broke my chances of being happy. I almost died in the fight and lost all my privileges I would get for being the clan’s chief. I was degraded just for a sky demon in a Na’vi flesh disguise.

I waited for three and a half years, Jakesully did it in one week. I looked at her when my idea seemed perfect. If a human stole my Na’vi mate, a Na’vi will steal his human mate. Perfect.

Just as I was thinking that, a woodsprite fell onto her head. Was Eywa saying that I should do it? Was Ewya giving me back what’s fair?

I smiled mischievously. The woman looked terrified.

[ Y/n’s POV ]

He was smiling at me just right after he was aiming at me with a bow and arrow. “Are you okay?”

He seemed to snap out if his trance. He pulled his bow and arrow to his side, not shooting it. “Who are you? Why are you here? You weren’t with the scientists that would stay here” his words were accusing, but his accent was adorable, I couldn’t help but giggle to myself.

“I am Y/n. Y/n Sully” his face darkened at the saying of my surname.

[ Tsu’tey’s POV ]

I knew she was his mate. Humans give each other their supernames? Subnames? Sournames? Whatever!

I knew she had to be with him.

[ 3rd Person POV ]

For the next couple of days, Tsu’tey began the Na’vi courting with Y/n. Sometimes she blushed at his advances, something that made him really proud. But other times she was oblivious to them.

Once he was close enough he kissed her, copying how Jake kissed Neytiri. Just with a smaller figure. He had taken off her mask for a second, kissing her roughly. She was red as a tomato.

Tsu’tey should admit that he began doing that to annoy Jakesully and to steal his mate as a revenge. But now he did want to steal her.

[ A month later or so ]

Tsu’tey felt nervous, he didn’t know how the mating would go as they would need help of the Tsa’hìk. He went to look for Jake. “Jake I am going to mate your human mate” he said, in English.

“Tsu’tey, brother, I think you might have messed up the sentence” Jake thought that the Na’vi had said something wrong because of the language.

He repeated the same words, now in Na’vi and Jake was as dumbfounded as before.

“Y/n, I am talking about Y/n” Tsu’tey explained. Jake started laughing. “What’s so funny? I courted her better than you could every imagine” Tsu’tey felt that laugh as a taunt to his pride.

“Y/n isn’t my mate” Jake hollered between laughs. “But she has your sourname!” Tsu’tey said.

“She is my sister!” Jake began laughing again. Tsu’tey felt his face loosing color. He looked dumbfounded. He still loved Y/n but now he felt like a fool.

[breannasfluff]

[Collapse] with exhausted Warriors and Time?

Warriors is pushing himself too hard. It’s a behavior Time is familiar with, although he went by Mask back then. The captain looks after his troops, even when he’s not their leader. He’s a good man.

He’s also a stubborn one. Taking a break does not register as an option. If Time doesn’t address this, he’s going to run himself into the ground. 

“Wars, mind giving me a hand?”

He’s quick to stop fussing over the others and come over. “What do you need?”

“Your hand.”

“My…hand?” The captain puts it out, although his eyes narrow. He’s been on the wrong end of too many pranks not to be a little suspicious. 

Time examines it. It’s shaking slightly, despite how he tries to hide it. Stepping a little closer, Time drops his voice to a whisper. “Actually, I could use a hug.”

Now, he has no problem asking for a hug out loud, but Warriors falls for it hook, line, and sinker.

With a sharp nod he steps forward and wraps his arms around Time. “Don’t worry, you’re doing great.”

The assurance isn’t needed, but he appreciates it nonetheless. Time’s arms circle the captain’s back, firm and strong. Warriors takes a shuddering breath and, once it starts, the trembling doesn’t stop.

Time is ready for his weight as Warriors’ knees buckle. “It’s okay, Wars. I’ve got you. You’re pushing yourself too hard.” Slowly, he guides them to sit on the ground.

The captain shoots him a weak glare. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”

Time wipes away any emotion except surprise. “What do you mean? I just wanted a hug.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure you did.” Still, Warriors leans against Time and doesn’t leave.

[drunkwhenimadethis]

In the white lucid morning, glowing still with rain and winter scent, I committed myself to you again, secretly, in silence. Love—eternal, devotional—rose its perfumed head. Calm ecstatic hymns drown out the emptiness that I had, up until the last moment, been perceiving as caused by you. And warm sensations rise like spring river water thawing out to wash over the pain I had thought you were giving me. Regardless of the black countryside and your wild snorting horse and your endless drawing of swords, I will no longer permit a dark word against you, I will not allow my inner flock of vultures to hunt hungrily for your decay. For you alone I am not who I once was. For you alone I find no joy in battle. For you alone I wait for the dance of war to dwindle. I recognize and protect your weaknesses which call for such rigid strategies, I see the logic in your once incomprehensible stance. I love you also when you wear that mask of blood and when you disguise your heavenly scent with bad behaviors. There is a cost that comes with loving a soldier of this world. Our land is full of thunder and you are the one I watch shyly, recognizing, awe-overflowing, that you do not want to fight but it is all that you know, and so go. I remain here, affections transforming into humble duty, preparing your ointments and your stew. I will remain alive feeding on meat and memory’s warm liquids, listening to the musical tones of nature, imagining that it is your harsh voice somewhere over the mountain ranges that commands the winds to move in such a magical direction.

[arecaceae175]

Febuwhump Day 2: Flinching (Time)

This one is inspired by my all time favorite thing ever: this comic by @wolfy1298. This fic is not exactly what happens in the comic, but it has some of the same scenes and the same vibes and I was seeing it in my head as I wrote this. AO3 link.

Warnings: none.

The full moon shone brightly, illuminating the camp in its pale glow. Warriors stretched his arms above his head and allowed himself a moment to wake up before he moved. 

Judging by the moon’s position, it was well past his turn for watch. Warriors lifted himself up from his bedroll with a yawn and curled his scarf tighter around his shoulders to ward off the chill. He glanced quickly around camp, doing a quick headcount, before he carefully walked over to Time.

Time was perched on a rock, sword drawn and placed over his knees. He was staring at the moon with an unreadable expression on his face. Time’s hands were loosely clasped together and two fingers were on his wedding ring, twirling the band in lazy circles.

“Time?” Warriors asked in a whisper. Time didn’t react. Warriors glanced back at the other heroes sleeping, then back to Time’s motionless form. Very gently, he placed a hand on Time’s shoulder. 

Time flinched. It was a small movement, and he took control over his body nearly instantly, but Warriors didn’t miss it. He pulled his hand back and left it to hover anxiously above Time’s shoulder. 

“Old man? You with me?” Warriors asked. 

“My apologies. You startled me,” Time said. He moved one hand to rest on the hilt of his sword. 

Warriors hesitated, then asked, “Are you okay?”

Time sighed deeply, his eyes moving back up to the night sky. “I’m alright. I was just… thinking,” Time said in a quiet voice. 

Warriors narrowed his eyes, taking in the bags beneath Time’s eyes and his white-knuckled grip on his sword. As if he noticed Warriors’ gaze, Time heaved another sigh and relaxed his grip on the sword.

“You don’t need to worry about me, Captain. I’ll be alright,” Time said. 

Warriors huffed a laugh and flicked one side of his scarf over Time’ shoulders. “It’s far too late for that,” he said with a smile. 

Time returned his smile, and Warriors could have sworn he saw a faint blush cross Time’s cheeks. Warriors unwound his scarf and settled it more securely around Time’s shoulders. He moved Time’s sword to rest against the rock then lowered himself down onto the rock next to Time.

“It’s my watch. Get some sleep, sprite,” Warriors said. Time’s lips quirked up and he dropped his head onto Warriors’ shoulder. Warriors chuckled.

“I meant in your bedroll, you gremlin,” Warriors said.

“Same thing,” Time mumbled, pulling Warriors’ scarf tighter around his body.

Warriors shook his head and tried with all his might to keep from smiling. He wrapped an arm around Time’s shoulders, a content and nostalgic feeling in his heart. 

If this was what Time needed to feel safe tonight, Warriors would happily act as his pillow for as long as he needed.

[binart]

Space Ranger Partner's Adventures Chapter 1

(First) (Next)

-

A marriage proposal from a complete stranger in the middle of a top-secret alien spy base was, surprisingly, not the strangest thing to happen to Lance in the past 24 hours.

The strangest thing was probably that he was even here. He'd been proposed to a handful of times after his part in the war efforts largely ended; Adoring fans, of course. But in under a day he'd been flown from his family home in New Altea, introduced into the very secretive very select ranks of the Blades of Marmora, got his ass handed to him by some cat alien who was currently standing 10 feet away and therefore very likely his new teammate, and—possibly most surprising of all, realized he was going to have to ask his buddy keith out because apparently he'd gone off and gotten hot in the past three years.

"No, no. I told you no proposals." From beside him, the very same Keith Kogane—his ex-teammate turned leader—lurched forward and extracted Lance's hand from Torat, one of his new teammates. Though the alien stood well over a stocky 8 feet, he had dropped to one knee before asking Lance to spend the remainder of his apparently short life with him. His large hands had all but encompassed his own, but were shockingly gentle.

"Have I.. conducted myself improperly within the ritual..?" Torat questioned in a small voice, much to Keith's clear chagrin.

"You forgot a ring!" Kestin, another of Lance's new teammates—their pilot—helpfully supplied.

"Not supposed to do it in front of a crowd unless the other person says you can!" To the right of Kestin, Hedrox joined in. They'd met yesterday, and the blade seemed all too happy to join in on the fun.

"...Yh.." The lanky cat alien, En, stood stiffly next to Hedrox, slightly turned away from everyone. He'd been that way since he and Keith entered the room just moments before. "You cannot simply ask a h-hu-human being to join into such a pact! T-There are numerous prerequisites—to say nothing of the time needed to be spent with the other individual—before such a momentous proposal can be made!" They turned their head to look directly at Lance—Or so he assumed; All members save for himself and Keith wore masks covering their entire faces. Then they gave a human soldier salute. "Lieutenant, Sir!"

Lance had no idea how to respond to any of this. "Y-Yeah. Uh.. Uh. Yeah. Sorry." Man, he really hadn't been around anyone except for his family for a while. He felt rusty. He gave a weak salute in return, before a memory from the evening prior bubbled to the surface of his mind.

"I will do my utmost to familiarize myself with human naming and title customs-"

"It's fine, man."

Oh. Maybe that was related.

"Okay, guys, enough." Thankfully Keith cut in, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "We're not here to—propose to Lance, alright?!" He wiped a palm down his face as if to try and banish the redness creeping in. "We're here to see all the time and effort we've been putting into this project finally see some results."

The room quieted, and everyone stood tall, and tense. Hedrox, however, seemed excited.

"That we are, Commander!" There was a table with a digital surface separating Keith, himself, and Torat from the other three, and Hedrox slapped their palms down onto it. Immediately, several large rectangular screens coated in Galran projected into clear view. The room automatically darkened. "I'm very pleased to say I've been at the helm of this—which, er, Commander? Do we need an explanation for those who are new?" His voice held a pleasant watery lilt to it, and if it weren't for the horn protruding from their forehead Lance would have guessed they were a half-Galran half-merperson or something.

Keith crossed his arms and gave his throat a quiet clear. "I've only briefed him on the basics. Floor's yours."

"Excellent. Gather 'round, team. Here's what we're doing." With deft hands they tapped away at a console and began pulling up several images, as well as additional Galran text Lance struggled to quickly translate. He'd all but mastered Altean since he retired (thanks mostly to Allura teaching him, but sometimes he wondered if the marks she gave him when she thought she was going to die contributed to how effortlessly he learned), but he'd only just started learning Common Galran half a year ago. Frustratingly it was way more context based, and very, VERY heavy importance was placed on sound emphasis. There were also over three hundred individual characters to memorize, whose meaning could vastly differ depending on what other characters were next to it. He was actually pretty glad to have something else to fill his time now; A great excuse to avoid slamming his head against the language every day. He could make out.. Eta-17 pa-facilty..? Facility? Facility. He squinted. Why was that familiar?

"..For the last year, we've been surveying a Galran anti-coalition outpost at the edge of the Ornitier System, which we know is serving as a key point for filtering and channelling intel. I've been doing what I do best and systematically replacing tiny components of their communication terminals with the tech the green paladin and I co-designed.” There was something strangely human about the way he spoke, despite the mild alien accent.

“And now, we stand nearly ready for a seamless takeover.”

Hedrox held up two small devices. "These. Are my baby children. Months of hard work. Cleared—and might I add complimented—by the green paladin. When both are installed into the facility's internal security network and main processing core respectively, they're undetectable. We'll be able to spy on enemy intel with them none the wiser." The ground beneath them gave a weak lurch. Lance could feel the familiar pull of motion, even if he couldn’t confirm via a window; No one paid it any mind, so he assumed it was normal.

“So that's why we're here today. They're too complex for my little helpers to remotely install.” Tiny clicking erupted then spilled from Hedrox's hood; At least thirty floating mechanical looking creatures no bigger than sunflower seeds circled his head. “I've altered the security rounds the sentries take to facilitate an easy infiltration and installation, and as long as they haven't gone and scrambled their normal routes, this should be an easy in and out.” The blade then motioned towards Lance. “The commander had research and development outfit a sniper rifle with a scrambling code that will temporarily freeze any sentries it hits and reroute them in case there's any hiccups in the plan, or someone's about to get caught.” Among other things; the knife and pistol in their respective holsters reminded him of their weight.

“Their monitoring and sentry patrol systems ‘refresh’ once an hour—so, that’s our time limit—and we need to get in so I can upload a new set of instructions to a pre-existing program that will facilitate—That is, uh. It’s—It’s a virus? The green paladin called it a virus. Am I using the term correctly?”

Keith nodded, scratched the back of his head and turned to Lance. “Basically, we need to get in so Hedrox, En, and Torat can upload a virus that’ll make it so we can track down their headquarters eventually.”

From the other side of the table, En growled. “The malignant remnants of the accursed empire and their cowardly tactics..! Always on the run, attacking colonies before fleeing. They’re filth, and we will find them, and cut short their worthless excuses of lives..”

The room grew quiet, and stuffy. There was the whir of machinery and motion from all around. Keith cleared his throat.

“Right. So, the security network room and main processing core are in different locations, but the area where Hedrox and En need to work together will have more foot-traffic. You'll be giving them cover.”

Hedrox brought up additional panels, this time with a 3-D map of several alien-looking floors. He traced what Lance read as “entry-point” labelled in Galran all the way over to the right. “Here's where you'll be stationed with the Commander—route A. First, Kestin brings us in. The Commander and Lieutenant follow route A and get into position and provide cover fire as needed. Torat goes through route C, and En and I head to B. Easy!”

Lance smirked. “That's it? I take out sentries from afar while the hacker blades do their thing? Just like old times?” With a fond smile, Keith let out a puff of air from his nose.

“Just like old times. I’ll be there next to you since—uh, I was originally going to take your spot.”

Lance blinked at him. “Huh? I didn’t know you were good at—“

“I’m not. Just, making due with what we had. Things’ll go much more smoothly now that you’re here watching our backs, and I can focus on troubleshooting if anything comes up.” Keith’s complete faith in him left Lance light on his feet, and he hung his head and chuckled nervously.

“Cool, that doesn’t actually sound all that bad. ‘Think I can handle it.” Keith gave a surprisingly gentle nudge with his arm against Lance’s own.

“You got this, Lance.” He turned to the rest of their team. “ETA?” This time, Kestin spoke up.

“Approximately 20 minutes, sir.”

—

Pre-mission anxiety, long forgotten, made its unwelcomed return.

Lance sat pressed against the dark wall of an unsecured entry duct alongside Keith, Hedrox, and En; Though the tallest of them gave him a wide berth likely due to the events of the night prior.

Good. He might have acted the bigger person, but Lance very much did not like having his ass handed to him. He’d get a rematch from them at some point.

His stomach gave another uncomfortable lurch, and he pressed a palm to his abdomen to will the discomfort away. They had to wait for Torat’s initial sweep of the place before they could advance to their own spots; Surprisingly he seemed to be the stealthiest out of all of them despite his size.

“You alright?” Keith’s quiet voice filtered through the internal comms system in his suit. Though now masked, Keith tilted his head back to glance in his direction. He gave a weak thumbs up.

“Nerves. It’s been a while,” he quietly admitted. Three years of therapy had made it surprisingly easy to talk about his feelings, even if years ago he would have balked at the idea of showing weakness to Keith. But things were different now.

Keith reached a gloved hand over, and rested it on Lance’s forearm. Firm, but comforting, somehow. “Hey, you’ll be okay. I’m right here beside you the whole time, right?”

Things really were different now; Even his voice was doing things to him. “Y-Yeah. Yeah. Thanks—We got this.”

“In position.” Torat’s whisper of a voice interrupted the singing in his chest, and prickles of anxiety returned to gnawing deeper into his stomach. “Sentry patrol routes seem randomized.” Hedrox gave a light click of his tongue.

“..I knew they’d start doing it to all their bases eventually, but I was hoping we’d have more time before it got to the ones we compromised..” The blade brandished from his thigh pouch a strange, tiny black capsule that was barely the size of Lance’s thumb. “Guess there’s not enough leeway to sticky our fingers a bit, huh?” Lance furrowed his brows.

“Uh, what?” Keith made a dismissive gesture towards him.

“Pidge’s new tech. They’re tiny, but we use them to collect huge chunks of inorganic matter—usually servers or data storage. Not today, though. Come on, clock’s ticking.”

“Yes, Commander.” Featherlight and silent owed to their suits, the four advanced. En and Hedrox split off into the seemingly endless halls, while Lance trailed behind Keith. Weapons were a last resort, but if anything went wrong; Lance felt the pistol’s weight heavily on his right thigh, and his knife on the left. He’d dealt with sentries hundreds of times before now, and so despite how queasy he was starting to feel, the idea of potentially fighting some of them left his pulse surprisingly steady.

Keith took a sharp turn left to a dead-end, then motioned for Lance to use him to boost up to the small maintenance shaft in the corner. Right, the nest was up in there. Despite himself, Lance felt his cheeks flush and was grateful that they were hidden while he sat on Keith’s shoulders for the short time needed to remove the panel. He slid in with plenty of room to spare, and the other man soon followed.

After half a minute of near-silent upwards crawling, the shaft opened up into what would be Lance’s vantage point. There were seven large, curved window like panels punched out of the metallic dark purple walls, with a dimly shining object rested off to the side on a wall. He made his way over and picked up what was clearly a blade issued rifle, shockingly alike to the one he had practised with the day before. Adjusting to it wouldn’t be an issue, then, other than—

“This doesn’t shoot bullets, so—no kickback?” Lance turned to face Keith, who was now peering through the open panels into the massive facility below; From Lance’s precursory glance he saw walls upon walls of wires and oblong towers lit up in Galran code. The hood on Keith’s head bobbed in affirmation. From behind, he could see just how broad his shoulders had gotten..

“Got you in my sights, Hedrox.” Keith looked around. “Where’s En?” With that, Lance realized he should be doing what he was brought there to do and got into position. He raised the sights and took in the area below, scanning for the wayward blade.

“Eight o’clock, Commander.” He couldn’t hide the satisfaction in his voice, and Keith followed the point of his rifle until he spotted them emerge from a small maintenance shaft. Another pleased half-laugh.

“Good eye, Lieutenant.”

“‘S what I’m here for.”

“Uh, do you—“ Lance turned his sights toward Hedrox working to pull apart the base of one of the strange techno-towers while he spoke in a jovial watery tone. “We have a private line on our comms, Lieutenant, in case you and the Commander want to—Y’know what nevermind.“

“Focus.” Keith crossed his arms and looked away. “Torat, how’s that upload?”

”Forty percent, Commander.” His already quiet voice was a hush of a whisper. Then, “..Patrols have necessitated my heavy cloak function for five dobos—minutes and counting.”

Keith's masked view immediately shot to his wrist with a quiet hiss. Their regular cloaking built in to their exo-suits dampened sounds and turned the outer coating into something like a mirror, but the heavy cloaking function removed any and all methods of detection that the Galra were currently known to use, Keith had explained on the way there. But the power cost was enormous, and could only last fifteen minutes when drawing from the suit’s internal battery. Best used in short bursts, since completely depleting the suit’s power meant no oxygen, and no protection from the ravages of space if they had to be jettisoned out in an emergency.

“Hedrox, anything you can do to help speed it up from there?” Immediately tension shot through the air, and Lance listened with a growing sense of helplessness. “Lance, your left.”

A sentry getting too close to the others, quiznack! He held his breath, took aim, then fired. The rifle didn’t flinch, but the sentry’s head immediately bent at a strange angle, it twitched while standing upright, then turned around and began heading back in the direction it came. He got too caught up and Keith had to bail him out, he realized shamefully. He readied a quick apology on his tongue, but voices buzzed back into his mask.

“Working on it. Not great at multi-tasking though. En, gimmie a hand.” Hedrox’s normal ease had sharpened into something else. The cat-eared blade made their way to his side and took the panel passed to them before typing away nearly as quickly as their partner. “Couple yottabytes of code to implement Commander, this is gonna take some time on both ends.”

Quiznack. Another two sentries from either side. Inhale, hold. Position, fire. Position, fire. Another sentry turned the corner just as soon as the other two turned away. Exhale, inhale, position, fire.

“Torat, are the sentries letting up?”

”Forty-two percent. ..No, Commander.” Inhale, position, fire. Lance spared a quick glance at Keith, now clearly growing more tense. He returned his focus. Man, there were so many! Three more marched in a group to Hedrox and En’s flank, and there was only a narrow gap of space to get them as they approached. Exhale, inhale, position, fire, position, fire, position, fire. The sentries turned away, and so did Keith.

“We may have to call this.” Keith's tense body language betrayed the even way he spoke. Inhale, position, fire.

Lance could hear En’s breathing pick up as they typed furiously away beside Hedrox in between shots. There was a shocking number of sentries, and Lance couldn’t help but wonder if having less bases to work within meant the anti-coalition Galrans could stuff the ones they did still have full of them. “An entire Deca-Phoeb worth of operations, wiped away..?! Commander there must be another way.”

“No. Torat, abandon the upload when your suit gets down to two minutes. I’ll extract you.”

Inhale, position, fire. Silence.

“Torat.” An authority from Keith Lance hadn’t witnessed before emerged from his suit. “Is that understood?” Harsh. No room for further discussion.

“….Yes, Commander.”

In between breath after dizzying breath, the seconds and then minutes ticked by as everyone worked in frantic silence. He watched as Hedrox and En practically glued themselves to the small walls of the gutted tower, hands flying over keys faster than even Lance’s eyes could keep up with. Distantly in his ears, Torat updated the upload percent every sixty seconds as he, too, typed away. Sweat beaded then dripped down his neck as stiffness crept up it. His rifle smeared and shifted until it looked like his old bayard, and Lance ignored it and continue to fire.

Thirteen minutes in, it was clear to everyone there wouldn’t be enough time. Keith’s steadying presence had knelt next to Lance by that point, intently watching the battery of Torat’s suit drain and pause, then continue draining via a small screen on the underside of his wrist. He stood up, and shook his head.

“I’m calling it. Torat, abandon the upload, rendezvous at the extraction point.” A muted, miserable sound. En? Inhale, position, fire, position, fire, position, fire, exhale. No, Torat.

“We must succeed, you have worked too hard, Commander.”

“There’ll be other outposts. Now, soldier.” Again, silence. Inhale, position, fire, position, fire.

“..Failure here, for a life that may not even see il’E’s newest sun.. No, black paladin sir. For this I would gladly go without its warming rays.” Keith froze. Lance glanced at him, then back to his scope. Shit, shit, what was happening?! Inhale, position, fire, position, fire. “If ever you are able to retrieve my capsule from the vent below, have my family bury it under the spire by our sea.”

Before Lance could even register what was said, he was pulled. Keith vanished from his view and he felt a hand grip the back of his suit’s chest piece before being yanked very quickly from the room. It happened so quickly that he nearly fumbled and dropped the rifle, but managed to keep his hold. He was then hoisted up by—he realized now it was Keith—and manoeuvred until he was then sliding down the shaft he and Keith had crawled up before. “En, Hedrox, heavy cloaking, now. Keep your work out of sight. Abandon mission when I give the signal.” Steady, clipped.

“Yes, sir.” Keith was sliding behind him now even though he couldn’t hear or see him; The heavy press of his palm against his side to keep him steady nearly burned. He felt pressure lift his hand and press down on his palm—oh, right, the button to cloak himself. Then, in through his mask,

“Get your pistol ready, set it to stun, follow me.”

They shot out from the end of the maintenance crawl and Lance tore after the back of Keith’s head.

“The upload will proceed as planned. It’s been an honor, sir.”

Keith did not respond, only sprinted and twisted down the endless hallways as they dodged around sentry after sentry. Lance had strapped the rifle to his back and readied his small pistol as commanded, even though he didn’t understand. Were they going to extract Torat? He tapped the side and slid a piece into place to ensure it was set to stun. He trusted Keith, he knew what he was doing, and he could—he wanted to help in whatever way he needed him to.

The sound was different, somehow, but Keith’s voice once again came into his ears, panting with exertion. “He’ll have to uncloak for at least half a second for the capsule to recognize and capture him. When you see him, I want you to shoot him in the forehead where his eye is, Lance.”

The capsule? The one for.. inorganic matter? If organic matter like a person was compressed into it—wouldn’t that definitely kill them? Through the adrenaline, it distantly clicked what Torat was intending to do, but he couldn’t waste time thinking about it. “O-Okay.” Lance hooked his arm against a corner and pulled, narrowly missing a towering sentry as he caught up to Keith. Half a second to make a shot when he was practically wheezing though; Hesitation crawled up his spine. “How far—until we—get to him?”

“End of the hall, dead left.” Keith showed no signs of slowing, and Lance through the haze of it all wondered if he was cut out for any of this, and what would happen when he failed. If he failed. He was going to mess this up. He was going to get Keith killed somehow, wasn’t he?

Their feet silently pounding against the neon lit floor came to the end of the hallway. As they did so, Lance took in the most even breath he could muster, prayed his pulse wouldn’t throw off his aim, whipped his pistol up to the left, and aimed. Keith jammed his palm against their open com channel and flashed back into view.

“Torat, look at me—That’s an order!” The blade in question materialized suddenly in front of them, holding the same thumb-sized black capsule in front of his chest. Time slowed. In that millisecond of a moment, Lance realized he didn’t have a clear shot of Torat’s third eye. The capsule glowed a clear enough target, easy to shoot out of his hands, and his thumb was still hovering over the button on the top. Time moved another inch, and the hulking blade twitched, then could not help but turn his head towards his commanding officer.

“Forgiv—”

Lance took the shot.

—

Debrief was quiet.

No one spoke except for Keith. Lance, foolishly, felt like he was eight years old again and in trouble, for some reason. A memory of something his therapist said to him once drifted into his mind as Keith grumbled out a report. Lance couldn’t even remember the exact wording, but it was something to focus on while he ignored the ache in his entire body, and his pounding headache, at least. What was it, again..?

Hyper aware of mental states of those around him.. Discomfort around emotions regardless of where it was directed..? He couldn’t really remember. While he was reflecting, he decided to explore the room they always met in back in New Altea; Two o’clock sharp every Friday, warm room facing the sun, post-modern in decoration and very comfortable. Photos of her family on the desk, two dogs. Always enough tissues when he went there because he couldn’t cry around his family who would worry, but he could cry around a stranger who didn’t matter.

A stranger he would outlive, since she was fully human.

Torat swayed next to him, but soon righted himself.

“Understood. You have completed your mission, if nothing else.” Kolivan’s ever serious visage stared down at them from a bizarrely massive screen. Did it need to be that big? If he had nose hairs Lance would have been able to see them. “Dismissed.”

They were supposed to meet in the rec room after showering and, if needed, a trip to the med bay; A Keith mandate since his team was supposed to set an example that it was normal and good to relax after a mission, but.. was that still okay to do?

Lance probably had some of the best aim in the universe, if he was being honest, but with that aim he had just shot one of his teammates in the head not even an hour ago! The suits obviously had eye protection, but Torat dropped like a rock back in the facility, and they only managed an evac without being seen thanks to Keith’s ridiculous half-galra strength. While he dragged the unconscious Torat, Lance covered them with the rifle, and somehow En and Hedrox finished up on their end without being seen.

They did everything they set out to do, but it really felt like they failed.

The silence was broken with a soft clearing off Hedrox’s throat. “Wellll, I’m beets. Time for a shower, then uhm. Whoever feels like it meet up at the usual spot..?”

En pointedly kept his sharp gaze toward Torat, who did not look up from the ground. Sneering displeasure was evident on his now unmasked face, but he eventually turned to face his horned companion. “…The correct term is being ‘beat’ as in ‘beaten, and exhausted.’” The taller blade pressed his palm to his other set of fingers and stretched his wrists as he began to walk away. “But yes, I shall await you in the showers.” Hedrox jumped comically before slapping En’s arm.

“Don’t say it like that, shh!”

Lance blinked as he watched the two aliens saunter away, with Kestin soon to follow after giving Torat a sympathetic look. How was it Hedrox seemed like the most human out of all of them? Lance felt awkward, and guilty, and didn’t know what to do with himself.

He looked over at Keith, who ripped his furious gaze from Torat and regarded Lance with an unreadable expression. His eyebrows furrowed, and he looked like he wanted to say something; He only shook his head, turned, and marched off, leaving only Lance and Torat remaining in the room. Lance peered up at the blade and saw he couldn’t entirely hide his trembling.

“..Hey man, is your eye.. Did I—hurt it?” He wanted to apologize, even though he knew he’d done the right thing. Keith must have realized the only way to keep Torat from.. killing himself was to knock him unconscious, and he needed Lance’s arm to make sure the job got done correctly. Lance wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but there was still guilt shining through. Above all else, he really didn’t like hurting people.

Torat gave a nearly imperceptible twitch, then brought his large palm over his masked eye. “Bruised, but unruptured. I will be fine, Lieutenant, thank you. Please excuse me.” Quietly, the larger blade nearly tiptoed away through the opposite door of Keith.

Lance wanted to go after him, even if he wasn’t sure what to do or say.

There’d been times back in the castle of lions where he used to catch his teammates sulking alone, or when Silvio was upset and would hide in his garden, and he always went after them to at least make sure they didn’t feel alone. He could only crack stupid jokes, and maybe he annoyed them more than he helped, but it still felt like something he needed to do.

A shower, first, Lance decided. Then, he’d track down Torat and—at least make sure he went to the med bay or something. After that, if there was time, rec room with the others.

He wanted to spend much more time scrubbing the sweat and grime off of his aching body in his shower, but tingling urgency didn’t allow a long stay. Lance popped into his most comfortable hoodie and grey sweatpants, slipped on his sneakers, then began his search.

First, he went to the obvious location, Torat’s room. No one was in, so he went to the med bay next (after signing a few autographs from some fans on the way) and once again did not find his teammate. It was at that point Lance realized that despite how the mission turned out, Torat might have just gone to the rec room. Maybe Keith was trying to foster a more tight-knit team unit thing, but before all that, and even now, Lance was pretty sure death in the Blades was a very common occurrence.

Approaching the hallway connecting to the rec room, a loud slam sent Lance a foot into the air. A sharp cough came from just around the corner before he heard a growl that undoubtedly belonged to Keith. Was he in trouble?!

“—That was the whole reason I even formed this unit in the first place!” Keith hissed, and there was another grunting cough. Lance sidled up against the wall and tried to figure out if he was needed.

“Your work is—ghh—more important than my life, Commander..!” That was Torat’s strained voice. There was some shuffling, and Lance could at least piece together that they were having an argument.

“You don’t get to call me that. My work, is showing the rest of the blades that we can do our job without throwing away our lives for the sake of—knowledge. Understand?! No matter the mission, you keep yourself alive.”

Quiet pulsing buzzing from the blue-tinted lights above hung in the air. “..I-I.. If—this is what you wish, Commander.. I shall.. try.”

A dull thud, then footsteps. “No, you’re off the team. I’m not risking keeping someone on who’s fine with killing themselves if it means the mission succeeds.”

Torat gasped. “Commander, please..! Allow me to stay—I shall make up for my transgressions, this I swear..!”

Should he leave?! Lance felt like he shouldn’t be hearing any of this.

Boots scuffing on the waxy floor. Keith turned back towards him? “Make up for it by staying alive on a different team.” His clipped footsteps faded in the opposite direction. Lance needed to leave, right now. His throat was feeling hot, and it was getting too hard to focus.

He couldn’t help Torat at this point, that was becoming obvious to him.

The muffled sounds of the rec room and even quieter alien cries faded from Lance’s fuzzy mind as he stumbled back into his room and hid under his desk.

Breathe. Deep breaths. In through the nose. Count to—how long? He couldn’t remember. Okay, okay. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t focus. Try to breathe.

Keith flashed into his vision, an impossible view of him in the cockpit of a tiny cruiser as Lance watched him try and fly into the barrier at Naxzela. His death in exchange for the mission succeeding. They never talked about it.

Allura in the Blue lion, about to be killed; A split second decision to trade his life so Voltron could go on with its heart intact.

Keith was a hypocrite.

No! People could change their minds. It had been years since he pulled that stunt. People could change. Lance mushed his soggy face into his palms and shuddered.

Stupidly, all he could think about was how terrifying it was for Keith to be so close when he shot Torat with the stun round. With Keith’s armor, even if he had somehow accidentally missed and hit him, he couldn’t have killed him. There was no way. But his dreams were always so vivid and he was always accidentally killing Keith. To be there next to him in that situation felt—surreal.

Lance managed to get his breathing under control. It took a few minutes, but eventually he calmed, and shuffled over to the bathroom to wash his face.

He thought for a second about going and meeting up with the rest of the team, but shut that thought down almost immediately. Instead, he slipped into his pyjamas and slid into bed.

The empty ceiling greeted him without his familiar stars.

And Lance thought back to Torat, holding the small capsule in front of his chest, ready to ensure the blades could eventually track down and eliminate the remainder of the empire with his tiny sacrifice in the grand scheme of things.

And Lance realized he didn't disagree with Torat's decision.

-

😳👉👈

DID U LIKE....

[milkstoner]

I want to direct your attention towards the fey/human dual identity symbolism in Sebek’s face.

Half of his face is covered by a Briar Valley war mask, and his other half is uncovered. This is an obvious allusion to his dual race… but let’s reflect on the fact that the fey side is a mask, symbolizing Sebek’s obnoxious spectacle of his worship of the fey around him (Lilia, Malleus)… we’re all aware this constitutes a huge compensation for his human half, which he sees as weak.

The uncovered half shows one of his human traits; his round ear. I don’t want to imply here that his “real” facet is the unmasked, human one; that would be a very surface-level analysis, especially since the spectacle of fey worship does not reflect all fey (I truly don’t believe fey all act like he does, lol)… and that loud performance is, in my opinion, his most human trait.

This duality is reflected as well in his preferences.

One preference reflects his fey identity, the other, his personal identity, which doesn’t exactly imply humanity. Or fey. His second preference doesn’t identify itself with either race because his personality goes beyond those boxes.

We might expect a lot of character development for Sebek in the next update as he helps Silver go through his own identity crisis.

[ohtobeleah]

Bruises // Jake Seresin

Chapter Seven: [War Wounds in the Ward]

Summary: When help finally arrives, Jake believes it may be too late. The extent of both your injuries are finally revealed and the both you come face to face with the reality of just how long you’d been held in captivity for.

Series Warnings: Heavy themes of violence, sexual assault, torture. 18+ content. Minors DNI. Mature themes. Being held in captivity. Hostage style situation. Main character death! Whump, Angst. Conversations that discuss antisocial & antisemitism views.

Word Count: 7.4k

Author Note: THIS SERIES IS CONFRONTING, FICTIONAL, AND DEPICTS IMAGES OF TORTURE. DO NOT READ PAST THIS POINT IF YOU BELIEVE THAT THIS SERIES WILL BE DETRIMENTAL TO YOUR MENTAL STABILITY. CURATE YOUR OWN TIMELINE.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“We gotta move.” How this guy got the key to Jake’s cell he’d never know, but what was important was that he had it and he was here now. “We’ve got about ten minutes to get you both out to the medi-vac.” 

You never would have guessed how quickly Jake Seresin could still move in order to put his body on the line for you. At the sight of someone coming into his cell yet again, rescuer or not—he was shielding you with everything he had. No one was touching you, not again. 

Once the man was inside Jake's cell he took a knee to assess your current state. At the mere thought of anyone touching you Jake flinched and held you a little tighter. He wasn’t sure who he could trust, wasn’t sure if this was real or just some cruel joke. Another attempt to shatter any kind of hope. 

“It’s okay Lieutenant, you can let her go.”

“I don’t trust you.” Jake used his body to shield you as much as he could. He was done letting people hurt you, including himself. The man in the dark mask paused, but then in order to gain Jake's trust, he took that mask off, revealing his identity to Jake as he tried to reach out to gauge your pulse. “Please don’t hurt her, she’s been through enough.” 

“I’m not gonna hurt her Jacob.” The man with silver hair and a cocky half smile confirmed. “My name is Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS, I’m gonna get the two of you out of here.”

“Who was the woman, the one who gave me the note?” Jake couldn’t stop thinking about her and her lifeless body. Who was she? How did she get a note from Rooster? How did she know help was coming? There were so many unanswered questions he thought he’d never get answers to. 

“CIA—deep cover agent, she had sent out a coded message around the time the two of you went missing. Descriptions matched, your friend Rooster I believe?” Gibbs was still trying to find your pulse. “Yeah he told her to write a note out, give you something to fight for.” 

“Hold tight, Stay alive—“ Jake repeated to himself just under his breath, the agent who wasn’t happy with how weak your pulse was nodded too. 

“Which is exactly what she’s gonna have to do, let’s get her out of here before it’s too late.” 

“Gibbs!” Another man came racing down the hallway. “Gibbs we gotta move!” He was dressed in the same dark uniform as Gibbs was. “They’re angry as shit, like ants! A hive of angry ants.” 

“I thought I told you to distract and disturb?” 

“Yeah well, change of plans—we gotta get the hell outta dodge, now!” 

Jake wasn’t all that sure who to follow or what to think. He only knew two things for sure, one being he had to get you out of here while he still had a chance too. And two? He couldn’t run. He couldn’t come with you. He was damaged goods. 

“I can’t go.” Jake confessed with a deep sigh as he handed you over to the man who’s just come racing in. He ran his finger down your cheek and tried to hold it together. Was this the last time he was ever going to see you? “She’s in a really bad way, please take care of her, get her out of here.” 

“Lieutenant it’s now or never—“ Gibbs made sure to remind Jake. 

“They put a pacemaker inside my damn chest alright! I can’t let my heart rate get above one forty!” Jake explained as the older man helped him to his feet. “The Commander has a remote control for it too, and I gotta be honest with you, I’m not all that keen on the idea of my heart exploding inside my fucking chest.” 

“The Commanders dead.” Gibbs tried his best to bluff his way through this. He had to get Jake out of here, there was no backup plan. It was now or never and never wasn’t an option. “He’s gone, ain’t got no way to press that button.” DiNozzo knew as a matter of fact that Dennis Gervais was well and truly alive, because he’d just come from the same room that he was in. “So we focus on keeping your heart rate down and get you out of here.” All Jake did was nod as he looked at you just barely breathing, barely holding on for dear life. You’d been through so much—he owed you this much, to try till his dying breath to get you out of this hell. “DiNozzo you take Y/n, I’ll guard Jake here and we’ll get ‘em on the medi-vac before shit gets too out of hand.” 

“On it boss.” Tony acknowledged the plan and knew the risks involved as he bent down to pick you up and pull your nearly lifeless body across his shoulders so that he could carry you. “Okay ma’am, sorry if this hurts a little.” 

“We’re heading down the hall, taking the first left and making a run for the stairs that leads up to the ground floor—it’ll take us right out to the loading bay.” Jake couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Gibbs knew it was going to be a hard pill to swallow as the group started to make their way out of the cell. 

“You mean to tell me there’s been an exit door right down the hall this whole time!!” It made him sick to his stomach. Freeform was right there all along. It made things so much worse knowing it was right there. 

“We’re gonna get you home Lieutenant, just keep in step and don’t look back.” Gibbs commanded as he made sure his weapon was loaded. “Let’s get these two out of here DiNozzo.” 

Jake watched as DiNozzo took off running with you slung across his shoulders. His heart ached on two fronts, one being he knew you were about to be safe, about to be away from all this. The other being he hated whenever you were away from him. When you were with him you were safe in his arms. Apart? He couldn’t help you. 

There were guards slain in the hall from where gunfire had recently rung out, Jake tried his best not to get too caught up but he couldn’t recognise a single soul. None of them he knew from his time trapped. They were just foot soldiers. 

“Take a left DiNozzo!” Anthony corrected his direction promptly as Jake followed, he was being careful to pace himself. He didn’t want the beeping to start, not now. It couldn’t, he was relying on everything he had left inside him to keep it down. To breathe steady, In and out. 

“Right! Sorry!” Gibbs was the last one up the stairs, he was protecting his people, firing the odd shot at anyone who tried to stop them four of them from getting where they needed to go. 

“Jake?” It was the softest of whimpers that escaped from your lips as DiNozzo carried you up the stairs. “Jake?” You mumbled again, only this time a little louder and more confused. “What’s going on?” 

“You’re okay ma’am.” Tony tried his best to calm you before you had a chance to panic. “Jakes right behind me, I’m special agent Anthony DiNozzo with the NCIS.” 

“Oh.” Was all you could say as you dangled over Dinozzo's shoulders. “Oh god someone found us.” It was more like you were trying to convince yourself this was real. “Someone came.” 

“We did ma’am.” DiNozzo confirmed as he opened the latch on the door that led out to the loading dock. “We’re not out of the woods yet though, so just stay with us for a little while longer okay?” When he was finally able to unlock the heavy metal door, DiNozzo was delighted to see the medi-vac choppers coming in for landing. “Over there!” He shouted back at Jake and Gibbs before he took off running with you on his shoulders. 

The sunlight burned Jake's skin as he stepped out into the light. God how long had it been since he’d felt the warmth of the sun on his usually tanned skin. He’d never been this pal, this skinny, this unkempt. 

“There’s someone who wants to speak with you, Lieutenant.” Gibbs smirked as he escorted Jake across the snow and over to the helicopter that would be taking him back to the carrier. He handed him a radio, one of those sat nav ones. 

Jake held it up so he could talk just as five F-18 Super Hornets came racing past to pepper the building with ammunition. It was a full takedown if there ever was one. A covert operation to get you and Jake back. The signal had been given and it was go time. 

“What took you so long?” Jake wasn’t sure who it was going to be, but he knew they were all up there. All cheering that he was alive, that you were alive. That the pair of you were being rescued. Hey did however have a slight inkling as to who might answer. “What the hell has the Calvary been!” 

“Hey Hangman.” Rooster bellowed through the radio as he flew closer to the building just to drop a missile on the southwest corner. “You look good!” Jake couldn’t contain his laughter, this was really happening. 

“I am good, Rooster.” He remembered what he’d said all those years ago. “I’m very good.” Jake sighed as he watched his colleagues and friends dismantle the building you and Jake had been held hostage in for what felt like forever. “Now get us outta here!” 

“We better keep moving, Lieutenant.” Gibbs ushered Jake over to the other medi-vac helicopter, it had all gone according to plan. Jake had kept his heart rate below one twenty as his watch kept telling him. You were being loaded into the other helicopter, strapped to a medical gurney and fitted with oxygen immediately. Jake watched on as the building the four of you had just come out of went up in smoke and flames. Insurgents scurried out for their lives at any exit they could take. “Let’s get these birds in the sky!” 

“Yes sir.” The pilot copied just as Jake saw the man he’d been told was dead appearing out of the smoke, surrounded by insurgents with guns who aimed right for the two medi-vac helicopters. 

“Come on probie help me get her strapped in.” Tony grumbled as he fiddled with the straps around the wheels of the bed you were on. He didn’t want it to budge. “How the hell did you get the easy job anyway!” 

“Easy job!! I’ve been out here for ten minutes fending off enemy fire!” 

“I thought you said he was dead!?” Jake hissed as he eyed off the man who’d put you both through hell. He couldn’t help but to say as he thought about making a break from the helicopter just to get his revenge from n the man who’s done so much damage. But he couldn’t, Jake wouldn’t do that as the helicopter began to rise from the snow covered ground. He wasn’t going to, not for any amount of money, you’d told him when the pair of you were first captured to never play the hero again—but Jake was a villain. A hero would sacrifice anything for the greater good. He’d see anything ax expendable. 

But Jake would walk through fire and cross the seven seas for you, he had no such desire to want to play the hero. He just wanted to be safe again, with you. So knowing you were already safe, there was no reason to go back. There was no reason to want to be a hero. 

“I lied—“ Gibbs sighed as he aimed his weapon. “Get us up in the air!” Jake knew the moment he saw The Commander standing there watching him escape that he wouldn’t let him go without a fight, without causing enough damage that he might not make it out alive. As the helicopters took off you sat up just to watch the group below you get further and further away. 

You were safe. Jake was safe. You were finally getting out of this hell together. And then? Everything you thought you knew came crashing down around you as you watched what appeared to be Jake's lifeless body fall out of the side of the medi-vac helicopter. No. Not now, not after everything you'd been through. 

“NNOOOOO!” You cried out from behind the oxygen mask you'd been given. “JAKE!!”

Jake first fell to his knees as his hand gripped at his chest. The pain was all too real, too overpowering for him to stay steady on his feet. The Commander stood grinning ear to ear as he watched Jake fall out of the Medi-vac that was in the process of taking off. It would have been a solid hundred metres give or take a few. But it was surely enough to break Jake's jaw on impact. 

“You’re not going anywhere Seresin!” The Commander growled as he and his men ascended on Jake. Two of them pulled him harshly up by his forearms as they forced Jake to look up at the very man who had caused so many people so much pain. “Your girl might get out, but you–you won't ever see the light of day ever again. 

“Take us back to the carrier!” DiNozzo ordered the pilot who had carried on his way. You were in complete hysterics. You couldn't leave, not without Jake. 

“WE HAVE TO GO BACK!” With all your might you were trying to get up off the bed. “WE CAN'T LEAVE HIM!” You felt like you couldn't breathe, Jake had been your rock this whole time. You'd seen the worst in people but also seen the best in him. You couldn't leave him behind, you couldn’t betray him when he never once let you give up. 

“Ma’am, Ma’am you need to try and relax alright, Gibbs will figure it out.” Tony reassured you just hoping that his boss could pull something together. “We’re not going to leave him here, but we need to get you back to people who can help keep you alive.” 

“I’m gonna kill you, I’m gonna kill you dead just because I can and for what it's worth? Your name will be forgotten once we are one word and one people, Jacob.” It was the worst kind of pain, a pain unparalleled to no other, the kind of pain that takes your breath away. That kind of pain that stops blood in its tracks, that shortens ligaments and tendons as you seize. “If only you’d just stayed the fuck away.” The Commander spat as he stopped Jake's heart, he fried the pacemaker in his chest past the breaking point and when his finger finally came off the little button in his hand: Jake was just thankful to have gotten to hear you say you loved him. Even if you only said it back to even the playing cards. 

Jake knew you could never love him. Not after this, not after you’d gone through unspeakable agony all because of a split second decision he made. 

“You’re not, you’re not going to win this.” Jake struggled out as he looked up at The Commander. “Dennis—“ That struck a raw nerve as The Commander reached for a handgun one of his men held. He wasted not a single second before peppering three rounds into Jake's gut. 

“Maybe, but you won’t be around to see the outcome.” 

Jake Seresin laid dying in the snow surrounded by insurgents as five F-18 Super Hornets laid waist into the building you'd both been held captive in—destroying every crevice, every brick. But ultimately it was just a little too late. You’d be okay though, you had to be. Jake had to believe that as his blood stained the China white snow he laid in. 

The expected was always easier to accept than the unexpected. 

“Everybody get to the evacuation points, if you see anyone you don’t trust? Kill them.” Jake could hear The Commander ordering his men before he kicked the heel of his boot into Jake's face. “Goodbye Lieutenant Seresin—you really did your country proud.” The condescending tone in The Commander’s voice really drove it home that all this had been for nothing. He was going to die, killed in action his final report would say. 

The last thing Jake thought about as he laid in the snow watching as the medi-vac helicopters flew away, one of which had you finally safe on, was that he hoped you went on to live a beautiful life. Got back on your feet, healed from everything you were subjected to, went on to love and experience all the good the world had to offer. He thought about what kind of guy would be so lucky to marry you, have a life with you, raise your children, and watch you thrive. Because it wouldn’t be him. He was okay with that though because you were safe now, Jake Seresin was okay with dying so long as it meant you got the help you needed, that you deserved. 

“I love you.” 

Because you weren’t ever expendable. Not to him. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

People have scars in all sorts of unexpected places. Like secret road maps of their own personal history. Diagrams of all their old wounds. Most old wounds heal, leaving nothing behind but a scar, but some of them don't. Some wounds you carry with you everywhere, and although the cuts are long gone: the pain still lingers. 

“Where's Jake?” It was the only thing you could say as you fought off unconsciousness. “Where's Jake? Where is he?” 

“Lieutenant Y/l/n we need to get you into medical so we can start you on IV fluids and antibiotics–” It was a voice you didn't recognise that replied to you as you were being wheeled off the medi-vac and onto the deck of the carrier. “Someone let the Swaine know we’re on route!” 

“Where's Jake?” Why wasn’t anyone listening, why wasn’t anyone answering you? “Please someone tell me he’s okay, that he’s alive? Please?”

It truly was a spectacle on the deck, but in all the commotion of your big arrival no one was listening to what you were mumbling behind your oxygen mask. No one except for one sandy blonde aviator who was pushing past every person he had to in order to get to your side as they wheeled you across the runway. He’d barely shut off his F-18 before he was racing down the tarmac after you. 

“Hey!” Bradley beamed as he reached your side, his hand slipped into your as he walked with the team who were in charge of getting you where you needed to go. “Hey, Hollywood, holy shit–” He couldn't believe you were alive, sure none of them had ever given up hope and from the fleeting information they had been given during your time in captivity, he hoped that CIA agent was still alive, but still he couldn't believe you were actually back. It had been so long. “You’re safe now, we’ve got you.” 

“WHERES JAKE!” It came out as an agonising scream until Rooster could see your tears. “Where is he Bradshaw?” As far as Bradley was aware Jake's rescue Evac was still in the process. He’d fallen and that's all Bradley knew for sure. 

“He’s right behind you, they got him Hollywood, you don't have to worry anymore.” DiNozzo, the Special Agent in charge of escorting you back to medical, looked at the aviator across the gurney from him. He knew that Jake was still yet to be evacuated. He was still on the ground the last Tony saw. “You can rest now, it's alright, Jakes right behind you.” 

“Oh–” You sighed as your entire body relaxed, it was a weight you didn't realise was compressing your chest. “Oh good.” It was only then did your body allow you to go into complete rest. You fell into unconsciousness seconds after being told that Jake was okay, he was coming, that he was right behind you. 

“We’re losing her, we gotta move.” One of the officers informed Bradley as he stood still, watching as you were wheeled into the carrier. Not knowing if you were actually going to make it out of this hell alive. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

Jake swore the chill of the snow would take him before his heart gave out. He couldn’t move a single muscle as he laid there on his back in the silence—only burning rubble seemed to break through the deafening silence of his last moments on earth. 

He thought about you, the entire time. How your laugh would fill up the Hard Deck and how he’d roll his eyes in response. It was stupid really but Jake honestly thought if he didn’t get involved with you personally it would be easier to forget about the way you made him feel whenever you walked into a room. 

“Y/n.” Your name sounded so familiar to him, so alluring and all consuming. “Y/n.” It brought him comfort in death. To whisper your name to himself as his life drained from him. “Y/n.” 

“Not Y/n—“ Gibbs groaned as he pressed gauze into Jake's stomach and moved his hands to cover it. “Keep your hands on that.” He told Jake with a hushed tone, like he was trying to keep quiet. “Lift on three, one, two—three.” 

“AAHHH!” Jake couldn’t help the agonising whelp that escaped his mouth as he was lifted up onto a stretcher. Had they come back for him? Surely not—at this point he was dead weight. Why on earth would they turn back for him? 

“Get him on that medi-vac now!” Gibbs ordered as he stood and looked around, it seemed as though The Commander had been able to flee with a handful of insurgents. “Stop the bleeding as fast as you can.” 

What's worse? New wounds which are so horribly painful or old wounds that should have healed years ago and never did? Maybe old wounds teach you something, maybe they remind you of where you've been and what you’ve overcome. They teach you lessons about what to avoid in the future. 

That's what Jake liked to think. Because as he let his head rest back against the stretcher and thought about how beautiful the embers of that god awful building were, he couldn't wait for these new wounds to become valuable lessons that didn't hurt as bad as they did now. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

Every cell in the human body regenerates on average every seven years. Like snakes, we shed our skin. Biologically, we’re brand new people. It's imperative, change that is. You might look the same, you probably feel the same, but the change isn't visible. At least not for most people. 

“She’s waking up—“ You barely heard it, the husk of a familiar voice that came from beyond the darkness. “Do you want me to leave?” 

When people say things like ‘People don't change’ It drives scientists crazy, because change is literally the only constant in all of science. Energy. Matter. It's always changing. Morphing. Merging. Growing. Dying. It's the way people try not to change that's unnatural. 

“No kid, no—“ Again, another familiar voice echoed beyond the darkness as you were brought back into the light. A steady beeping droned in the background monitoring your vitals. “You stay, I’ll go check on how Lieutenant Seresin is doing after surgery.” 

The way people cling to what things were instead of letting them be what they are. The way you cling to old memories instead of forming new ones can be just as damaging as trying not to evolve. The way people insist on believing, despite every scientific indication that anything in this lifetime is permanent. 

“Okay, yeah—let me know how he is?” Bradley asked as your dad, Commander ‘Hollywood’ Neven, tapped his shoulder as he sat by your bedside. Watching over you as you recovered from what had been some of the most extensive and exhausting surgeries Rooster had ever seen. 

His mother had had a few operations in her battle with Cancer—but none of which came close to what he was told you were going through. 

From the complete orthopedic reconstruction on your shattered wrist to the skin graft on your lower back, to the plastic surgery repair made to damage done on your face. Some scars would remain—but your surgeon was pretty hopeful that the swelling would go down. It made Roosters heart break. 

“Roo—“ It was the first thing you managed to struggle out. Your throat was so dry as you tilted your head to the side just slightly to see him better. “Hi.” The light hurt your eyes, in a way it felt good to be out of the dark. 

“Hey Hollywood.” Bradley smiled as he reached out to grab your hand. “Tell you what you know how to scare us, don't you?” You couldn't help the oh so soft smile that crept across your face when you realised you were home, that you were finally safe. “How you feeling?” 

“Uh–” You didn't know what to say. Your entire body ached for various different reasons all the more painful to describe than the last. You were a plethora of injuries, a thesaurus of unspeakable acts of violence. And even though there wasn't a part of you that didn’t hurt, all your mind could think about was Jake. So you lied. You lied straight through your teeth. “I'm okay.” Bradley didn't believe it, not for a second. He had seen the state you were in when they airlifted you back to the carrier. And it seemed as though your number one priority hadn’t changed. “Where's Jake? Is he okay?” 

“Hangman's–” You interrupted Bradley quicker than he could explain Jake's current status. 

“I asked where Jake was Rooster, Hangman isn't Jake.” The man who had done everything he could to protect you wasn't Hangman. He was simply Jake. “So please, just tell me Jakes alive?” Bradley complied with your very specific request and told you what you wanted to hear first. 

“Jakes alive.” He nodded. “But he's critical, he's been in and out of surgery for a few days Y/n.” Rooster had collected a series of coffee cups on the table in your hospital room, ranging in size and kind. He must have been here with you for a while. “Your dads seeing to it that he gets the best care.” 

“How long have I been out?” You asked next, everything was blurry. You could remember bits and pieces of being rescued, but not many. You could hear the sound of the helicopter blades in your head, but faces were all distorted in your memory. You could remember Jake holding you, his warmth protecting you from all harm, but then you saw him fall. He fell. Over and over in your mind you watched Jake fall and then you heard your pain filled cries of pure heartbreak. “How long has it been?” 

“Since we got back here, a few days–you've been on some pretty strong painkillers and the doctors just kept telling me you'd wake up when your body was ready.” It was nice to fill in the gaps. But there was one gap you weren't sure if you wanted to fill. 

“And how long were Jake and I, you know, held for?” Bradley wasn't sure if he should be the one to tell you, but then again, if you wanted anyone else to tell you, you would have waited to ask them and not him. So he told you, point blank. 

“Almost Three months.” 

“Oh god.” Change is constant, how you experience change, that's up to you. “No, No no no it cant have been three whole months Rooster.” It can feel like death, or it can feel like a second chance at life if you open your fingers, loosen your grip and go with it, it can feel like pure adrenaline. 

“Y/n?” Bradley frowned when he heard your heart rate monitor start to beep at a faster rate than the machine was comfortable with. “Are you okay?” You felt like you couldn’t breathe as your brain tried to process the harsh reality that you and Jake had been held prisoners for three whole months. Your airways were tightening, like someone had their hands around your neck and was squeezing, holding you down, choking you. “Hey! Hey, I need someone in here! Nurse!” Bradley jumped up to his feet and hit the panic button as you began to cry, panicking as your body didn't feel like your own. 

“Oh god, I can't breathe!” You cried out. “Rooster, help!” Like at any moment you can have another chance at life. Like at any moment, you can be born all over again. Or die from the pure weight of it all. 

“She's having a panic attack or something.” Rooster explained to the nurses who were first into the room. “I don't know what to do.” 

“It's the Asthma, sir.” One of the nurses explained. “She needs ventolin.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“You gotta wake up for me.” An induced coma, that's what the doctors had told you. That's what they said Jake needed in order to heal. In their words, his injuries were extensive, critical and very much life threatening. But while you watched Jake breathe through tubes and held his hand just to let him know you were there, you had to believe that he was going to be okay. That he’d pull through and you'd get to see his smile again. 

“You don't get to leave me now you son of a bitch do you hear me?” You leaned in to whisper in his ear. “I'll be so pissed if you leave me here.” You snarled right in his ear so that he could hear you. “I'll come and find you in the afterlife and when I get there? I'll rain hell down on you for all eternity.” You weren't expecting a reply, not with Jake being in an induced coma and all. The tubes alone would have stopped him from replying even if he was awake. “Please wake up soon, I really miss you.” With your good hand, you gently ran your palm up his forehead and moved the hair that had fallen across his face away. The bruises were dark and extensive, but Jake was still there under it all. Under all the swollen and bruised skin and bone. Jake was still there. Your Jake was still fighting with everything he had. “I love you, please don't leave me.” 

You sat back in your chair, the one you had been in since you were able to leave your own room during the day and visit Jake. You had to take your IV pole with you though, it was a non negotiable. You had to stay hooked up to antibiotics to fight off the infection in your lungs. It hurt to breathe, so the oxygen tank came too. 

“How are we doing today Kiddo?” You dad asked as he came to visit you like he did every day. He, like all the other aviators that came to visit you and Jake, had gotten used to finding you up in Jake's room up in the intensive care ward. 

“My lungs are on fire but it beats the alternative.” You only took your eyes off Jake for a second to acknowledge your father, who so far, hadn’t pried too deep into finding out details of your imprisonment. You knew he'd have to take off the farther figure hat and replace it with his Commander of the pacific fleet hat soon enough. “The doctors said they’re happy with Jake's stats, said he might be able to come out of the coma soon.”

“That's good to hear sweetheart.” Your dad replied as he stood at the end of Jake's hospital bed, eyes off the man who had kept you alive from what he could tell. “I've uh, i've organised for you to speak to someone, someone who might be able to help you start to process what you went through.” 

“I'm not interested.” It was as dismissive as it could be. You had no intention of leaving Jake's side for any longer than you had to. You didn't want to talk to anyone about any of it, they wouldn't understand and you certainly had no desire to explain all your trauma to a complete stranger. “With all due respect, dad, I don't have any intention of returning to active duty, so a therapist signing off on a clearance form that I’m mentally capable of returning to work, isn't needed.” You added the explanation at the end without so much as looking at your dad. You had a sinking feeling in your gut the more you thought about it. The more you were told about the people you had been tasked to take down. To dismantle. 

“Baby girl.” Your dad tried to reason with you as a father and as Commander. “You are a highly skilled weapons system officer, the Navy cannot afford to lose you.” 

“But yet I wasn't good enough to not be labelled as expendable huh?” The room was cold, but your heart was colder now more than ever before. It made sense but at the same time it didn't. Why? Why would the man you looked up to, respected so much–do this to you? 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Did you know that I was sent on this mission? Why I was chosen over Bob and Fanboy, two highly skilled, highly decorated WSO that Jake already worked with and had worked with for years?” Your dad was silent. Of course he knew, he had to have known considering the stakes of the mission. It just hadnt crossed your mind until you were sitting at that dining table with The Commander being told details you weren’t privy to prior to your file being selected. 

“I–” There was nothing your dad could say to change your mind about the situation. He knew, he had betrayed you. 

“I almost died, dad.” You barely spoke above a whisper all the while you kept your eyes on Jake's face. “And you signed off on this mission, knowing that we were going in blind with half a file that contained only basic information.” 

“We knew you were capable.” Your dad was firm with you, like a Commander would be. “I knew you were ready for this, and I knew you were capable of understanding the risks involved—none of us banked on Seresin not knowing how to let go.” So it was true. They all believed the same thing, that if push came to shove Jake would save himself, not his WSO, not his Wingman. No one. 

“You used me as collateral in case it didn't go according to plan!” 

“Darling, you cannot blame me for what happened—I signed off on the mission file, the admirals were given recommendations, your name and file happened to be one of many.” 

“I need you to leave!” You snapped with tears streaming down your cheeks. Now more than ever you wished Jake would just wake up. “I need you to leave and I need you to understand that I don’t have any intention of talking to any therapist or physician or anyone!” It was then you took your hand out of Jakes to pick up one of the empty coffee cups on Jakes bedside table, one of the many you had begun to collect, and threw it at your dad. “Get out!” 

He did. He did what you asked without a fight, knowing the consequences of his actions along with many others would come back to bite him. You and Jake were not letting this slide, not in a million years. 

“Where is it?” You mumbled to yourself as you fumbled around your pockets for your inhaler. You didn’t understand the panic induced asthma yet, but you had been told how to manage it. “Where is it?” When you finally found the little red inhaler in the pocket of your hoodie, you took a single hit of the ventolin and tried to calm down. 

“Miss Y/l/n, are you staying for morning rounds?” One of the doctors who had been looking after Jake asked as he came into the room. Followed by his interns. 

“Yes please—“ You sighed as you got comfortable and reached out for Jake’s hand again. “And for the love of god Doc tell me you’re gonna wake him up soon?” 

All he did was smile in return before looking over to one of his interns. A young female who looked all the more surprised that she was being called upon to present.” 

“Uh this is Lieutenant Jacob Seresin, sustained three gunshot wounds to the middle abdomen that resulted in severe blood loss, major cardiac trauma resulting in a heart attack that left his right aorta damaged.” It was nothing you hadn’t heard before, could probably resight it all yourself by now you’d heard it so many times. “A broken mandible as a result from falling one hundred meters and multiple other injuries ranging from minor to major abrasions, bruises and laceration that all seem to be on the mend.” Hearing it every day didn’t get any easier. Until the last part that put fresh hope in your heart. You hadn’t heard that part before today. 

“Due to be slowly woken from an induced coma as of today.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“Today could be the day Y/n.” The first twenty four hours after surgery are critical. Every breath you take, every fluid you make, is meticulously recorded and analysed, celebrated or mourned. But what about the next twenty four hours? “You just have to remember that both of you went through hell, his body needs time.” Phoenix had brought your flowers. A kind gesture that put a sparkle in your eye for only a few minutes. You were back at Jake's bedside, curled up under a blanket in your chair with your IV poll still at your side. “You need time.”

“I just really need him to wake up—“ But what happens when that first day turns into two, three and four and then those days turn into weeks and possibly turn into months? “I’m starting to lose my mind—the longer he sleeps the more time I have to convince myself that they won.” You explained to Phoenix who fluttered about Jake's ICU ward room. Tidying up, making sure you had company. “That they broke him, me.” 

“They apparently picked the guy up on the coast of Positano—“ It wasn’t the first time you’d heard it but it still felt so surreal to hear. “And that CIA lady's body was recovered a few days after you were rescued.” You’d never met her, but Jake had. The CIA and the NCIS were working together to get this guy long before you were assigned your mission. “So was Captain Hewens.” Phoenix made sure to remind you. “I don’t think he won Hollywood—if he won I don’t think you’d be sitting here.” 

“He didn’t win.” The goal of any surgery is total recovery. To come out better than you were before. But for you and Jake? There was no certainty that the two of you could ever go back to the people you were before. “Ain’t no way he won.” Jake mumbled as he stirred slightly, his hand gripped yours back for the first time since you were able to visit. “He didn’t win—this is nothing I can’t handle.” 

“Oh my god Jake! You’re awake!?” You cried as you got as close to him as you possibly could. “Hi, hey I’m right here yeah? You’re gonna be okay.” 

“I love you—“ Jake needed to say that. He needed you to know. “You’re okay? I’m not dead am I?” 

“No, no you're not dead Jake.” You couldn’t help but to chuckle with utter relief. “You’ll know we’re dead, remember? when it’s just us, on a farm somewhere in the middle of nowhere, just the two of us.” You whispered as you pushed his hair up and away from his forehead. 

“Count me in for that version of heaven.” He’d barely opened his eyes, but Jake had missed your smile oh so much. He would do anything to see it, like a damn fool head over heels in love, he’d do anything. “So we made it? We’re out?” 

“We’re out, we’re home and we’re safe.” Some patients heal quickly and feel immediate relief. For others, the healing happens gradually and it's not until months or even years later that you realise that you don't hurt anymore. “You saved my life Jake Seresin—you never left me hanging.” 

“I’ll leave you two alone for a little while.” Phoenix politely excused herself to go check in with the nurses station about notifying a doctor that Jake was awake. You appreciated it—because now that he was awake you weren’t leaving his side. 

“Are you okay?” Jake asked as he just tried to focus on breathing. When he was finally able to open his eyes they were in you and never left. “Woah, I kinda forgot what you looked like without the dirt and grim, you’re beautiful.” 

“Apparently I’ve got a pretty serious infection in my lungs that gives me asthma attacks when I get worked up but other than that I think I’m okay.” You explain knowing Jake would honestly want you to tell the truth rather than just say you were okay. “And the last thing my body was focused on was maintaining its cycle so I lost my period.” Jake knew why you were mentioning it. “Guess my body just knew what it had to do and not drop any eggs.” Jake squeezed your hand a little tighter and brought your palm up to his lips. “So no need to abort any insurgent fetuses.”

“How long?” You’d asked Rooster the same question, it ended in a panic attack. But again—if Jake wanted to know from anyone else he would have asked them and not you. “How long were we in there for?” 

“Almost Three Months.” So the challenge after every surgery is to be patient. But if you can make it through the first few weeks and months? If you believe that healing is possible–then you can get your life back.

“Guess we’re gonna be pretty messed up for a while aren’t we?” Jake sighed as he fought back tears, this was hell on earth. His entire body hurt but not nearly as much as his heart ached looking at you with his head full of your screams. “But I’m so glad you’re alive.” 

“I’m really thankful you’re alive too.” But that's a big if. “And I know that isnt gonna be easy, it’s gonna really hurt—and be really hard, we’re gonna have to work at this everyday.” You were trying to keep yourself together for Jake’s sake as you let your hand squeeze against his. “But I want to do that because I want you.” 

“You sure about that hotshot?” Jake breathed in softly as his heart beat steady without any doubt that you were the love of his life. “I’m the one who got you into that mess in the first place.” When you nodded softly as tears fell freely down your cheeks, Jake knew one day he’d ask you to marry him. 

“I want all of you, forever, you and me, everyday.” You added, but then there was the pause Jake was waiting for. He knew it was coming because he was thinking the same damn thing. “But we have to heal first, recover—I think the worst thing we could do for each other would be to go into a relationship when we’re literally being held together by glue and some staples.” 

“Can we recover together? But unofficially?” Jake smiled softly as he reached out to cup your still bruised cheek. “Because I unofficially love you, and unofficially I think that I’m not going anywhere.” You let out a laugh, a laugh so pure it brought Jake back to life. He needed nothing but you, forever. 

“Unofficially that sounds like a pretty good idea.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

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[the-whispers-of-death]

Reader is male & his hair is described to be long enough to reach his nape (will be explained why in the Drabble). I just made up kingdom names. Part One, Part Two TW: Blood, Gore, Death

**

You were standing in the middle of a battlefield, your horse most likely one of the horses that were running away from all of you. You were swinging your sword, wielding it with skill that took years of war to perfect.

Enemies and your own soldiers were falling down all around you, but you focused on the enemy king. The king of Loria, a stocky fellow who thought it was a good idea to try and invade your kingdom, Eridies. You've long forgotten his name, but it didn't matter.

All that mattered was that you were not going to die today. Your kingdom wasn't going to fall into his greedy, blood-soaked hands.

You sliced through the enemy soldiers who stood in between you and your foe, blood splashing on your armored uniform and your face but you pushed past all of that. Rage filled your veins as you made your way through, drawing closer and closer to the enemy king with each step you took.

"King {Name}, I'm surprised you graced us with your presence," the king sneered at you. He was slicing through your own soldiers to get to you. "I thought the reigning royals of Eridies didn't step onto a battlefield ever since your great-great-grandmother. Are you cocky enough to die by my hand?"

You didn't deign him a response, merely snarling like an enraged wolf. You lunged forward, swinging your sword. Unfortunately for you, he parried your blow and swung his own sword to quickly try and overwhelm you.

It was working, your heels trying to dig into the blood-soaked dirt as you got pushed back with each blow you parried. You kept trying to land a hit, your teeth gritted.

The king managed to unarm you of your sword, your eyes watching as it flew out of your hands and drop so far away to the side that you couldn't reach it. Knowing that you didn't have time to dive for it, the king grinned wickedly beneath his helmet as he raised his sword, aiming for your head.

"My king."

Your eyes shot open, shaking you awake from your nightmare as you sat up. One of your hands reached up to feel the hair that was growing to your nape, your hair being able to be long again since the war was over and long hair was a symbol of peace in your culture.

The war was over, you had killed the king of Loria. The war was over, you had killed the king of Loria.

Taking a deep breath to calm your racing heart, you turned your head slightly to look at the man who had woken you up. Your most trusted knight in your personal guard, one who had been with you for years.

A man most people knew as Ghost, though you knew his true name: Simon.

He wasn't wearing his signature white skull mask, only his black balaclava. He didn't even have his armor on, probably because he had been dismissed by you for the day, which meant one of the knights on the night shift had woken him up to attend to you.

"Ghost," you murmured, using his nickname since you didn't know if the knights outside were listening or not. "Why are you awake?"

Ghost, who was hovering nearby, kneeled down at your bedside. "One of the knights guarding your bedchambers woke me up, said you were whimpering. She figured that you'd appreciate it if I woke you up."

Well, that was embarrassing.

Not that you were woken up by Ghost, but rather that a knight of yours heard you whimpering in your sleep. You were a king, you didn't have the luxury of appearing weak to your subjects.

Though you suppose, being vulnerable among Ghost as your only audience was okay. He was loyal, though you never knew if it was to you or the throne, but he had seen you be vulnerable before and hadn't decided to stage a coup. So you figured you could trust him.

You ran a hand down your face as you sighed. "Had a nightmare," you said softly. "About the last battle of the war."

"You're alive, my king," Ghost replied, his gloved hand hovering in the air like he was contemplating giving you physical comfort. His hand fell to his side shortly after. "You killed King Tresniar of Loria. You won the war."

Ah, so that was what the king's name was. You probably should've remembered it, considering you're the reason Loria was in power vacuum. Perhaps you should've conquered the kingdom fully and merged it with yours.

"You're right, my dear knight." You sighed again, laying back down and getting comfortable beneath your blankets. "I should go back to sleep, both of us should."

Ghost nodded, standing up. But he didn't leave, he walked over to the wall and stood there, facing your bed. "I will stay for a while, my king. To make sure your dreams don't turn into nightmares. Sleep well, I will protect you. I swear upon it."

Hearing your most trusted knight swear to protect you made you relax, your eyes closing.

Ghost stared at your sleeping face, resolving himself to stay by your side for at least an hour before he retreated to his own bedchambers. His brown eyes softened at the sight of your chest rising and falling, a sign that you were peacefully at sleep.

Most of the other knights thought he was loyal only to the throne. The throne meant nothing to him, only that you were sat upon it. And he desperately tried to tell himself it was simply because you were a good king.

He couldn't fall in love with you, he couldn't. But he was, even if he didn't admit it.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)