#That's why she shouted him out. He's a friend and his gift nudged her creativity. No one be weird about it. 🔪🔪🔪

[radioconstructed]

⌖ Thank you @ruddygore for the hoodie! This one's for you!

[push / closer to fine]

[dandelionflower]

Felinette Month Day 22

Tattoo Artist

This wasn’t what she had planned on.

From six years old Marinette knew, she just knew that she was going to be a fashion designer. She was going to own a little boutique and make clothes until she retired.

She hadn’t actually planned on being anything else, much less a tattoo artist. But it fit her. She got to be creative, and change the way people looked, so it was kind of like a fashion designer. Right?

Nevertheless, she was happy with her job. She had a new array of customers every day, despite what Lila (ugh) was trying to do, and she was really fulfilled in what she did.

Also, it didn’t hurt that the cute flower shop owner worked right across the street.

When she met Felix, she was stunned. He looked just like a flower himself, beautiful, delicate, natural. So she hadn’t minded taking the chance and giving him her number. She didn’t really buy flowers, so if she crashed and burned it wouldn’t really matter.

Except, he said yes. They had a date set in two weeks, Felix said it would have been sooner but he needed to set up and get comfortable in his new business before doing anything remotely enjoyable.

That didn’t stop her from coming by around lunch time to offer snacks and a friendly ear.

They spent their lunches talking about their jobs, how they never really expected to be in the businesses they are. Felix’s was the result of a new hobby when he was young that took over his life. He laughed when he heard that Marinette just took a wrong turn in her college and ended up in different classes.

They were good friends now, so Marinette decided not to mind when little flowers showed up on her counter tops at work.

The bell rang and Nadia Chamak walked in, leading little Manon behind her.

Nadia was one of her best customers, she was working on a full sleeve, but didn’t have the money so was just going bit by bit. She hadn’t met Manon but Nadia told her so much about her that she felt she knew her already.

“Come see, sweetie.” Manon peeked our from behind her mother’s leg. “This is where I get my tattoos.”

Her eyes bulged. “This is where the pictures come from?” She dashed up to Marinette. “Can I get pictures too?”

“Not unless your mom says you can.” She knelt down. “But maybe you could help me pick out my next tattoo.” She gestured to a blank spot on her right arm. “What do you think?”

“Thank you, but my mommy said I get to pick out her tattoos today.”

“Okay. And what did you pick?”

“I picked this!” She held up a piece of paper with a clumsily drawn butterfly on it. “I drew it all by myself.”

Nadia laughed nervously. “I wasn’t sure if I should, considering Hawkmoth and recent events...”

“No, it’s great.” Marinette replied earnestly. “Honestly, I feel like more people should be getting butterfly tattoos, so they can be positive again and not just the negative symbol they’ve become.”

“That’s what I said!” Manon preened.

“Well, we’ve got our drawing, and we’ve got our canvas, so let’s get started.”

As it turned out, tattooing a human being is a very slow, arduous process. Marinette learned to be patient, but as it seems, Manon was not all that enraptured at her mothers arm being tattooed as she was when the process began.

“Mommyyy! I’m bored.”

“Your tablet is in my bag if you want it, but I’m not done yet.”

“But mommyyy...”

The bell rang again, signaling that Felix had come in to see how the flowers he gifted her were coming along.

“Hey Felix!” She didn’t look up.

“Hello, don’t let me bother you.”

Manon perked up at the sight of another human being and ran to him.

“What are you doing? Why are you touching those flowers? Marinette,” she called, “this guy is touching your flowers!”

“He’s a florist. He’s the one who got me those flowers.”

She gasped. “You’re a flower person?”

He chuckled. “Yes, I am. I make special bouquets and flower crowns out of flowers I grow all on my own.”

“Flower crowns? I want a flower crown!”

Nadia laughed and shouted to Felix. “Go ahead! It’s on me, as long as she checks in.”

The bell rang, signaling their leave as Manon took her tablet to go make flower crowns, promising to text Nadia every once and a while.

“So, friend of yours or boyfriend of yours?” She gave Marinette a knowing smile.

“Ah, a bit of both, actually. We have a date next week, but we’ve been getting to know each other for a little while.”

“Oh? And are you liking what you know?”

“So far, yeah. He’s really sweet and genuine. A bit cold, but he warms up quick.”

“He sounds great, I remember when I met-“ she halted, “Manon’s father. He was so sweet...” her fingers brushed a tattoo of her late husband’s name.

They spent the next half-hour talking about Nadia’s wedding and everything that came before.

The bell rang just as they finished, Manon tearing into the room with a vibrant crown atop her head.

“Mommy! Look at my crown! Isn’t it pretty?”

“Yes it is. Did you make it yourself?”

“No, Mr. Felix made this one, and I made his!” As if called, Felix stepped in, a clumsy crown on his own head. “He said he liked it, and I liked his, so we traded!”

“Oh,” Nadia gasped, nudging Marinette, “he’s a keeper.”

She stared at the man. He had a bright smile and began to talk animatedly about how she could get some sort training for Manon, how she was already very talented, that she made a very impressive crown on her first try. For the first time she really understood why he started working with flowers, why he enjoyed them so much.

Yeah, he really is.

@felinettenovember

[skylarmoon71]

Leonardo x Reader Oneshot TMNT 2014/2016

Disclaimer: I own my love for fanfiction, nothing more. Enjoy!!

"I don't trust you." To say those words didn't hurt would be a blatant lie. Standing in the lair with all four turtles around, you blinked, determined not to show any type of weakness. Leo's eyes were resolute after the statement, and the three other turtles grew quiet. 

It started with Mikey's casual teasing. You were so used to it, so when he joked about Leo having a crush on you because he constantly gave you the cold shoulder, you laughed it off. Mikey's wasn't being serious. But apparently it struck a nerve with Leo.

"Leonardo." Splinter heard it all. You could see the way Leo's jaw was clenched, and all you wanted to do was punch him in his stupid leader face.

"Raph is right, you really are nothing but a jerk!" you pushed up your glasses, turning on your heels as you stormed off. You knew the moment you got back to your room you'd fall apart. But you could save a little face. You just needed to ensure you didn't fall apart in front of him. You wouldn't give him that power.

Leo's mistrust wasn't completely unwarranted. Your meeting with the turtles was fairly unique. It wasn't in an act of heroism. You had in fact tracked them down. Like Donatello, you were very good with computers. A master hacker. Because of your little hobby, it provided a lot of room for snooping. In middle school you hacked NASA, and they were none the wiser. By the beginning of high school, you were hooked up to every police scan and federal cases. Everything and anything that you wanted to know was right at your fingertips.

Being an orphan probably didn't help with your moral compass. As long as you knew it was always about seeking our own self interest. You were now a junior in high school. Being a New Yorker was pretty much the usual. Grumpy people, busy bodies. What wasn't ordinary was alien invasions. It alarmed you when there were metal boxes floating in the streets, panic throughout the city. What pissed you off was the fact that it was never addressed as to what really happened that day. The government provided some half assed excuse, and everyone just accepted it. Determined to get to the bottom of your newest interest, you'd stumbled upon something quite interesting.

A fellow hacker, almost as gifted as you. Not nearly as careful though. At the time you had no idea it was Donnie. You just followed the informational patterns that strangely aligned with all the unexplained incidents that occured in New York. Intrigued, you kept pushing, and even decided to confront the individuals that you were led to. Safe to say four giant mutant turtles were not what you were expecting. After nearly having a heart attack, you finally solved the mystery of the vigilantes.

A very unexpected development emerged from your discovery. You befriended them. Donatello was impressed at your technical skills, and you were even more with him. You were born with the genes basically, probably from your parents, but they were created. He adapted his intelligence all on his own, and to you that was astounding.

Months passed, and you found that being with the turtles and even assisting when you could, you felt like you were a part of something great. Something amazing. You were helping people with your gift, rather than using it for your own means of living. All in all, they seemed to like you. Even Raph who probably was the least trusting of strangers warmed up to you. The only one who held a general dislike for you was apparently Leo. 

Since your meeting was a bit forced, he was weary of you. As time went by you thought that would fade. It wasn't like you would reveal their secret to anyone; they were your friends. At least that's how you saw them. Leo obviously didn't feel the same. Not that you cared. If he wanted to act like a douche then you would let him. If he thought those words would make you run he was wrong. You will be back first thing tomorrow. After you were done crying a little to day that was.

~The Next Day~

"Don't worry too much about Leo. Ya gotta give him time. " Raph nudged you on your seat on the couch as you were beating him in mario kart.

"I'm not worried. It's his fault if he wants to keep that giant stick up his ass." Raph laughed out loud and you joined, adjusting your glasses quickly so you didn't lose your spot on the course. Someone clearing their throat behind you made you drop the control. You didn't have to turn to know who it was. Raph was already standing, flipping over the couch.

He was probably there because it was about that time for them to go on patrol. Raph ruffled your hair with a grin. "See ya later kid, I'll be back to beat ya."

"Hah, maybe in your dreams!" Donatello rushed past, handing you a computer. "Thanks for the codes, the servers are moving a lot faster (Y/N)." you nod. "Sure thing Donnie, anything for a brother hacker." you showed him a peace sign smiling. Mikey was the last to join, swinging his nunchucks. "Who's ready to kick some criminal butt!" he said excitedly. Raph and Donnie just turned, not really acknowledging the younger turtle's antics. "Really? No one." he followed behind still trying to get a word from his brothers. Leo lingered there, and it took you a moment to realize he was staring at you.

You frowned. "Don't worry, I'm not going to burn down your home or anything, so you don't have to keep watch. " you stood, pushing your glasses up your nose, heading in the opposite direction. Leo knew he deserved the hostility. After the conversation with Splinter, he felt like he really understood nothing about his feelings.

~Flashback~

"Did they forget that she basically blackmailed us just to see who we were. Why am I the bad guy." He was more than a little frustrated. Even Raph was lecturing him on his statement that day. Raph of all people.

"Leonardo, she's young, just like you. I believe there is another reason you're conflicted about her."

"What do you mean?" He couldn't understand what Splinter was trying to say.

"Maybe you have learned to see her in another light. And it's difficult for you to understand. So your mind is telling you it's mistrust, but is that what you really feel?" His forehead creased in thought.

"What I really feel." He couldn't come up with a good answer. His encounters with you were never lengthy. He barely acknowledged you on most occasions. But when he did, he found that he was watching, or more like studying what you did. Your intelligence, humor, and those glasses that never seemed to stay perched up on your face. Leo's eyes grew wide.

"Sensei I..."

"You have feelings for her." Leo wanted to swallow his tongue. That couldn't be.

"There is nothing wrong with what you feel, however you need to be more careful with your words. (Y/N), despite her resilience is still very much a child. " Leo was still in a sense of shock. Splinter walked over, patting him on the shoulder. "I know you will find a way to make amends with her. Just be honest." he said nothing else, walking off with his hands folded behind his back.

"How am I supposed to do that." If you disliked him before, you definitely hated him now.

~Flashback end~

Leo released a heavy sigh. It would take a lot to take back those words. Right now, all he wanted was to let you know that he was wrong. It didn't matter if you detested him. He just needed to restore the trust he should have placed in you the moment he realized you cared for his family the same way he did.

~~~

"Mikey check out my costume!!" you were sporting a pikachu onesie. It was halloween after all, and you were more than excited to show off the cute yellow design.

"Pika pika~" you mimicked the sound your favorite Pokémon with a smile.

"You're so cute!" he gushed in a baby voice. You giggled, adjusting your glasses. The parade was about to start and you didn't want to miss it. Since this was one of the few days the turtles could roam around without suspicion, you were overjoyed. It was the first outing you had with them all together outside. You bounced on your feet when Donatello and Raph came from around the corner talking about training most likely. "Come on guys we need to get going!" you urged. Raph placed his hand on your pointed hoodie. "Alright hold ya horses. Leo's coming too." You puffed your cheeks at that.

"Great, the world's greatest killjoy is joining us." You really didn't want Leo's strict attitude on your night of fun.

"Speak of the devil." He was walking with his eyes in a book. When he saw everyone gathered his eyes raised. When they landed on you, he stopped completely. You knew it was stupid, but you blushed, because of the awe in his eyes as he looked at you. Your gaze moved down as you grabbed at the tail of your costume, fiddling with it. "Dummy, why is he looking at me like that!" Leo was the last person you wanted to make your heart beat that way. You weren't even wearing tight clothing either, so why the hell was he staring like you were the prettiest thing he'd ever seen. Leo willed himself to look away, placing his book down.

"She looks so cute." Of course he didn't say it out loud. Regaining his cool, he folded his arms.

"You guys ready."

"Yeah dude we were waiting for you." Mikey reached over picking you up, you were laughing the entire time.

"Onward soldiers!!" he shouted. Raph just tapped him on the head. "Dude!" Donnie rolled his eyes.

"If you guys start fighting Sensei won't let us go." he informed. Mikey made a zipping motion on his lips. Leo watched his brothers marching away with you. And a tinge of jealousy rushed through his body seeing how comfortable you seemed with Mikey.

~~~

Walking through the streets you took in all the creative costumes. Bands were marching, people cheering, bodies jumping and prancing to the music that blared through the speakers. Mikey was a little ways ahead, easily making friends in the crowd of people. He looked so happy. Raph and Donnie's eyes were also trained on Mikey. The content expressed on their faces was really indescribable. They usually gave him a hard time, and you knew it was just how brothers acted with each other. He was the youngest, and you were positive if anyone tried to hurt him, they would protect him in a heartbeat.

"Hey there, are you all alone cutie." you were so distracted that you didn't realize you got partially separated from the others. The male blocking your way annoyed you. Raph and the others were a short way up the street. If you could just get past this guy you could join them.

"Sorry but I'm with my friends. I've got to go." He moved closer to grab your hand, and you were about to recoil when a hand came down and pulled you backwards. You stumble into something firm, and when you look up, blue eyes are glaring at the man before you. "She's taken." the guy raised both his hands with a laugh. "Alright hulk no need to get mad. You should keep a better watch on your girl." He backed up, leaving, falling back into the crowd. When he was gone, those electric eyes moved in your direction. He was still holding unto you.

"T-Thank you Leo." you weren't much of a fighter, and you would hate it if the turtles first outing got ruined because you couldn't stay close. "Be more careful, guys like that are nothing but trouble. I'd hate it if you got hurt."

That was the nicest thing he'd ever really said to you.

Wait a minute.

"What did you mean I'm taken? " you raised a brow. Leo let you go, taking a step back.

"I was just..I didn't want him getting any ideas." He wouldn't look at you. "Sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

"N-No it's okay. I kinda figured as much." Why the hell were you disappointed at his answer. You should know better.

"By the way, you're costume it's..really nice." you flush, fixing your glasses.

"O-Oh! T-Thanks." You must have been dreaming. Another nice statement from Leo. What was the world coming to? The both of you stood there awkwardly for a while, neither sure what to do.

This was the longest conversation you had with Leo that didn't end up with animosity on either side. Your eyes caught his hand that was hanging, and you took it softly in your own. Leo looked up stunned. "S-So we don't get separated again." you clarified. Raph and the others were already a ways ahead. It would have been bad if you got into another little scuffle. So you started moving to them, keeping a soft grip on Leo's hand so he didn't fall behind. You kept your eyes forward, because you knew if you looked at him again, he'd figure out just how happy you were to hold his hand.

If only he knew how you felt.

~~~~

"Ugh! I hate these so much." you sighed heavily, massaging your eyelids. "What's the matter?" you almost jumped, startled by the concern in Leo's voice. Everyone else seemed taken in their own task. Mikey didn't even turn from his game at your small yell. "I-It's really nothing, just a code. It's been stressing me out for the last hour. "

 Leo took a seat next to you on the chair, turning you in his direction. You just watched him, waiting for whatever he was about to do. He smiled, reaching out and removing your glasses. You closed your eyes not really expecting the gesture. "You have to stop for a while and..." when his words started to trail off you were confused. "W-What's wrong?" He looked so dazed, it sort of alarmed you.

"It's nothing, it's just your eyes...they're beautiful." he muttered.

"Oh boy."

Since the Halloween party, Leo was being especially nice to you. Now that you thought about it, he'd been doing it way before that.

"You're beautiful.." He was very careful not to voice that, still, he could think it. Because it was true. To him you were breathtaking, his only regret was that he'd didn't figure out his feelings before. Maybe now it wouldn't have been so hard for him to be honest about how he felt.

Your eyes were staring in shock, your mouth slightly agape.

"Did you just...call me beautiful." Leo paused.

"W-What?"

"You said...you said that I'm beautiful." surely you didn't imagine those words coming from his mouth. What was really going on here. Of course you were overjoyed. But didn't he still not trust you? Why was he saying these things, looking at you the way he did. Leo stood in ample time, and before you could get another word in he was leaving hurriedly.

"I-I have to go." He didn't offer an explanation, just bolted like his life depended on it. You sat there, flustered and maybe even a little irritated.

"Why the heck is he pulling me in so many directions."

One day he's telling you to your face that he doesn't trust you, then the next he's looking out for you, complimenting you. It was driving you crazy.

"I hate boys." you groaned.

~~~~

The soft knock on his door had his eyes lifting. He stopped momentarily attending to his bonsai tree. When the door opened, his heart staggered for a fleeting second. You walked in, shutting it. Your hands were behind your back, and you could barely hold eye contact with him. Leo wasn't much better. He placed down the small clippers, shifting on his feet. "Is there something wrong?" he asked, concerned about the surprise visit.

"Y-Yes actually." you needed to get a handle on whatever this crazy thing was between the both of you.

"Why have you been acting so weird with me. I know the both of us we've never really been on the best terms. And I guess I don't help that much. But you're the same. You say things to me to piss me off and I get so agitated! " You were shouting, and Leo's head lowered.

"Then you act so sweet and kind out of nowhere and it completely messes me up because I can't read you at all. Do you hate me or not!"

"I could never hate you (Y/N)." That simple statement the way he said it, the look on his face. It struck you right in the heart.

"Why do you do that.." you lips quivered, and you took a step forward, Leo didn't expect to see the tears that were gathering in your eyes.

"Stop giving me hope and then tearing it from me. Y-You have no idea how I feel about you.." Damn it, your intention was never to break down in front of him. Leo clenched his fists, and you raised your hands to wipe away your tears. When you heard him walking towards you, everything in your body stilled. Leo's hand rested on your cheek, and you opened your mouth to say more, but Leo stole whatever words you had prepared. Standing there wide eyed, you could barely believe the feeling of his lips pressed softly to your own. Because of the height difference. He had to lean down slightly. When he pulled back, his eyes flickered open. The glow of his eyes were somewhat surreal.

"I should have never said that to you (Y/N). That day..I was stupid. Long before I had feelings for you. I guess I was just too scared to admit how I felt, so I kept my distance, and created excuses to keep it that way. I'm so sorry that I made you feel like you weren't welcomed. You're just as much a part of this family as April and Vern. "

"Leo.." so the entire time he cared about you, the same way you did for him. He just didn't want to accept it. Maybe he was terrified you wouldn't see him the same.

"Dummy." you mutter. Leo smiled at that, scratching his neck. "I have been an idiot. As a leader I should have understood better."

"Maybe you should stop expecting yourself to constantly know the answer for everything Leo. Somethings just aren't that logical." He knew that, now.

"There's still so much I need to learn. Will you help me?" you blushed, trying to hide it.

"S-Sure. I am a genius after all." you boasted, nudging your glasses.

"Yes you are." you gazed at him, nibbling on your lower lip.

"Leo..that kiss.."

"I'm sorry! That was definitely not okay. I think I just..reacted." You could tell he was still a bit unnerved by it all. He still wasn't completely sure of your feelings.

"I kind of liked it." you mumble. Leo is still, processing your words. When he takes a step forward, you can't stop the quickening of your heart beat.

"Can I kiss you again?" The fact that he asks permission this time causes your heart to do flips. He's standing right in front of you, and his eyes have already zeroed in on your lips. You stop nibbling on your lips when you feel his warm palm on your cheek. He doesn't make another move, waiting for an answer. When words fail, you simply give a small nod. Leo smiles warmly, that all he needs.

He lowers to meet your lips, and as he does, his forehead lightly taps your glasses. You flush in embarrassment, and Leo just chuckles. "Have I ever told you that you're absolutely adorable in glasses." The comment makes your cheeks darken even more, and as you think of a reply, Leo banishes any chance of you forming coherent thoughts. His lips are so soft. And the way he's holding your face in his palms, it makes you want to melt on the spot. Every movement is gentle and almost calculated.

The right amount of pressure and passion. How does he know to kiss so well? It shocks you, the expert way his lips are clashing with yours. It's possible he's seen one to many movies, and like the prodigy he is, the skill was something he picked up quickly. "Leo.." You can't do much but submit to him, and this time. This time there is no doubt in your mind. Because you finally know  his feelings, and he's aware of yours as well. When he picks you up bridal style, you're a bit taken by surprise, separating for a brief moment. As you do so, his eyes are a lot closer, and you can see everything. All his fears, wants, struggles, desires...

It's enough to overwhelm your heart. But you aren't afraid. Not at all. Because this is Leo. He may be terrible at voicing his feelings, but you know for a fact that he won't hurt you. Not at all. His blue bandana does wonders to highlight the similar glow of his eyes.

You can't look away, and you don't want to. Your hand presses to the center of his chest, and right beneath your palm you feel it. The insistent strumming. The look in your eyes changes to one of surprise, and he immediately knows why. "It's...harder for me to hide it when you're so close." This entire time he's been acting so confident and in control. Yet, he's just as smitten as you, Maybe ever more. You grin at that. "You don't have to." You reach up, reclaiming his lips, and nothing in the world seems sweeter than the taste of Leo's lips. And you know for a fact, nothing ever will.

[kazbrkker]

Chapter 4: Proxy War

Chapter summary: Alexis and Alex head to the second part of the mission: destroy General Barkov’s airbase. (2953 words)

Warnings: mentions of PTSD, anxiety and bruises.

26 OCTOBER 2019, 1900 "Alexis" and "Alex", Codename Aces CIA with Urzik Militia Al-Raab, Urzikstan.

First day into the assignment and Alexis had already received two generous gifts.

A fresh pink and red bruise rested just above her elbow, courtesy from the soldier earlier. Travelling further up her left tricep was another strip of exposed flesh, from a bullet that grazed her while they were running for their lives. She scoffed at the addition of new injuries, hastily ripping off a gauze to bandage the wound and hoped they wouldn't scar.

Struggling single-handedly, she managed to roughly rip a jagged piece of gauze. Almost thoughtlessly plastering it against her bare flesh, when without warning, her pathetic excuse of a bandage was snatched from her.

Alex loomed over her seat, crossing his arm. She scooted over the table she sat on. He chastised, "Don't underestimate these flesh wounds. They are small but nasty, especially in dusty environments like Urkzistan. Takes little to get infected."

"This is why I rarely get assigned to places like these." She mumbled dejectedly, watching him patch her up perfectly.

Alex had feather light touches for such a muscular man. She teased, to which he placed a finger on her forehead and pushed. He was more tender only when it came to her, a fact that everyone knew. Moments later, he proudly patted his handiwork. Alex lowered to eye level with the bandage, pouting smugly.

Alexis frowned at his suspicious behaviour.

"A kiss for your booboo?"

'Dumb ass.' Alexis sent an unforgiving hard flick! to his forehead. He snickered, rubbing the red spot.

Hadir entered the room with a few fighters, a brief pause in his steps upon witnessing their close proximity, "Alena... How are your wounds?"

From her peripheral vision, Alex subtly bit his lip and roughly tossed the bunch of bandage into the medkit. "Not Alena– " She placed an easing hand over his to silence him.

"I'm still alive. Are we ready?"

"Always about work, Alexis. You hardly changed." Hadir's gaze followed their intertwined hands and chuckled, somehow amused by their reactions. "I set up shop on the edge of Barkov's base. Keep those fucking dogs in check. Friends close, enemies closer. No grenades, so we improvise."

He handed them bottles of molotov cocktail. Impressive, for what scraps it was made out of. Alex echoed the same sentiment.

"What, you think we fight this war with sticks and stones?"

Sensing the pricks in Hadir's words, she quickly hopped off the table and patted Hadir's back. "With sharpened sticks and a big enough stone, why not?"

They followed Hadir to the roof. "You are too optimistic, Alexis." She laughed at that statement. "Those bastards only understand violence... So I show them violence."

"Violence is not a catalyst, it is a diversion. Too much of it, the evil it does is permanent, Hadir."

"You'd have to send me more English dictionaries, Alexis." Hadir cheekily replied in his mother tongue. "Barkov has an air force, so we have one too. RC planes loaded with C4."

Witnessing the unfamiliar grittier edge in Hadir, Alexis thought back to her first encounter with the siblings. It wasn't hard to read Hadir, the man was practically wearing his heart on his sleeves. One could say that pointed to a certain amount of naivety, but she liked it, a kind of genuine rare in their line of work.

Headstrong, direct, loyal, three words used to describe Hadir and it would be the truest thing one could hear. Like his sister, Hadir didn't quite fit in the mold. Five years ago, the lieutenant possessed a vivid sparkle in his eyes that was lacking in his sister. Always eager for a fight, a true never-backing-down-spirit. Today, the light dulled.

But what would she know? Perhaps that was the unfortunate cost of living in a civil war.

When they reached the roof, the sun had long set, leaving behind a cast of darkness that enveloped the sky. Even in nightfall, Urkzistan still felt like a hundred degrees, but the staggered waves of wind did some to alleviate the heat.

Alex and Alexis each grabbed a remote controller for the RC planes, crashing it into the army's helicopters. There was some excitement in using amateur, yet creative equipment like these, evident in her uncharacteristically large grin. "Good hunting."

"Stay low. The airbase is ahead."

The drones flew over the hill to the airbase's tarmac. Using the bird's eye view, she expertly memorized the tarmac's landscapes before crashing her drone into a target. The remaining helicopters exploded upon impact, illuminating the night sky in a series of twisted fireworks.

"Good flying, brothers and sisters... Let's get down there." Farah praised, a smile at bay. Weapons in hand, they hopped down to the airbase's perimeter.

"Airbase perimeter is dead ahead! Second team will cover us with the cannon." Hadir yelled over the sounds of the explosions.

Alexis subconsciously reloaded her M4A1 while Alex requested for air support. His words barely registered in her brain as a bout of anxiety hit her, feeling choked. Her grip tightened on her rifle, forcing big intakes of oxygen into her burning lungs. She quickly released her fingers in an attempt to fulfil the urge to feel the Earth under her, big handfuls of sand, dirt and grass.

Her heart thudded painfully in her throat, telling herself, 'You're okay. You're okay, you're here. Breathe.'

"Copy, 3-1. I'm tasking an unmarked gunship to your position, stand by." A muffled reply from her comms grounded her back into reality, she was here, this was happening.

Alexis hurriedly looked around, everyone else was too focused on the plan to notice her. Like it never happened, she forced herself to swallow the thickness in her throat, and along with that, her fear. She packed her emotions into a box and pushed it far into the back corner of her mind.

Alexis placed her all her focus, hyper-fixated on one thing: survive.

"Roger that," Alex replied, crouching beside Alexis. They were surrounded by the full force of the militia. Their spirits were contagious, feeding her a much needed level of adrenaline and confidence.

"Get ready! We attack their armories, take their weapons, and take their airfield! Cousins– we fight to free Urzikstan and take back our country. For Urzikstan!" A mortar cannon fired to breach the airfield's perimeter walls. That was it, upon Farah's orders, everyone sprinted, guns blazing into the south wall of the airbase.

It was like clockwork, shooting, running and hiding behind covers. She slipped back into familiarity, the anxiety in her dissolved and overtook by a rush need for survival and adrenaline.

The two CIA agents worked seamlessly, benefits from the countless missions that shaped their chemistry. She glared at Alex, annoyed when he stole her shot. He shrugged, firing his rifle while branding an excuse. Truthfully, he just liked to piss her off.

"You were distracted."

"I'll give you something to be distracted about." Her words mixed with more tautness than normal, but in the midst of all that blood and fighting, Alex didn't pick up on it.

"Hm. Wouldn't be the first time."

Alexis specially took a break from firing to throw her middle finger up. She aimed her carbine at the snipers on the watchtower opposite her. Two sharp bursts later, they lifelessly fell over the tower.

"Good job, Alexis! Watchtower is clear! Move in, move in!" Farah yelled and they pushed further into the base. Following behind Farah's team, Alexis and Alex flanked left, two sharpshooters ridding of enemy hostiles within seconds.

The enemy backup came instantly —two helicopters hovering over the airbase. The heavy fire forced them behind a tiny wooden crate. Lucky for them, Hadir's plan was foolproof. He loaded just enough RC planes, and more. Alex took remote control of the RC planes.

Seeing their cover was so small, Alex immediately shielded her with himself, hugging her as tightly as he could to minimize their exposure. Alexis quickly reached for a Molotov but paused. A crafty smirk as she kicked around for the biggest piece of concrete she could throw. She looped a tactical rope over the rock.

"Take the southeast one, this one's mine!" She ordered, blindly nudging Alex's knees and pointed at the helicopter just 300 yards shy from their position.

"With a rock?" Alex bewilderedly asked, multitasking while controlling the RC planes.

"Mind your business, I'm a good shot. Remember Cairo...?" Alexis trailed off to close her right eye in concentration.

"Unfortunately."

She filtered through the comms, "Hadir! Watch this!"

Eyeing for the tail rotor (the weakest link in a helicopter), she used the length of the rope as torque, then released. The heavy weight of the rock propelled it forward, the rope entangled among the spinning blades before the block of concrete broke its spin. Small sparks ignited as the blades came in contact with the object. Within seconds, the tail rotor failed, causing the helicopter to spin uncontrollably.

It crashed into a flower of sparks and fire. Alex whistled lowly in admiration at the sight, a mumbled 'damn' escaping from his lips.

"What did I say about finding a big enough stone?"

"Well played, I guess you don't have to send me more books, Alexis!"

"Visual learner, then." Lady Luck certainly was shining down bright on her, blessing her with good timing and that majority was the work of the pilot's own anxiety. Not that she would ever tell. She winked at Alex, jerking her head at the other destroyed chopper.

A number of militia members also witnessed the fiasco, all shouting Arabic words of praises. Her stunt did wonders to renew their fighting spirits. They pushed right towards the first armory.

Alexis waited for the most apposite timing before sprinting to her next cover, flawlessly lodging bullets in the new waves of snipers on a hangar's roof. She spotted a distinct red building. "3-1, got eyes on the armory."

"Copy that, I see it too. Two tangos, let's drop 'em." They cleared the armory for reloading.

"Good work, both of you! Regroup outside! Tarmac is through the gate. Everyone to the gate!"

Alexis was a phoenix on the battlefield. Her presence mighty, fearless and deadly within a single shot. Years of experience flowing in her blood, every move was calculated and precise. One shot, one kill, she dropped targets effortlessly. She knew exactly where and when to shoot, throw a grenade or to advance. It was compelling to see her move.

It had been longer than five minutes and yet, their air support still was nowhere near them. She was growing impatient, this tarmac was the turning point vital for their success. As another round of hellfire rained down, more of their own got caught in the crossfire. They helplessly watched as grunts of pains called out, watching comrades pierced with rounds of ammunition dropped dead beside them.

"Saint to Watcher, we are taking heavy fire from enemy helis! Get us that air support, now!" The chopper was late, and the agent was furious watching others pay the price. She'd be damned if she cared if her tone was 'appropriate'.

Switching to a crawling position, a sudden pain shot from her arm. She groaned mid-shot, knowing the bandage came loose and her dive roll into the sand and dust did not help. She stayed to clear stragglers while the rest pushed through the barracks to advance further into the tarmac.

"Sister! The tarmac is ahead of us!"

"I see it! Brother, get us more planes in the air!" Hadir tried, but in a turn of events, the militia's safehouse was under attack.

Fuck. She didn't like how the tables were turning. They really needed that damn helo.

"My planes are down. We need air support. If you guys really want to help us, now is the time!" Hadir pleaded.

Alex nodded reassuringly, "We have a helo on the way! We're on our own until then! Where's the last armory?"

"In that hangar across the tarmac! We take it and the base is ours!"

"Roger that! Saint," Alex called for her. "Race you there."

"Rog." She replied lazily, pushing herself off the ground and charged to the next armory. "Let's end this."

Alexis ran past the second hangar, where Farah and her soldiers were successfully sweeping up the enemies. Catching her breath, she met an awaiting Alex outside the armory, a displayed triumphant smirk since he reached first.

Hushed whispers came from inside, revealing their headcount. In the same formation, they boosted each other on top of the armory to reach a latch. On the count of three, Alexis used all her strength to open the heavy latch door for Alex to snipe the three soldiers.

"Last armory is secure. Resupply on us." Alex commented. Both of them busied refilling their ammunition. She caught with ease as Alex tossed an unloaded sniper rifle. Her lips curved upwards approvingly. "A Windrunner...? You are too good to a lady, Echo 3-1..."

Alex watched her hands appreciatively glided along the .50 BMG's body with a grin, knowing it was her perfect weapon. Her happiness was short lived when the airbase power was cut off, leaving them in the dark. He shrugged as she returned it and left. Without a thermal scope, it was useless to them.

"I hear incoming!" Farah alerted as more tanks rolled up to the hangar. Alexis cursed, this was never ending without their helos.

"Shit! Alexis, we could really use some help here!"

Her comms sounded, "Echo 3-1, Viper 1-1 on approach. Ready for tasking. What's your position?"

'Oh hell yes', she thought, immediately ceasing fire and slumped on the ground to regain her energy.

"Viper, this is 3-1. God damn good to hear your voice!" Alex conveyed in relief. "Friendlies in the hangar, taking fire from troops on the tarmac. You are cleared hot!"

"Farah, Hadir! Get your people to stay inside the hangar!" Alexis shouted, pointing at the helo. The siblings nodded in gratitude.

"Saint to Viper, did you take a nap or something?" Alexis thought she recognized Viper's voice and callsign. Beside her, Alex almost had a cardiac arrest from her unexpected accusatory tone.

Instead, a chuckle came from the receiving end. "Saint! We ran into a little fuel situation at baseplate. How many times must I save your pretty ass?"

Alex glanced questionably. 'He had a crush' she mouthed, waving dismissively. Alex rolled his eyes in response, of course he did.

All of them remained in the hanger while Viper cleaned up. As they looked around, their headcount was drastically reduced. This sucked —she hated this part. The part where they paid the price, a hefty one, even for the victorious.

A sudden burst of gunfire shot into the hangar, barely missing the lot. "Jesus!" Alex commented, equally taken aback.

Alexis yelled into the comms, "Viper, do you mind doing a little landscaping – a tank right outside the hangar! Pretty sure we almost fucking died!"

"Copy. Anything for you, Saint." Alexis was about to call Viper out for his inappropriate comments, but since Viper was the one saving their asses, she stopped and settled for an unsatisfying eye-roll. From the annoyed expression, it was clear Alex felt the same.

After a few rockets and hellfire from Viper, they successfully claimed the airbase. "All targets destroyed. Tarmac is cleared of enemy movement, over." She looked to Farah, a warm smile slipping on the commander's face.

They won. They took the airbase and shoved it where it would hurt Barkov. Without air support, his army would face tremendous setbacks.

"Solid copy, Viper 1-1. Appreciate the high heat, don't be a stranger." Alex thanked.

"Never by choice, 3-1. Nice to hear from you again, Saint, hope to see you at the next one! Viper, out."

"Don't I know it! Echo and Saint, out." Alex interjected before she could even touch her comms.

Walking through the empty airbase, her adrenaline pumped at the sweet taste of victory. For Alex and her, victory was probably their only constant. The taste no longer revelled on their tongues the same way it used to —watered down after hundreds of missions. To them, today would have been just another victory tucked under their belts.

But for the Liberation Force, they were a step closer to freeing themselves from the cage Barkov ruthlessly shoved them in.

As Alexis, Alex, Hadir and Farah surveyed the scene of their victory, a once foreign feeling of contentment coursed through her veins. From the look on Alex's face and the way he ethnically perched his arm over her, he definitely felt that way too.

"So you do kill Russians." Hadir said jovially.

"Only the bad ones."

Hadir looked to them sincerely. "Today was a great victory for Urzikstan. Thank you, brother and sister."

"We make a good team." Alex passed a genuine smile, proud.

Alexis huffed, looping her arms around the siblings endearingly as if to stake her claim. Her uncharacteristic affection shocked him, even though he was aware of their history. "Welcome to the team, Alex."

Farah smiled. "Yes, we've bought time, but Barkov will retaliate."

"So will we." Hadir finished. They'd be more than ready.

They had no idea where this war was going to take them. However, one thing was for sure. When they were done with this assignment, Roman Barkov would be dead. It was a promise they swore upon.

Farah glanced at her team. After today, they were comrades.

a/n: sorry this was a very technical chapter. peep alex's silent jealous streak tho... masterlist here. want to be tagged? let me know!

[pernatius]

Lost in Space Part 6: Ch 2

Ch 1

Summary: With the fate of the universe resting in her hands, an unnamed Space Explorer and Saamuki first must find Syco to get back their friends.

Lost in Space on Tumblr

Lost in Space on ao3

A swig of alcohol later and Saamuki throws the curtains open and storms out of there with me trying to catch up. Somehow with being both tipsy and shorter than me she’s able to make quite a distance. As I try to catch my breath in front of the pacing Saamuki, I curiously pressed, “What’s up north?”

It takes her a moment to answer, either because she faded me out or that she’s no longer sober, “Big festival. Definitely not for me. Explains why this planet has become a ghost planet.”

“But Sakhra is there. Isn’t he? We have to go.”

“I know. I know we do, but why did this have to happen today? Ugh. Okay. Let me just compose myself. Give me a moment.” A few, long breaths and her talking to herself, a long awkward moment of me looking at the sand around us, and she’s leading me to where the festival is. It was several lengthy, empty roads and alleyways, and me having to hold my breath because three of them were a tight squeeze. At least the trip wasn’t as long as the labyrinth underneath Cabelo’s hotel and I had actual scenery rather than dusty, muddy bricks with some sort of greenish substance. They were structures. They were buildings. They were homes. It was interesting to see how these people lived because as I said before they are just like anyone else. They lived like how any other person would live in these conditions. Some homes were five-stories. Most were either one- or two-stories. Each held a different shape. There were ones with a round roof, others had the classic triangular roof and some were super creative by going the extra mile of concave roofs. Each held a different personality that probably represented their owners. All were made out of a mixture of rock and mud. By the time we reached the outskirts of the town, we were greeted by the mouth of a small cave that sloped downward at about a forty-five-degree angle. Swinging the staff across the gaping darkness, I see another hole shooting straight down. “It’s up north then down south,” I commented. 

She turns to me, revealing a blush, and laughs. Saamuki laughs like it’s actually funny. Like it’s the best joke she’s ever heard before. I’m not a comedian as I have a poor sense of humor, so I know it wasn’t funny at all. She wipes away her tears of joy before nudging me to head in with her. 

The ladder wasn’t cold. It didn’t feel like it was never going to end, but I still struggled to keep my grip because of all the dirt and mud sticking onto it. By the time we hop off, I note the lanterns hanging along the walls of the cave and the stream, which has a golden glow because of the lights above, between us as I shake off the mess on my hands. That feeling I always get when something bad is about to happen hits me. I don’t hesitate to point the staff in front of me, but Saamuki doesn’t hesitate to go on ahead. I follow her with my grip tightened with a bit of hesitation in my footsteps. 

When Saamuki said big she really meant big. It was packed. It was as if twice as many people who were usually at the flea market were all in here, stuffed in the cave. Although, calling it a festival is an understatement. You’d assume it would be a celebration filled with merriment like laughter and smiles, but nope. Everyone in here is unusually, eerily quiet with their heads down underneath a thick, black robe. We were the outliers, but no one paid any mind to us. They remained pointed forward. Pointed forward at what I had no idea. The tallest seemed to be standing in the back, unintentionally making an unwavering wall. Saamuki grumbles and looks around. She then takes my hand and leads me to one of the only open spots in this place. “This will take a bit,” she explained to me. 

Because of all the crampedness, it felt like a sauna. I tugged my collar, hoping some cold air would shimmy down underneath and cool my sweating chest. It did, but not as much as I hoped. 

A figure stepped onto a makeshift podium. “It’s been six months since we placed that torch. It’s been six months since her murder. She was killed by a Space Pirate. She was one of our own. No, she was one of the greatest among us, yet they’ve forgotten about her.” Getting who he was talking about, I take a glance at the lip-biting Saamuki. “Brothers and Sisters, they have let us live, or so they would like us to believe. They claim it’s for balance. Well, that balance is shifting. It’s becoming clear that they’re no longer needed. It is only a matter of time before the Lords come looking for our children, our lovers, and ourselves. They’re killing us off one by one, yet it is only now we take notice. For centuries we have been their lackeys, their slaves. We’ve always done their dirty work. We never questioned once because we were blinded by the gifts, the freedom. No longer shall we live this way. No longer shall we let them control us. True freedom is not one built on fear. Brothers and sisters, it is time we rise. The time is now. There is no better time than now. Their most precious pets are at war with each other as we speak.”

“Brother, they will listen to us for some things, but not for this. They will massacre all of us within a blink of an eye,” a voice from the crowd replied. 

“Sister, what are rulers without followers? A hundred of us they will slaughter without a thought, but thousands of us is a different story. One voice is a whisper. Ten voices is a mutter. A hundred is heard, but not listened to. A thousand is a call to action.”

Another voice from the crowd countered, “Even if we wanted to, brother, we don’t have the supplies to stage such a theatrical war and we especially don’t have the manpower. Most of us are well over the age of action. This includes you, brother. Besides, we can’t just leave our children unattended if all goes south.”

“That is true, brother, but that’s why I ask for all of you to bury down your pride and seek the help of the public. Billions of voices can not be unheard. Brothers and sisters, it is time we act before it’s too late. They are feared because we let them be feared. We feed into the power they have, but power is a belief. It cannot be touched, but it can be broken. You and many others in this room know that is true.” 

A wave of whispers and hushes filled the room. A voice broke through the sound with a shout. Anger then erupted. Arguments had awakened. Then, as quickly as it came it all quieted. Silence filled the room. A single, familiar-looking hand is then raised. Everyone around eyed him. The owner of the hand had spoken, “I will join the cause that affects all of us, brother. I stand by your offer without any hesitation.”

“Classic Sakhra,” Saamuki mumbled with a smirk and a still blushing face. 

Of course, when one person confidently makes their voice heard then others are bound to join in. One by one everyone in the room is recruited. The last one to raise their hand, with what I think is an eye roll and an exaggerated swinging of his arm, is the man that tried deterring the announcer. 

The announcer started again, “With that settled, let us drink.” Everyone cheered and Saamuki turned around and covered her ears. Right when I’m about to question what had gotten her so disgusted with what’s just a town hall meeting, two cloaked figures threw a tied up, whimpering body in front of the announcer. The body couldn’t be any younger than the other prisoner on the Trauvox ship. Whoever this new character is clearly has seen war. They’re wearing a ripped, navy blue uniform and a tad of white with bloodstains. Purple spots have grown over where blood has been splattered. What was once pure white has now turned into a pinkish handkerchief. Their puffy pants, which are mostly tucked into their knee-high, dark brown boots, have battle scars of their own. Tears and scratches have made their name on them as well. The announcer bends down. “Speak, child. Let your voice be heard,” he continued.

The soldier doesn’t even take a glance at the man above him. Instead, they try to struggle free. Clearly, they’re outnumbered. If they were to loosen the rope tying them down just enough for at least one of their arms to be free they’d be welcomed to an onslaught of getting their ass beat by hundreds. They’re weaponless, I need to add. I don’t know what sort of training they’ve gone through, but it didn’t train their common sense. Maybe the type of training they went through suppressed it to outweigh honor. Maybe they’d rather die fighting than be at the announcer's mercy. Maybe it’s just the youth talking. 

Because they failed to answer, the announcer gets up and slams his foot into the soldier’s chest. I hear the sounds of ribs cracking as the soldier cries and spits out blood. My knuckles turned white because of how tight my grip on the staff has become. I try fighting myself. I want to go and help him. It sickened me seeing this type of excessive treatment, but at the same time, I know that doing so would probably get me to wind up like him. Saamuki tells me, “I know, but it’ll be all over soon. Just wait.”

He’s beaten—bloody nose and teeth, a split lip, and twitching hands. He stammers out as his collar is about to give in from underneath the clutch of the announcer’s hand, “B-Battalion five. I’m from battalion five of Quadrant Forty. I’m just a private. P-Please, have mercy.”

With that, the collar gives in. The private falls with a hard thud. Again, the announcer lowers. This time the private flinches when he speaks. “Ah, now was that so hard?” The beaten, young soldier shakes his head. “Good, but, unfortunately, it took you this long for you to crack. Most last far longer. One lasted a whole week. His lips remained shut even as we ripped each of his nails. Although, and of course, I didn’t beat him for every second that week. Even we get tired of torturing, but you’re just a private. Still, you’ve given your life to the Lords and that means you represent fascism.”

“If you want intel I don’t have any. They don’t tell us anything.”

“Yes, I already know, but that’s not why you’re here before us. Also, I didn’t ask you to speak.” The announcer slaps the soldier right across his face. A tooth is shot out and rolls off the podium and into the crowd. “You’re here to honor a friend’s six month death anniversary.”

His torturer moves his hand into his cloak and pierces a dagger into the soldier's stomach. Forcing the blade to go right through the soldier, the soldier gags and starts shaking. Then, he returns to screaming when the weapon is slid upwards. When my eyes meet with his guts and especially a beating heart, that’s when I gag. As blood is sprayed out and his organs topple to the floor, the announcer kicks him into the crowd. They pile on top of him and in the most horrific way to die they feast on the barely living, young man. Saamuki throws up with her back still turned to what now appears to be a cult. The announcer licks the soldier’s blood off of his hands and then his weapon as his followers rip right through and consume the private. It’s as if they haven’t eaten in days. It’s as if they’re wild animals rather than people. My insides are empty, yet I feel like I still have something to puke up. At least it didn’t last for long, but I, unfortunately, learned why Saamuki was so hesitant to come here. 

[glowrioustrash]

New Rules 3

Summary: The party of the year, a spreading virus, and 90′s throwbacks. Dean has realized his feelings aren’t entirely platonic, but will Elena?

Pairing: Eventual Dean Ambrose x OC

Word Count: 3000+

Warnings: Swearing

Author’s Note: Happy American Thanksgiving! I did not think I would be able to get this out today, but here I am formatting a post instead of getting ready for work. Consider it a gift. I took some creative liberties with timelines here, but hey it’s fiction.

Tagging: @castielscamander / @therealfivefeetoffuckingfury / @alexahood21

Part 1 | Part 2

Elena sat at a table in catering with Alexa, Nia, and Bayley. It was Monday night and the four of them weren’t needed until the third hour of the show so they were wasting time by chatting. The topic of the moment was The Miz’s upcoming birthday party. Maryse, as always, was going all out in planning the birthday party for her husband. She had rented a hall and everyone from the roster had been invited, including Smackdown, 205 Live and NXT. It had been the talk of the locker room since the invitations were sent.

“There’s going to be food trucks. Maryse always gets food trucks.” Alexa said, making everyone else nod. They knew it was true.

“I can’t wait to see the cake.” Bayley added.

“Ugh, I can. It’s going to be so good but so bad for me.” Alexa moaned.

“We’ll eat your share.” Nia laughed.

“We’re also assuming there will only be one cake.” Elena grinned. All four girls groaned at the thought of the delicious food that would be at the party.

“So Elena, has anyone asked you to the party yet?” Alexa asked. The other three girls turned to Elena with wide eyes.

“No, and no one has to.” She warned, pointing at all three of them. “Tell the others too. I don’t need or want you guys trying to set me up again.”

“Oh please? Let us find you a date. It’s the perfect opportunity to get closer with someone.” Bayley pled.

“No.” Elena shook her head, not wanting to hear it.

“What if we tell you who it is, so then it isn’t a blind date?” Nia tried.

“Nope.” Elena turned away, trying to ignore them.

“What if we just line up some guys for you to dance with?” Alexa asked.

“Nu-uh.” Elena put her hands over her ears. “I don’t want to hear any more.”

She could vaguely hear the girls’ voices, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. She glanced back at them, hoping maybe they’d moved on to another topic of conversation but they were all still staring at her. She turned away again.

“Elena!” Alexa yelled, pulling Elena’s arm down. “Alright, we’ll stop.”

“Promise?” Elena prompted.

“Fine.” Alexa sighed, rolling her eyes. “We’re just trying to help.”

“I know that, but I don’t need your help. I don’t need a man. I’m just fine.”

“Mmhmm…” Nia hummed disbelievingly.

“I’m an independent woman and I don’t need a man. I get mine all on my own, thank you very much.” Elena sassed, making the other three women laugh.

“What’s all the commotion?” Seth asked as he plopped into a chair at their table.

“Elena is a proud masturbator.” Nia shrugged.

“What?!” Elena choked. “That’s not what I- that’s completely out of- That is not what I said!”

“Hey, hey. No judgement.” Seth threw his hands in the air. “It’s human, we all do it.”

“Yeah, relax you prude.” Alexa teased.

“I give up.” Elena groaned, letting her head hit the table.

Elena was slumping her way back to the women’s locker room after her match. She’d lost, which wasn’t the problem, but she had botched a simple move, her foot slipping off the rope when she tried to springboard. No one was hurt, but she felt stupid. She was just about ready to pack it in and have a pity party for the night.

“Hey, El!”

She stopped walking and turned to see Bo Dallas jogging down the hall towards her.

“Hey, Bo.” She tried to smile, but she knew it wasn’t much more than a grimace.

“Are you okay?” He asked when he reached her.

“Yeah, just beating myself up over that fucking botch.” She sighed, running her hand through her hair.

“Hey, it happens to all of us.” He shrugged, giving her a sympathetic grin. “No one got hurt so it’s really not a big deal.”

“My pride got hurt.” She pouted, making him laugh.

“I don’t think they make bandaids for that.” He joked.

“Yes they do, it’s called tequila.” She grinned.

“True enough.” He smiled, looking down. “Hey, so… I couldn’t help but overhear you in catering earlier…”

Elena furrowed her brows for a second, trying to remember what had happened. She turned bright red when it came to her.

“Oh my god, that was way out of context.” She winced. “Nia was just… she took something I said and turned it around.”

“What?” He tilted his head in confusion. “I meant about you not having a date to Miz’s party.”

“Oh.” Elena breathed a sigh of relief. “That. Yeah, no. Going stag.”

“Yeah, me too.” He nodded, a pause passing between them. “Unless you maybe wanted to go with me?”

“Huh?” She gaped at Bo, not having expected him to ask that. “You’re asking me to go to Miz’s party with you?”

“Yeah.” He grinned sheepishly.

“Did one of the girls put you up to this?” Elena asked skeptically.

“No, not at all.” He shook his head. “I didn’t realize you were single, and I’m single. I thought we could be single together, except that doesn’t really make sense…”

Elena chuckled as he scratched the back of his head. She hadn’t really thought of Bo like that before, but he was being really sweet. Plus it took balls to ask someone out head on. It’s not like she had another date lined up, and this would get the girls off her back. It couldn’t hurt.

“Sure.” She smiled.

“Yeah?” Bo smiled back.

“Yeah.” She echoed. “It’ll be fun.”

“Great. Awesome.” He nodded. “I’ll uh, I’ll talk to you later then. Make plans to pick you up and everything.”

“Sounds good.”

“Okay. Later.” He gave her a little wave before turning, walking back down the hallway in the direction he’d come from. She watched him for a moment, smiling when he turned back to look at her before turning the corner. With a new bounce in her step, she continued for the locker room.

Elena was tickled pink the next time her friends tried to convince her to find a date to the party. The looks on their faces when she got to tell them she already had one was priceless. She wished she’d had a camera on them at the time.

She also started talking to Bo a little more, getting to know him before the party. He was a nice guy with a good sense of humor. There wasn’t any spark between them, at least not yet, but she was genuinely enjoying his company. She was looking forward to going to the party with him.

A few days before the party Elena was sitting in catering again, this time with Sasha, Bayley, and Seth. They were chatting when Elena noticed Dean come in out of the corner of her eye. Knowing he was likely grabbing something to take back to the locker room, she excused herself from the conversation to catch him before he left.

“Hey, Dean.” She chirped, sidling up beside him.

“Hey.” He grunted.

“You’ve been a bit M.I.A. lately.” She nudged him lightly, not wanting to make him drop his food. It was true, she hadn’t seen as much of Dean as she usually did lately. With their busy schedule, it wasn’t too out of the ordinary. He might have had other appearances he was busy with. He could be coming down with something or simply road weary and spending time with himself. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, s’all good.” He replied shortly.

“Been busy?” She asked.

“Yeah.” He grunted again. Elena waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t.

“So, uh… excited for the party?”

“Not goin’.”

“Are you serious?” She gaped. “It’s going to be the party of the year.”

“So?” He shrugged.

“There’s going to be an open bar. I thought you’d go just for that.” She teased.

“Well, I’m not.”

“Is something wrong?” She asked gently. Dean was known to be a little antisocial at times, but not with her.

“Everything’s peachy, darlin’.” He barely kept the bite out of his tone.

“Convincing.” She drawled. Dean didn’t respond, starting to walk away now that he had his plate filled. “Dean!” She called after him, following hot on his heels.

“What?” He didn’t stop walking, didn’t even look over his shoulder at her.

“Why aren’t you going to the party?”

“Don’t wanna. Is that a crime?”

“No, I guess not.” She shrugged, looking at the floor dejectedly.

“Right. So get off my case about it.”

“What the hell is your problem?” She huffed, growing tired of the way he was talking to her.

“My problem? I don’t have a problem.” He brushed off the question.

“If you say so.” She rolled her eyes.

“Glad that’s settled. Have fun at the party.” He grumbled, clearly intending to end the conversation.

“I will.” Elena puffed out her chest defiantly.

“Good.”

“You’ll be the one missing out. I would have saved you a dance.”

“I’ll live. Dance with Bo.”

Before Elena could respond, he walked into the men’s locker room and shut the door so she couldn’t follow. She nearly smacked into it face first.

“Ass!” She shouted through the door before stomping back towards catering.

Elena couldn’t help but be disappointed when the night of the party arrived and she was suddenly going alone. Bo had gotten sick and been sent home by the trainers. He apologized several times over the phone for leaving her without a date. She didn’t hold it against him, it was out of his control, and wished him a speedy recovery. She was resolved to enjoy the party anyway.

Most of the superstars were paired up, either with their significant others or someone who had asked a friend to keep them company during the party. Elena bounced around the couples, rotating anytime she felt like she was a third wheel. It wasn’t as bad as she thought it might be, but the open bar definitely helped.

She was dancing with Sasha and Alexa when a slow song started. The Miz had taken the DJ’s microphone and asked Maryse to join him for a dance. Everyone applauded the It Couple, both as a happy birthday and a congratulations for throwing a great party. Soon the other couples began to partner up and join the dance. Elena decided it was a great time for another drink.

She was a few feet from the bar when she noticed a familiar mop of brown hair and a leather jacket.

“I thought you weren’t coming.” She couldn’t stop the smile as she stood next to him.

“Changed my mind.” Dean shrugged, looking at the drink in his hand.

“Obviously.” She laughed. “Pulled the stick out of your ass?”

“Nah, it’s still in there.” He grinned. “But yunno… free booze.”

“Yeah. Can’t go wrong.” She agreed, waving the bartender over and ordering a cocktail. In the corner of her eye as she ordered, she noticed Dean finally look at her.

“You look nice.” He grumbled, taking a swig of his drink.

“Oh, thanks.” She looked down at her backless burgundy dress. “I bought it for tonight.”

“How come you’re not out there dancing?” He wondered, turning to look over the dancefloor.

“No one to dance with.” She sighed.

“Where’s Bo?”

“Got sent home. You didn’t hear? He’s got that virus they’re testing us all for.” She asked. It was pretty common knowledge in the locker room that a virus was spreading, but they weren’t exactly sure what it was yet. Elena thanked the bartender as she got her drink, turning to sip it as she watched the dance floor with Dean.

“Oh yeah. Guess I forgot.”

“Yeah. Sucks he had to miss the party.”

They watched the dancefloor as the slow song drew to an end. The crowd cheered and laughed as an old 90’s dance hit started, making the couples separate to dance.

“Well, let’s go then.” Dean sighed, setting his now empty glass on the bartop.

“Hmm?” Elena hummed.

“If you’re gonna pout ‘bout it, let’s go dance.”

“I wasn’t pouting.” Elena was fairly certain she wasn’t. Of course she wanted to dance, but she didn’t think she was pouting.

“Sure, sure. C’mon.” Dean took a few steps away from the bar, holding his hand out for her.

“Can you even dance?” She asked skeptically.

“I’ve been known to hokey-pokey. Let’s go.”

She threw back the rest of her drink quickly, setting the glass next to his and taking his hand with a smile. Even more than her desire to dance, she wanted to see Dean dance to the throwback hit.

As expected, he wasn’t a great dancer, but he was going for it and having fun. He pulled out cheesy dance moves like the arm wave, the sprinkler, and the dice roll. Elena joined in, hitting the cabbage patch, the shopping cart, and Gangnam style. They kept dancing as one song changed to the next, Dean taking her hand and spinning her around. When Believe by Cher came on, Dean sang along (very poorly and messing up the words) to the chorus, making Elena laugh so hard she had to stop dancing to catch her breath.

“Okay, colour me impressed.” She shouted over the music. “Better than I was expecting.”

“And you doubted me.” He teased.

“Hey girl!” Alexa called as she and Bayley joined them. “Look at you having fun.” She gave Elena a hip check.

“Didn’t think you were coming tonight, Dean.” Bayley mentioned.

“Yeah, changed my mind.” He shrugged. “I’m gonna go get a drink. You ladies want somethin’?”

The rest of the night was passed with more drinking and dancing, Elena feeling less left out now that Dean was there. Even when they stopped dancing, she had someone to talk to or drink with. She didn’t feel so “third wheel” anymore.

It was almost 1AM when she and Dean sat down to take a break. She fought back her first yawn of the night, trying to push through to keep having fun. Within a half hour though, she couldn’t hide it anymore and was nearly falling asleep.

“Tired?” Dean guessed.

“Nu-uh.” She shook her head, eyes drooping.

“Wanna go back to the hotel?” He asked.

“Nu-uh” She shook her head again, yawning again.

“Yeah right.” He scoffed. “Stay here, I’ll tell the girls I’m takin’ you back.”

“Okay.” She laid her head on the table, letting her eyes close. It was late, she’d been dancing and drinking all night. As much fun as she was having, she was beat. If not for the loud music she may have crashed right there.

“C’mon.” Dean rested a hand on her shoulder, making her groan. She reluctantly stood, wobbly on her feet from the exhaustion, alcohol, and high heels.

“You told ‘em?” She asked, leaning into his side.

“Yeah, found Sasha first. Purple hair is easy to pick out in a crowd.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leading her to the door.

Elena shivered as soon as they were outside, the cool night air a drastic change from the warmth caused by all the moving bodies in the hall. Her short, backless dress did nothing to hide her sweat dampened skin from the breeze. Dean shrugged off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders.

“Thanks.” She smiled sleepily at him. He smiled back but didn’t answer as he watched for a cab to flag down. It didn’t take long, the drivers likely realizing there was a big party in the hall and knowing it would be a good place to pick up fares.

Dean ushered Elena into the cab, sliding in after her. She buckled herself in as he gave the driver the name of the hotel.

“I’m glad you came.” She mumbled, leaning into Dean’s side.

“Me too.” He admitted.

“Would have been boring without your awful dancing.”

“My awful dancing? Did you see Mojo?” He scoffed, making Elena chuckle.

“Seems like a big party tonight.” The driver interjected when a silence fell over the cab.

“Yeah, birthday.” Dean answered.

“Yours?” The driver asked.

“Nah, coworker’s.” Dean clarified.

Elena couldn’t help but nod off as she listened to the back and forth of the conversation.

Elena woke up slowly, surrounded by comfort and a wonderful smell. She snuggled into the blanket, which seemed to be the source of the smell.

As she woke further, she realized she didn’t remember making it to bed. She hesitantly cracked an eye and was relieved to see her hotel room. She could clearly see her hair products and make-up sprawled over the dresser from when she’d gotten ready last night. She closed her eye again, happy to doze some more.

She thought over last night as she laid there, remembering the fun she’d had once Dean had shown up. The way he seemed to be happy to make a fool of himself on the dancefloor if it made her laugh. She couldn’t stop the smile from growing on her face at the memory. The more she thought of him, the easier it was to identify the smell surrounding her – it smelled exactly like Dean.

She cracked an eye open again, looking down and noticing she was wrapped up in Dean’s leather jacket. She remembered wearing it when they got into the cab. Dean must have carried her into her room and left the jacket with her. She knew she was a clingy sleeper, so maybe she didn’t let it go once she was in bed. If that was the case, she was surprised he’d somehow escaped. He didn’t seem to be in the room with her.

She chuckled to herself and buried her nose deeper into the jacket, inhaling the scent that was just so Dean. She loved the way he smelled, it was so comforting. She felt herself falling back asleep, seeing his smiling face as they danced flash through her memory again. He really is the perfect man. It was too bad she had woken up wrapped in his jacket and not the man himself.

She tensed, suddenly feeling very awake.

Wait, what? No. That’s not what she meant. No, no, no… fuck, yes it was. Shit.

Part 4!

[ahornedgod]

Jonsa S7 Summer Challenge - Day 3

day 3: gifts or fixations 

a/n: finally! i got this one on time, yus. ok, so, this could def work with both options, but i stuck to the second one. enjoy!

unbeta’d.

@jonsa-creatives

the sequel to this.

(jurassic world au)

Bran doesn’t know what his sister plans to do, he only hopes it doesn’t take too long; he dearly hopes she’s safe.

Safer than us, at least, he thinks, trying to keep himself and Rickon quiet as to not attract unwanted attention.

Hidden away as they are in the gift shop, Bran knows that keeping quiet is their best bet; his broken ankle will prevent any speedy escape and he dreads the thought of having to send Rickon away if something were to happen. His little brother, brave as any other Stark, would put up a fight at leaving him—God knows he would, fight tooth and nail to stay with him.

Bran can’t allow that.

The terrifying screech of the Indominus Rex—and what kind of idiot is this Viserys Targaryen to even think of creating such an hybrid?—echoes around the deserted park, followed closely by a rapid series of gunshots and Bran feels the fear grip at him again.

Because there is another matter that worries him about this situation, about his broken ankle; because while Rickon would fight him through every bit of whatever argument he can think off to make him run away, Bran knows he’ll eventually outwit his little brother. In a way he cannot outwit Jon Snow. Not because he wouldn’t be able to come up with the right argument, but because he is Jon.

Robb’s best friend since forever, Arya’s favorite big brother even if the blood relation isn’t there – he was an honorary Stark in his own right. Jon is family, and Bran knows he would never leave him behind, no matter the circumstances.

He had been so shocked at seeing him here, working in this park with Sansa; his sister having never said anything about it—

The gunshots stop.

Bran presses himself further against the back wall, Rickon tucked under his arm, completely still as they wait for the silence to end. He grips his brother tighter.

“Rickon…” he begins, but is cut off rather rudely.

“I’m not leaving you.”

Yup, his brother is every bit the Stark – stubborn to the very end.

Before he can begin persuading, however, Jon chooses that moment to crash through the door and skid to halt in front of them, turning around and assuming a protective position over them. Using himself as a shield seems to be what he’s going for.

“Jon!” Rickon doesn’t remember much of Jon, only from that Christmas six years ago, but he’s heard enough to have formed a sort of attachment to the idea of Jon. “What happened?”

“Ran out of ammo,” is his answer, and the grim look on his face is telling enough that they might as well be, as Arya would say, screwed.

“Did you see Sansa?”

Jon gives them a grim look over his shoulder and shakes his head. He’s about to say something when the whole front of the store explodes inside and one of the Indominus’ claws sweeps towards them, trying to catch them. The rumble of the shop’s shaking foundations and the screech of the beast reverberate all around them.

Now or never.

“Jon!” shouts Bran, grabbing his shoulder to catch his attention for good measure. “Jon! Take Rickon and go! Go!”

“Like hell I will! I’m not leaving you here!”

“I’m not leaving you either, Bran!”

“Listen, I can’t run! You need to leave, find Sansa and—”

Another screech, this one of a slightly higher pitch, cuts him off. It is a split second; the three of them look beyond the wreckage that is the front side of the gift shop, beyond the Indominus Rex, at a tiny glowing red dot growing closer and closer. And the closer it gets, it becomes clear to what’s happening.

Jon starts, hissing in surprise. “Is that—?”

Because that’s Sansa, running at full speed towards them, holding up high a sparkler. And for a moment Bran can’t understand what she’s doing, why she’s doing it, until he focuses on a point behind his sister.

Jon curses, trying to scramble to his feet but Bran grabs a hold on him, keeping him still.

Lo and behold, his dear big sister has brought with her the cavalry—in the very form of the formidable T-Rex.

Rickon lets out a delighted shout. “That’s Sansa!”

*

Her feet are killing her; that’s a thought that won’t leave her alone. Her feet are killing her; her brothers are safe and sound, if a little beaten up – Bran had gotten the worst with his broken ankle. But they are safe, mostly unharmed, and right there where she can keep an eye on them until the helicopters come to pick them up.

Her feet are killing her, her brothers are safe and sound, and Jon is currently cradling her into his lap – not letting go, he has made it clear he has no intention of letting her go. Ever, he’d said. Not that she minds, but for the sake of trying to keep things as normal as it is for them, she has to say something to that.

“Is that so?”

Jon hums, nuzzling her neck; she feels the semi dried blood from the cut on his temple stick to her jaw and cheek. Funny, how she no longer cares; she wants to laugh, thinking how a little blood staining her cheek would have bothered her, once upon a lifetime ago, back when her skirt had still being a crisp white and didn’t have a tear up the side of her tight and her blouse wasn’t covered in sweat and mud and blood.

Back when she had sworn to never ever think of Jon Snow as anything other than a family friend; when she wasn’t covered in bruises from their stroll in the woods—sixty-five million years ago, supplied her mind. Way back when she was convinced her job was fulfilling enough that she could afford skipping family reunions and holidays.

Sansa can’t quite believe how much she’s changed in a few hours; she doesn’t think she can go back to being who she was before.

Jon nudges her gently, effectively snapping her out her thoughts. “Yeah.”

She has a witty remark, she does. But right now she can’t remember it, instead she turns her head a little to place a kiss to his cheek.

“You were very brave, Sansa,” he says, tilting his head until their noses bumped. “What you did; it was very brave, and stupid, but mostly brave.”

“Just those?”

He groans and presses his lips to her cheek among fevered kisses. “And hot as all seven hells. God, Sansa,” he pauses, taking in a shuddering breath, “I’ve always loved your legs, but now I think I’ve reached a new level of appreciation for them—for you on high heels. I’ll be forever fixated on that from now on.”

She smirks. “Me in high heels, huh?”

He chuckles, lets one of his hands trail carefully down her leg and then up. “Aye, and only in high heels.”

Rickon leaps to his feet suddenly and starts jumping up and down, shouting at something. At something that turns out to be the helicopter, nearing at last. Jon helps her stand up, kisses her once on the lips, and then goes to help Bran.

Sansa knows, she should be as ecstatic as her little brother is to get out of this island, but her mind is miles away and sometime into the future, on the second date Jon promised, that she also promised.

Only in high heels, she thinks, casting a quick glance in Jon’s direction, I think that can be arranged.

[abakersquest]

CHAPTER THIRTEEN – RED SAILS BEST FORGOTTEN

According to Captain Blackeye, the Lunar Swell shaved four days off the six it would’ve taken to get to Galaga Island, affording them all two days to come to know one another better. On the first night, the meeting in the small dining room just below deck was a cramped and stilted experience until Wally set to work in the galley. As he found the space just the right size for him to work, he concluded it was Polly who prepared any of the captain’s meals, as imagining the bulky frame of the great commander of the sea doing anything in the small kitchen was far too hilarious to have ever actually happened.

The smell of whatever Wally happened to be cooking put everyone at ease enough to turn the atmosphere from confined into cozy. When the meal was finally placed before them, they all ate as if food was a long forgotten concept.

“Mm! Wally! What is this?!” Rozzi said as she hurriedly swallowed another mouthful.

“Well the galley’s storage didn’t exactly have a lot of variety, a number of drie goods and cured meats and a few containers with rice and spices… So I threw together an Icthyite recipe I knew with some of the vegetables I picked up at Areca. I mixed some potash into Wistea’s, extra salt for the Captain and Polly, a touch more meat in Hector’s, and a bit of bitter fruit in yours because Cri’tet told me you enjoyed that sort of thing.”

Blackeye savored his last bite quite audibly before speaking in an awestruck tone, “By the currents lad, if you’re this talented with a pot and pan, why on Mondia d’ya stick with makin’ cakes?”

Wally finished serving himself and sat at the table with everyone. “Well, aside from more personal reasons, there were dozens of cooks in Animana, but bakers were in short supply. After the war, everyone got used to making their own bread which, anyone will tell you, is the mainstay of any baker. So it was a difficult business, one where you had to be creative to survive. Everything about it appealed to me and the rest was just leading up to that.”

Polly attempted to speak in an ancient language that had never been deciphered, as it required the speaker to almost choke on the food filling their mouth at the time. As was always the case with innovators in said language, only a few garbled noises escaped before the food won out and made a direct charge on the throat. She beat on her chest to force down the mass of chewed rice, meat, and vegetables before it finally plopped into her belly.

“Chew then talk, sunshine.” Captain Blackeye nudged Polly’s drink toward her, which she happily gulped down to ease her throat.

“Captain,” began Hector. “I’ve been meaning to ask… A ship this size would need at least ten hands to manage. Even if you could do the work of five sailors, that’s still five short. What happened to your crew?”

“Gone on to betta things I bet. Told them I’d wait for the swell and sent’em off. That’s the way for us at sea. We drift on as the currents guide, maybe we run into each other on the way. But, some just stick with you… S’how I ended up with this little one here.” Blackeye patted his granddaughter on the head. “No doubt it’s clear she ain’t exactly the spittin’ image of this old fish. Her mam was a member of my crew ‘til she passed. She always had the habit to call me ‘pappy’ and it just kinda stuck, loved her the way father’s do and came time to deal with this one, I was happy to do it.”

“Mam was the ship’s navigator, so I do that now.” Polly said proudly.

“If I may also ask a question,” remarked Wistea. “How is it we were able to reach the top of the swell? I honestly felt as if we were going to tumble back into the ocean for a moment there.”

“Aha, that’s our Kettle Engine! Y’no doubt done seen the big metal bits ‘round the stern, yeah? That’s where the steam builds up from the boiler just under the galley. You take in sea water; boil it up ‘til y’get steam, then throw the switch by the wheel and OFF YA GO! Got it years back from a fella from Insicai named Rollo.”

Wistea suddenly sat a little straighter. “… I know I really should not be surprised to hear when one storied individual meets another but… You actually MET Rollo Poda, the so-called ‘Shining Star’ of Insicai?”

“Met ‘im? I carted him around Mondia for a year after the war was over. Said he was looking for something, didn’t tell me what ever. But he was a brave sort, liked him plenty, so I helped him out. Plus, I got to see some pretty amazing things on the way and he gave me the Kettle Engine as a gift. The God’s Fortune was already the fastest thing on any waters, that just made it even faster!”

“May I… See the boiler?” Wistea could barely contain her excitement.

Blackeye looked to Polly who happily hopped onto her feet and gestured to Wistea to follow. Her chair nearly toppled as she sprung from it and squeezed past everyone.

“Guess Poda was a big deal,” Wally concluded as he finished off his plate and set about cleaning the table. “Mind you the curiosity’s infectious now... I’ve been meaning to ask how you knew I used Fire magic.”

“You smelled like you’d been inside a furnace.”

Wally recalled being the center of a massive geyser of flame a few days earlier. “You could call what I did that…”

“Eh? Not that! I can tell that happened days ago… All magic usin’ folk got a smell to ‘em.” He gestures his fork at Rozzi. “She smells like a breeze o’ spring so she got Air magic.” He points to Hector. “This one’s a fresh rain, Storm magic. Your greenie friend smells like a mess’a flowers, Forest magic.”

Hector sat back. “Blimey, and I thought my nose was sharp.”

“Aaah, you’ll get there someday! Years of practice iz’all.”

“So you’ve met other people with Fire magic who had the power of insight?”

“All them magics come with lil’ extras y’never notice until you do. Fire folk shine their light on the absolute truth. Air folk are agile as leaves on wind. Storms c’n move faster than a blink when they want, Forests live long and hold onto memory like steel traps.”

“What about the others?” Rozzi said as she leaned in.

Blackeye grumbled a bit before leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms behind his head. “Ain’t gonna tell ya.”

“What? Why?!”

He chuckled quietly. “Where’s the fun in me tellin’ ya? Ain’t an adventure iffin’ I just toldja everythin’, eh? We meet some, then I’ll tell ya.”

Hector sat up, his tone serious. “Captain, Sir, I mean no offense but this is hardly an ‘adventure’. This is-”

Wally held up his hand, cutting Hector off. “He’s not going to tell us, Hector. His mind’s made up… We’ll be thinking on the fly half the time anyway, so better he tell us when we need to know it most.”

Hector stared at Wally for a moment before finally relaxing in his seat and going back to his meal, replying between mouthfuls, “Alright… But I don’t have to like it…”

---

A day away from port, the towering mass of water that carried them over the great expanse of ocean finally began to shrink, just as the captain had predicted. As the swell calmed, Blackeye saw fit to salute its passing and thanked it for the comfortable ride. Soon, when the sun rose to midday, Wally found himself looking out over the water again, but not in calm reflection. Something in the back of his mind raised a flag of caution that he couldn’t ignore. His legs felt tight and ready to hop, and his ears danced back and forth in search of something he couldn’t quite place. He approached Captain Blackeye slowly as the question he wanted to ask finally took shape. “Captain… Is it normal for there to be no other ships in sight this close to a major port?”

“The Lunar Swell ain’t exactly part of the normal ‘round these waters, but you’re right to worry. Gettin’ stiff gills I am, even if the waters got choppier than they’d ever been, there’s a few hard barnacles who’d sail out regardless. Should’ve seen one by now.”

“CAPTAIN!” shouted Polly from the crow’s nest. “THREE SHIPS! AHEAD STARBOARD! NO FLAGS!”

Wally and Blackeye turned their eyes and found the three vessels as barely dots in the distance. The reveal did nothing to alleviate Wally’s tension, in fact it only increased. “Something’s… Wrong.”

“Aye lad, don’t need your insight t’ know that. KEEP EYES ON ‘EM POLLY!”

“AYE CAP’N!”

“Mister Walter, take Mister Cani down to the Gun Deck and load starboard cannons, Proper knight like him knows how. MISS ORLAND! MISS FABOI! BE READY TO REPEL BOARDERS!”

Wally and Hector quickly rushed down to the gun deck, a small space with only four low caliber cannons, the kind best suited to a ship built for speed and agility over offense. Hector quickly walked Wally through the loading of one so he could move on to the other. As with everything he’d taught him, Wally caught on quickly and moved efficiently. He wondered for a second or two if that was the hard working kitchen boy in him or the knight he’d been fostering, and if their was even a difference anymore.

On deck, Rozzi kept her eyes on the approaching ships and her hand wrapped tightly around the grip of her sickle as Wistea questioned the Captain.

“So are they pirates? Corsairs? Privateers?”

“Pretty sure those are all the same thing, Wistea!” called out Rozzi.

“Preposterous! Why have different words for them then?”

“Greenie…” The captain almost growled. “They all the same when they tryin’ to cut your head off.”

Wistea instinctively reached for her neck and swallowed hard. “U-understood, Captain.”

Blackeye reached over the wheel to its pedestal, lifting up the brass cap there, revealing one end of a voice pipe. “You boys ready down there?”

Hector and Wally quickly searched the room for the source of the captain’s voice, finding the other end of the voice pipe at the far end of the gun deck.

“Aye sir!” called out Wally. “Just one question, who’re we even shooting at?”

“Hopefully no one,” replied Blackeye. “Defensive stance’s ‘til we know better.” Blackeye pressed on the center of the ship’s wheel, locking it in place. He headed into his cabin and from the wall pulled down his harpoon. It thrummed ever so slightly as he held it in his hands, its silvery sheen masking its age and exposing its mystical nature. A round dark blue gem seated in the foreshaft below the harpoon’s head flashed briefly as he gripped it. He then slid it into the slots stitched into the back of his vest and headed back outside, pulling the wheel lock out. He exhaled slowly as he took a loose grip of the wheel and allowed the rudder to drift slightly as he closed his eyes to focus his thoughts.

In his mind formed an image of a flat and endless ocean, in the distance; vague silhouettes of the approaching vessels appeared. The illusory ships caused the imagined water around them to ripple. Suddenly the ripples formed into waves and Blackeye quickly snapped back to reality and drew his harpoon. With the quick upward motion of it, a geyser of water rose beside the ship, and just as the sound of an approaching cannon ball reached the ears of those on deck, the geyser readily intercepted the shot, throwing it entirely off course and plopping it in the ship’s wake.

“Bilge drinkin’ scallops think they c’n take ol’ Blackeye from that far out… HAH!” the Captain thrust his harpoon in the direction of the ships and a sizable swell rushed toward them, forcing the ships off course and throwing off the following volley of shots just as they fired. “HANG ON LADIES, WE’RE MOVIN’ IN!” Blackeye spun the wheel hard and the ship took a sharp turn, now quickly moving toward the opposing vessels. “LET’S SEE YOU FIND YOUR RANGE NOW!”

Cannon shots flew over and beside the God’s Fortune as it charged toward the enemy flotilla with great speed. Blackeye called down through the voice pipe. “READY TO FIRE, STARBOARD SIDE!”

With the gunlock lanyards in hand, Wally and Hector readied themselves for the force and noise of the firing to come.

The God’s Fortune raced up to the ship furthest to the left of the formation, putting its broadside squarely in the cannon’s crosshairs. For barely a second, Blackeye’s senses picked up on something that made no clear sense; he quickly ignored it and shouted, “FIRE!”

The small cannons roared without fail, punting their ammunition into the hull of the enemy ship. Blackeye turned the Fortune for another pass as a bizarre sound drowned out all others. The air around the struck vessel began to shatter like heated glass and explode into a shower of what could only be called dark light. When the paradoxical cloud of non-light faded, beneath it was the rotted remains of a sailing ship. The wood was black and soaked, massive gaps filled with wriggling tangible darkness dotted the whole structure, and the sails were a tattered and stained mess of red cloth with a barely visible sickle of silver across their surface. On deck, the once barely visible figures of sailors became clear. To those aboard the Fortune there was no doubt, before them was a ghost ship, crewed by the dead.

The visibly damaged, waterlogged, and slightly bloated corpses of Icthyite sailors shuffled aboard the now exposed enemy ship, still working their stations long after life had left them. Rozzi could almost make out the sounds of their gurgling, raspy voices shouting out the Fortune’s position to whoever captained the ship.

The captain snorted scoffingly. “Isto the Red’s fleet… Back from the abyss. I’LL BE HAPPY TO SEND YOU ROTTING SCOUNDRELS BACK TO IT! WALTER, CANI, BACK ON DECK, CANNONS ARE NO GOOD HERE!”

The two other ships in the enemy flotilla dropped their illusions with as much fanfare as the first, repositioning themselves to assail the Fortune. As the ships turned, a figure was revealed on the largest of the three, positioned in the middle of the formation. Standing on the very end of the ship’s spar was the Ragged Rogue, his sickening and muffled laugh somehow crossing the distance. Rozzi grit her teeth to force down the feelings of panic that jolted up her spine, driving her mind to focus on the now and not her prior encounter with the otherworldly monster. As she did, she noticed something out of place.

The Rogue seemed larger somehow, and less patchwork. She wondered if it meant he was stronger than he’d been, and if so, were all of Kota’s Generals growing in strength?

Wally and Hector arrived on the deck just as the opposing flotilla had adjusted course.

“So its Ghost Ships now…” growled Hector.

“Aye, not my first either.” replied Blackeye who’d turned to face them. His attention quickly focused on Wally, who’d brought a barrel filled with cannon balls with him. “What’s that all for?”

“Well, I had a thought. Since we can enchant our weapons with magic, I wondered if one could do that with anything, in this case the cannons. Hector said yes, but there were two problems, One I’d only be enchanting the cannon, not the balls themselves, and two the more you use a weapon the more of your magic it can handle.” Wally set the barrel down with a considerable thud. “So I wouldn’t be able to enchant the cannon balls as much as the Flare. Therefore we make up for power with numbers!”

It was then Blackeye realized that Wally had easily carried a barrel full of cannon balls up from the gun deck without a drop of exhaustion or strain to show for it. “Just… how d’ya plan on doin’ that?”

Wally easily scooped up two cannon balls, one to each hand, and hopped up on the ship’s railing. Using his tail to keep himself steady against the rolling of the waves, he carefully gauged the distance between the leading ship and himself, and reared back his right arm. The ball was then engulfed in bright magical flame, gleaming like it’d just come from a blacksmith’s furnace. Wally then pitched it as hard as he could, striking the enemy ship across the bow with a powerful explosion of fire, shaking the entire ship from stem to stern.

“BY THE EASTERN GALES!” Blackeye watched in awe as the mystic fire danced across the old and seawater drenched wood of the ghost ship, spreading unimpeded until the waves coming off the keel doused them. “You pitched that faster than any cannon I ever seen! How in the world d’ya pack that much power in such a small body?”

Wally shrugged as he tossed the other cannon ball to his right hand and pitched it, blowing another burning hole in the nearest ship.

The captain laughed triumphantly. “RIGHT! Mister Walter to the foredeck! The rest of ya cover ‘im! WE’RE TAKIN’ THESE LOT HEAD ON!” He steered the ship hard to port to take them back toward the flotilla.

Wally hopped down, hefted the barrel and rushed to his place flanked by Hector, Wistea and Rozzi when he finally caught sight of the Rogue. Without a second thought he plopped the barrel down, picked up another ball and pitched it directly at the rag monster only to see the ball cleaved to pieces mid-flight, falling to the sides of the targeted vessel. Daylight glimmering on their narrow surfaces revealed the cause, thin snaking threads from the Rogue’s body.

“Of course,” muttered Wally angrily before a flash of inspiration overrode his frustration. “Rozzi! Come here, I have an idea.” Rozzi approached as he held up a cannon ball. “Now see if you can put your magic in while I do…”

Rozzi’s smile was almost devious as she happily placed her hand atop the ball. The sensation was an odd one as their magics intermingled within the heavy mass of iron, causing it to vibrate slightly. Briefly the two of them felt as if their hearts were somehow seated next to each other in their chest. Instead of mystic flames, what coated the ball was more of a halo of bright light that flickered like candle light over its surface. Wally pitched it at Kota’s General where, in mid-flight, it exploded into the form of a whirling tornado of flames that wildly veered off course and bashed into the vessel left of its intended target.

However, the force of the blast was enough to blow the keel clean off the ship. Dark tendrils desperately grasped at splintering, burning wood as seawater rushed in and began to drag the damaged ship back down to where it belonged.

The Rogue reached his hand out to the sinking vessel and the barely visible threads from his body yanked up several decaying sailors and flung them like violent marionettes at the Fortune.

“POLLY! JUMP DOWN!” Shouted Blackeye.

The young Icthyite girl quickly dove from the crow’s nest just as a strung along carcass crashed into it and shook the foremast. The captain caught her easily, setting her down on her feet. “Stay by me sunshine, things are gettin’ ugly.”

She nodded and gripped the hilt of her small dagger as she watched the other corpses slap hard onto the deck and railings. The undead sailors moved slowly at first, their rotten muscles yanking on the bones they barely held as they sloshed about in search of targets.

Immediately, Wistea whipped one off the ships railing before it could climb up, the sound of her vine striking it down almost a cue for all the others to mobilize. Wally kept throwing cannon balls at the flotilla, hoping to prevent the two remaining ships from firing anything else as Hector, Rozzi and Wistea moved to block for him. Hector parted one of the ghastly assailants clean down the middle, sparks racing out from where he struck, only to have both halves topple to the ground while still grabbing and flailing at him. “DAMN! Cutting them doesn’t work! Improvise!”

Rozzi smirked. “I got an idea! Wistea, can you try and herd them together?”

“Umm… OH! Yes! I can!” Wistea tapped her hand to the deck, a flash of green light sliding outward from her touch, followed by rapid shoots of bamboo instantly growing at bizarre angles, slamming into the befouled sailors and forcing them to cluster.

Rozzi quickly took up some spare rope from the deck and dashed around the amassed undead, wrapping it around them tightly before she handed the far end to Wally. “Flick of the wrist if you wouldn’t mind, dear.”

Wally looked at the rope and the struggling monstrosities before easily understanding her plan. Taking up as much of the slack as he could around his forearm, he dragged them off their rotting feet and into a spin. The disgusting mass rotated faster and faster over their heads before, with the suggested wrist flick, Wally flung the whole decomposing mess off into the mast of the second enemy ship, demolishing it and part of its deck as well.

Any possible celebration at the minor victories thus far faded from thought as the Ragged Rogue began to laugh once more. The sickly unnerving sound drew everyone’s attention, toward the general, still on his perch. “FLAREBEARER! I SEE YOU’RE FINALLY LIVING UP TO THE TITLE! WHICH IS WHY WE WILL SHOW YOU NO QUARTER!”

Everyone readied themselves for whatever could come, but it was Captain Blackeye to make the first move, slashing his harpoon in the direction of the ship’s aft, summoning a wall of water to block an almost unexpected barrage of cannon fire, two shots were stopped dead by the mystically aided water but a third slipped past and rocketed toward the deck where Wally leapt up to intercept, hooking his foot around it and kicking it away from the ship.

From behind the wall of water three more ghost ships appeared, approaching the battle rapidly.

Blackeye growled quietly, he hated running from a fight, but he could always see one he couldn’t win without losing more than he’d like. “MISTER WALTER!” He waved Wally in close and spoke quietly. “Whip us a distraction if y’can, we’re leavin’ in a big hurry.”

Wally nodded and spread the word quietly to everyone else who moved into position. The wallaby himself stood in the center of the deck and drew the Stellar Flare. “… Right, this should work…” He held the sword high above his head and took a deep breath. “EIGHT GODS INTO ONE MOMENT, FROM MY SOUL INTO THE WORLD! DRAGON’S CALDERA!”

From the blade sprung a spire of fire that rose into the air above the God’s Fortune and blossomed outward like an infernal fountain, cascading around the ship to flash boil the seawater beneath it creating a rapidly expanding fog of steam.

There was the sound of cannon fire, and old ships creaking before a piercing whistle and a rapidly accelerating God’s Fortune raced out of the handmade cloud, rocketing away from the deadly melee.

The Ragged Rogue shouted, “YOU USELESS UNDEAD SCUM! TURN THE SHIP! GET US OUT OF THIS FOG!”

The ships all groaned, creaked and shuddered violently, from what the Rogue could see of the other ships; they all seemed to be locked in place. As the fog lifted the reason was made clear. Dense ice had formed around their hulls, adding stress and weight to the already barely held together wrecks and locking their rudders.

A voice behind the Rogue spoke up. “It appears, my General, that Cofresi hasn’t lost a step, even at seventy-two.”

“BAH! MISERABLE OLD FISH! Ah… But I best control my temper. This can work for us, with them sailing to whatever safe spots they have, we can return to our mission. Now get us moving before I get bored, Isto!”

“As you wish, General.”

---

The God’s Fortune sailed until nightfall with all hands on deck, every set of eyes watching the horizon for any pursuers. Finally a large waterlogged cave provided the cover they sought to anchor down for the night. Once there, everyone was ready simply sit and rest out the stress of the day, but Wistea called Wally and Rozzi aside. She sat them down across from one another on deck. “Now, please hold hands.”

The two shared a speculative look before both shrugged and did as she asked.

“Now, channel magic like you would to enchant your weapons.”

They both looked down at their hands briefly with a bit of concern before looking up.

“Count of three?” Wally said.

“On three.” Rozzi answered.

They both silently counted as tiny jets of wind and wisp of flame danced down their arms. Slowly, the space between them filled with the same white light they’d created earlier that day. It was small, and flickering, and once again it felt as if, somehow, their hearts were beating alongside one another’s before the feeling quickly fated and the small light banished in a tiny tumult of wind and fire.

Wistea crossed her arms and hummed thoughtfully. “It is a start… The Wind and Fire attributes relate positively on the Wheel of Creation, so the two of you should be able to produce a stable unified result with some work. Maybe with a bit of practice…”

“Maybe they should kiss!” Shouted Polly from her seat on a barrel a few feet away.

Wistea yelled back over her shoulder. “Y-young lady! T-this is a very serious matter! Please do not disrupt it!”

“Huh, I was right; her leaves totally go darker when she’s embarrassed.” Rozzi said casually.

Turning back to the two of them she stomped a foot in frustration. “R-Rozzi! Please take this seriously, if you and Wally can combine your magic, it may give us a considerable advantage against that ghastly fleet out there.”

“Not tonight,” Captain Blackeye said as he finished inspecting the foremast for damage. “Need us all up bright and early, so we’re beddin’ down now. Mister Walter you’re on first watch so you sleep most of the night after your shift.

Wistea sighed. “I… Suppose we will pick this up tomorrow then.”

As everyone else set to leave, Wally began to stand when he realized Rozzi was still holding his hands.

Wally readied himself for more playful derision and teasing when he saw that Rozzi’s expression was one he hadn’t seen before. It was so outside her normal range that he could hardly recognize it as shyness.

“Wally… Did you… I mean, when we tried this did it feel like, I dunno… Our hearts were like, right next to each other?”

He nodded slowly. “Happened again just now, so I guess that’s supposed to happen.”

“Oh! Good, not just me then! That makes me feel a little better.”

Wally cocked his head to the side curiously.

“Okay so maybe, JUST maybe. I thought very briefly that… I dunno… I was holding you back.” Wally was about to say something when she continued. “I mean, you’re Mister Magical Destiny n’ you’re carryin’ around a literal gift from the gods and I’m just…”

“Someone who’s helped save my life more than a few times? Rozzi… Where’s this coming from?”

“I know, I know, it’s silly, but… It was there and if I didn’t say somethin’ it’d’ve just festered, y’know?”

Wally nodded again and held her hands a little tighter. “Let’s try it one more time before bed, eh?”

Rozzi took a moment to steady herself and nodded when she was ready.

As their hearts came into sync once more, the bright halo of light flickered into being once more before them. The two chose a single point within the light to focus the energy before finally, with a kaleidoscopic flash of light, a small whirlwind of bright orange flame danced in the air between them before flitting out of existence.

Overcome, Rozzi sprang forward and hugged Wally tightly, laughing happily.

Wally happily hugged her back. “There see? I knew we could do it!” He waited a few moments until she pulled away, except she didn’t. “Um… Rozzi…”

“Not done yet,” she replied.

Wally, if reluctantly, let her take the time she needed.

A minute or so later she spoke up. “You know I could just fall asleep like this.”

“Rozzi.”

“… Carry me?”

“Rozzi!”

“Alright!” She giggled and pulled herself away. “But I’m expecting double next time.”

“… What on Mondia do you mean by ‘double’?”

Rozzi smiled coyly and winked before walking away, humming happily as she went.

Wally sighed and shook his head, a clear smile on his face as he headed up to the foredeck to begin his watch. He began to idly play with the knoka nut bracelet his sister had given him before leaving home, silently relishing in the respite of the night, knowing moments of calm would become sparser as time went on.

<[Chapter 12]–[Index]–[Chapter 14]>