#planning to get his sig weapon again this patch

[empressqueen]

I really do get lucky when it comes to hydro husbando but no luck with their weapons 😮‍💨

I 🐳ed at Childe's banner bc of his Polar Star 💀

I mean, when is he gonna get a rerun again right? So I went all out for the original hydro hubby/waifu 💗

[chicgeekgirl89]

A Tale of a Fateful Trip: Chap. 2

Fandom: NCIS LA

Characters: G Callen, Sam Hanna, Kensi Blye, Marty Deeks, Nell Jones, Eric Beale, Otis

Read Chapter 1 Here

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Callen returned much sooner than he should have, a grim look on his face. “Radio’s out,” he said. “And I’m pretty sure even if the engine is working, we’re not going anywhere. The board does…not look good.”

Kensi paused her bagging and swiped a hand across her forehead. “And we’re too far out for cell service.”

“Does Sam have a spare radio?” Nell asked.

“He does,” Callen said. “But Kam is camping with friends this weekend and he sent it with her.”

“Well that’s perfect timing,” Nell said. 

“Did you find anything interesting up here?” Callen asked.

“Just your standard bullets and whatever shell casings we dropped,” Kensi said. “Nothing special or unusual that would help us identify whoever was on that boat.”

“Okay then,” Callen said. “And Eric? How are things over the side?”

Eric was still hanging over the railing and gave him a thumbs up without lifting his head. 

Callen nodded. “Excellent.”

Meanwhile downstairs Sam was pulling up the panels that hid the engine. The area was already full of water. Sam swore. “Get a bucket. We’ve got to get some of this out of here.”

It took them ten minutes to bail enough water out to find the hole. “I’m guessing we need to patch that?” Deeks asked.

“I’ve got some supplies in the wheelhouse,” Sam said.

“I’ll get it,” Deeks said, moving back up the stairs. He and Sam worked for nearly thirty minutes to get the boat water tight again. “It’s a temporary fix,” Sam said finally. They were both soaking wet and dirty with engine grease. “At least we won’t sink.”

“What about the engine itself?” Deeks asked.

“Too wet to say,” Sam said. “Might dry out enough on its own, might need to be replaced.”

“But either way, we’re not going anywhere for a while,”  Deeks said.

“Nope,” Sam sighed. “We’re dead in the water.”

“What’s our status?” Callen asked when they’d returned topside.

“Water in the engine,” Sam said. “The radio?”

Callen shook his head.

The weight of the situation started to fall over all of them. Eric lifted his head, eyes wide. “Are we—-“

“No,” Callen cut him off. “No, don’t say anything. Let’s just…take a moment, and we’ll figure this out.”

It was certainly something of a shock to all of them to find themselves at the mercy of the ocean. Not that they hadn’t been in tight spots before, but this one seemed particularly tight and unexpected.

“Oh my god, we really are an episode of Gilligan’s Island,” Eric finally said in horror.

“No we’re not,” Sam snapped. “We’re on a boat, not an island, and I have enough supplies to last us a month at least.”

“Yeah spare blankets and water bottles aren’t going to be much help if our new friends show back up,” Deeks said, sinking down onto the deck since they weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

“And I’m not really interested in subsisting on a diet of hardtack and MRE’s for the rest of my life, Skipper,” Callen said.

“Don’t call me Skipper,” Sam snapped.

“If Sam is the Skipper and Callen is Gilligan, who am I?” Deeks asked.

“You and Kensi are the Millionaire and his wife,” Eric said.

“What’s your reasoning on that?” Callen asked, pretending to feign disinterest. 

“Well they’re married.”

“Unless Beyoncé or Brad Pitt take a sudden interest in buying out the bar I think ‘millionaire’ might be a stretch,” Deeks said.

“And I’m not sure I’m good with being reduced to ‘and his wife,’” Kensi said.

“Wait,” Nell said, “if they’re the Millionaire and his wife who does that make you?”

“The professor,” Eric said with a grin. “Naturally.”

“I assume I’m Ginger then?” Nell asked.

Eric squinted at her. “No Ginger would be Hetty if she were here.”

“So I’m Mary Ann?!” Nell cried indignantly. “I don’t want to be Mary Ann! Eric I have red hair.”

“You can be Gilligan if you want,” Callen offered.

“We are not Gilligan’s Island!” Sam practically yelled.

“Okay, this isn’t productive, we can’t just sit here,” Kensi said, getting to her feet. 

“Some of us are lying here,” Deeks said, from where he was stretched out on the deck, an arm thrown over his face.

“Nell’s right,” Callen said. “We need to figure something out.”

“I can work on the radio,” Eric said right before he blanched and had to lean over the side again.

“Yeah I think maybe I’ll handle that,” Nell said, her nose wrinkled.

“I’ll come with you,” Callen offered.

“I’ll go take another look at the engine,” Sam said.

“And Deeks and I will gather up any other weapons and ammo we can find,” Kensi said.

“And I’ll—“ Eric gagged and then caught himself. “I’ll stay here.”

“Good plan buddy,” Deeks said, patting him on the shoulder. 

Nell stopped short when she walked into the wheelhouse. “Wow. Lucky shot indeed,” she said as she took in the damage.

It had apparently been more than one shot, the entire board was full of holes. She took a deep breath. “I think I’m going to need a drink.”

“C’mon,” Callen said, reaching out and touching a couple of switches, one of which fell off and dropped heavily onto the floor. “You’ve seen worse than this right?”

“Have I?” Nell asked, raising her eyebrows. “This thing looks like a piece of Swiss cheese.”

“Come on Mary Ann,” Callen nudged her shoulder. “The Professor’s been hit on the head by a coconut and the Millionaire and his wife are searching for their missing diamond so you’re our only hope.”

“Haha,” Nell said as she began to pull out wires. “You don’t have to stay up here with me.”

“Are you insinuating that I don’t have the skillset to help you with this task?” Callen asked with mock hurt.

Nell sent him a bemused look. “Would you rather I say it outright Gilligan?”

“Fair point. But I can hold things.”

“Fabulous.” She yanked hard and the entire top of the console came off. “Hold this.”

“Ah,” Deeks took a deep breath. “Nothing like an afternoon of weapons requisition on the high seas. Maybe after this we can swab the poop deck or walk the plank.”

“Don’t let Sam hear you say that,” Kensi told him as she pulled a Beretta from behind a wall panel. “He’ll probably take you up on it.”

“Touché.” Deeks looked at the weapon she’d given him and checked the chamber. “God this boat is better armed than the entire Navy. Where does he keep the grenade launcher?”

“I don’t think grenade launchers are standard issue for boats,” Kensi said as she clicked the panel back into place.

“Yeah well neither are Glocks, Sigs, and shot guns,” Deeks said. “I’m surprised the boat hasn’t sunk from the weight of the ammo on board.”

“And aren’t we glad he not only follows Navy mottos but the Boy Scout ones too?” Kensi said as she straightened.

“This takes ‘always be prepared’ to a whole new level,” Deeks said as he strapped a Glock to his thigh.

Kensi checked her watch. “Well I guess we’re not getting back in time for dinner with your mom tonight.”

“Gee what a shame,” Deeks said. “Missing dinner with my mother and her new boy toy might actually be the silver lining to this tragedy.” He scratched at his neck. “Although she is definitely going to freak out if we don’t show with no warning. She’ll probably call the Pentagon.”

“Well then at least someone will be looking for us,” Kensi said. “Can you imagine if your mom ends up being the one to save our asses out here?”

“Oh god,” Deeks groaned. “We’ll never hear the end of it. She’ll want a medal of honor.”

“Well at least then we’d be rescued instead of having to live out our days on a deserted island,” Kensi said. 

“I don’t know,” Deeks said. “Might not be so bad.”

Kensi raised her eyebrows at him. “You realize there are no cronuts on a deserted island.”

“Yes,” Deeks said. “But there are also no bad guys with guns. Or bills.”

“No indoor plumbing, no beer…”

“We can make coconut beer,” Deeks said then did a double take. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea.”

Kensi grimaced. “Yeah, no. It’s a pretty terrible idea.”

“Damn it!” Sam swore as the wrench he was using went splashing into the water. 

“Everything okay down here?” Eric’s voice drifted down the staircase.

“My boat is full of holes everything is damn well not okay,” Sam huffed.

Eric finished his descent and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “You need any help?”

“I thought you were losing your lunch over the side,” Sam said.

“I think the bracelet is finally kicking in,” Eric said, holding up his wrist. “I’m ship shape now!”

Sam studied him for a moment and then pointed the rescued wrench at him. “If you puke down here…”

Eric held up a hand. “I will not. I promise.” He took a step closer. “Mind if I take a look?”

Sam sat back. “Be my guest.”

Eric poked around for a few minutes. “Nothing looks cracked or broken.” He fiddled with some more connectors. “I’m guessing you got water in the fuel.”

“Yeah that’s what I thought,” Sam said, face showing defeat. “Nothing we can do about that out here.”

He tossed the wrench against the wall where it made a dull clanging sound before it dropped back into the water. “Hey, this isn’t your fault,” Eric said.

“I know it’s not my fault. Doesn’t stop me from being mad about it.” Sam was seething. “If I find out who did this I’m going to put them in the ground.”

“You could send them to Davey Jones’ Locker,” Eric said with a grin, which he quickly wiped off his face at the sight of Sam’s now perpetual glare. “Or not. The ground is fine.”

Sam stood. “Come on. Nothing else we can do down here. Might as well go be useful somewhere else.”

“Aye aye Skipper!” Eric said with a mock salute. 

“Call me Skipper one more time and you’ll be floating home in a life preserver.”

Kensi and Deeks headed up to the wheelhouse to arm Callen and Nell then met Sam and Eric on deck to do the same. “Any luck with the engine?” Kensi asked.

“Tank is full of water,” Sam said. “Can’t pump it out here.”

“So we’re sitting ducks,” Deeks said.

“Pretty much,” Eric said. “How’s Nell doing with the radio?”

“It’s a mess,” Kensi told him. “There’s wires and tape and I don’t even know what else.”

“I’ll go see if she needs any help,” Eric said.

“You doing okay?” Kensi asked Sam.

He shook his head. “I’m just sorry we’re in this mess.”

Deeks put a hand on his shoulder. “They got the jump on all of us. There’s literally nothing we could have done.”

“Hey,” Callen appeared. “Eric said the engine’s no good?”

Sam shook his head. “Looks like Nell’s our only hope.”

“So…no different from any other case?” Deeks asked with a grin.

“Pretty much,” Callen said. 

“So I guess we just…wait?” Kensi asked.

It turned out they were incredibly bad at waiting and doing nothing. And it didn’t help matters when half an hour later Nell and Eric returned, Nell in a particularly bad mood. “It’s totally fried,” she griped, dropping down next to Callen on the deck. “Nothing we can do.”

None of them liked being beaten. It might have helped if they could have just sat back, had a couple beers, done a little more fishing, and hung out while they waited for a rescue from some passerby. But with the threat of possibly sinking or their new enemies returning to finish them off, nobody felt safe enough to get even slightly inebriated. 

That didn’t seem to matter after a while as Eric and Deeks began to brainstorm increasingly complicated scenarios to get themselves out of this mess. “Titanic!” Deeks said with a snap of his fingers.

“Yes!” Eric said excitedly. “We just take the door off the wheelhouse—“

“No one is taking my boat apart anymore than it already is,” Sam growled.

“One of us could swim for it,” Callen said mildly, stirring the pot in the subtle way he enjoyed so much. 

Eric eyed Sam critically. “How long can you hold your breath?”

“What about Otis?” Deeks asked.

“What about Otis?” Sam was looking beyond irritable at this point.

“Lassie got little Timmy out of the well every week…” Deeks said with raised eyebrows.

“He’s not a trained monkey!” Sam said. “Besides, he doesn’t come this far out.”

There was a moment of stymied silence. “What if we manage to make landfall and spell out SOS in the sand?” Eric asked.

“If we make landfall I want my hut by the good coconut tree,” Callen said.

“First of all we’re anchored, second of all if we did make landfall it would be on an island controlled by the Navy, so we’d already be rescued,” Nell said.

“Smoke signal?” Deeks asked.

“Build a raft out of life vests?” Eric countered.

“Train two dolphins and water ski!”

“Oh my god I can’t live on an island for three years with the two of you!” Kensi said.

“You don’t want to reenact Castaway with me babe?” Deeks asked.

Callen raised his eyebrows. “In that situation, which one of you is Tom Hanks and which one is Wilson?”

“Oh my god, this is starting to feel a lot less like Castaway and a lot more like Lord of the Flies,” Nell huffed.

“I think it’s about to get a lot more Captain Phillips,” Eric said in alarm, pointing toward the water.

Sure enough the boat from before was speeding back toward them. “Everybody arm up!” Sam yelled.

They all ducked below the railing, weapons at the ready. “They’ve got us seriously out gunned,” Callen said as he cocked his rifle. 

“Then we’ve got to make them think we’ve got more firepower than we do,” Sam said.

“Any chance you’ve got a harpoon on this thing Captain Ahab?” Deeks called.

Within minutes gunfire began to pepper the side of the boat again, all of the agents returning fire as best they could with their limited supplies.

“I’m out!” Deeks yelled far too soon.

“Me too!” Callen yelled.

Kensi popped up over the side and spent her last few rounds. “That’s it for me!”

A terrible realization began to settle over the group as their ammo was spent. “Okay,” Callen said, voice slightly thick with emotion. “They’re going to take the boat. Do what they say. And if you can see a way to get out…take it. Don’t worry about the rest of us.”

Kensi and Deeks locked eyes, their hands automatically finding one another. Nell and Eric did the same, both a little pale. Sam looked at Callen. “I’m not holding your hand.”

“Wouldn’t expect it big guy.”

The gunfire intensified, causing all of them to huddle closer to the deck as wood splintered and flew in their faces. 

And then, when all hope seemed lost, a siren shattered through the gunfire and suddenly they weren’t being sprayed with bullets anymore. The team exchanged quizzical looks and then Callen popped his head over the side, ducking back down almost immediately. “Oh thank god.”

“What? What is it?” Kensi asked anxiously.

Callen took a breath and let his head fall back in relief. “It’s the Coast Guard.”

“Seriously?!” Everyone scrambled upward to take a look.

“Oh my god,” Nell said, thumping down onto the deck in relief. “Oh my god.”

“I will never make another negative Coast Guard joke as long as I live,” Deeks said fervently. 

The gunfire finally ceased all together and the Coast Guard ship drew close to them. “This is the US Coast Guard. Prepare to be boarded.”

Weapons were dropped immediately as they all found their badges and ID’s. Within minutes they were being hooked up for a tow as a second Coast Guard vessel appeared to help deal with their drug runner pals. “How on earth did you find us?” Callen asked one of the guardsman.

“Craziest thing I’ve ever seen. This sea lion came up to the boat and wouldn’t leave us alone,” he said. “We ended up following him and he led us right to that drug boat.”

Shock and surprise crossed all their faces. “Somebody owes Otis is a very large mackerel,” Callen said.

By the time they reached the dock everyone was exhausted and more than a little cranky. “Ow!” Deeks said with every move. 

“I told you to put on sunscreen,” Kensi admonished.

“I was a little busy trying not to die,” he shot back.

Nell was still bemoaning her inability to get the radio working. “If we’d just connected the—“

“Let it go,” Eric advised, putting an arm around her shoulders.

“You can’t stay on the boat tonight,” Callen argued with Sam. “It’s full of holes and doesn’t have a working engine.”

“I’ve stayed in worse places,” Sam argued back.

“Sam, why don’t you come to our place,” Kensi offered.

“Yeah at least we have furniture for you to sleep on,” Deeks said, looking pointedly at Callen.

“I have a bed!” Callen protested.

“Yes, one bed. Are you two going to cuddle all night long?” Kensi asked.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Sam declined. “My boat and I will be just fine.”

As it turned out it was not fine. The dockmaster wouldn’t allow the boat to stay in the condition it was in. “Well then Skipper, looks like you’re coming home with us,” Deeks said.

“You can rub some aloe on Deeks’ back,” Callen said with a smirk.

Sam wrinkled his nose. “Nobody had better be rubbing anything near me.”

[amymel86]

The Escape

A little continuation of a previous one shot - Snow264 (you’ll have to read that one first for this one to make sense)...

The woman doesn’t like talking to him. She’s still afraid, Jon thinks. There’s no trust in her eyes when she looks at him and it’s a sensation he’s not used to. As a Crow, Jon must rely and be relied upon by his brothers. They are trained from childhood to trust their fellow soldiers, trust their superiors and doubt only The Outside and the enemy.

Jon has given the nice looking woman his word that he will help her escape, but this is not enough for her. It perplexes him immensely.

He has been given his hours with her only once since first laying eyes on her campfire hair and her sky eyes and those special curves on her chest. She barely talks to him. Only asks questions about the bunker – how many guards, building layout, nearest exit. She must have experience with tactical movement on The Outside.

He wants to ask her lots of questions too, but he doesn’t think she would like that. Mostly, she gives him commands or sits on her cot with her arms wrapped around herself while ignoring his existence. Jon doesn’t mind her commands so much – they are different to when his generals holler at him during training or combat; softer but dripping in fear. He wants to tell her to not be afraid. Fear is not good for a soldier and Jon has had it beaten out of him.

He would never subject the nice woman to that though.

Jon wants to tell his bunkmates about her - to tell them that a woman’s body is smaller and softer and that they smell different.

She smells so good. The whole room that they keep her in smells of her and Jon would very much like to spend more time with that smell. It makes him wrinkle his nose at the scent of his own bunk.

He cannot tell anyone, of course. Not only has he been ordered to stay quiet about the new breeding programme, but he suspects his chances of helping her escape would be greatly hampered if he should tell his bunkmates of how nice women really are and how babies come to be and how he knows all this new information.

He thinks about all that new information he’s learned when he’s alone in his cot. The bunk lights are out and he feels the need to wrap his hand around himself while he thinks... while he... pictures things in his mind. He makes a mess and wipes it up with his undergarments. Normally, he’ll fall asleep pretty soon after the act, but recently he’s had trouble sleeping – trouble with disengaging his thoughts.

Broken sleep before a mission is not helpful to a soldier.

“What is your identifier?” Jon asks on this, his final visit before he makes his attempt at her escape.

She looks up at him, broken from her habit of pretending he is not there. She blinks. No words.

Jon steps closer, not liking the way fear rounds her eyes as he nears. “If I’m to risk my life for your escape, I would like to know what to call you before we do this.”

The corner of her mouth twitches. Her lips look soft. He’s almost overcome with the urge to brush his fingers against them. “Alayne,” she says. “My name is Alayne.”

The sound of it echoes in Jon’s skull. He simply nods. “Be ready,” he tells her. “Tonight.”

***

The nearest exit from where Alayne is being held is the supplies and deliveries depot. Jon had never been there before but he’d asked General Yoren what was there. Yoren was not quick to suspect or punish for curiosity - unlike some of this other commanders - so Jon had simply explained that he’d heard noises coming from that direction and wanted to be sure the bunker was secure – especially now they have a civilian on site. Yoren had snorted derisively. “Just where all yer food, uniform and gear gets brought in, lad. The noises yer hear are delivery trucks.”

This was useful.

Yesterday he’d managed to swipe a security card from one of the men in white coats. The man had left the room for a moment, clipboard in hand and never once suspecting that one of their obedient crows would rifle through his drawers while he was gone. Jon’s heart had been pounding in his ears. He’s never gone against protocol like that before.

His brother crows were deep in slumber when Jon slipped from his cot. He’d memorised as many security codes as he could from watching General Yoren intently the past few days. He ducks into the arms room before going to get her, feeling the need to at least have a SIG on him for this dangerous mission. The doors to Alayne’s room whoosh open and she’s already there, standing, her make-shift shiv pointing in his direction. She’s alert and clever. Jon wonders if this is a trait in all women. “Come,” he says, leading the way.

They find their way to the depot. Jon had expected the place to be empty at this time of night; expected to use the security card and swipe their way out. There were people – not many. Deliveries continued through the night, it seems. Ducking down behind a large crate, Jon peeks out to watch the truck now arriving – sacks and sacks of oats and grains. Five men help unload. Jon’s pulse is drumming in his ears. He needs to treat this like any other campaign on The Outside. Stay calm, stay alert. He glances behind him at Alayne. She’s clutching her shiv as she crouches beside him. Why does this feel so much more important than any mission he’s been on with The Watch? “We might be able to get in the back of that truck,” he whispers.

Alayne nods.

They have their chance a few moments later when the depot workers invite the delivery driver to sit with them for refreshment. “Come on,” Jon whispers. He helps Alayne up into the back of the truck. It’s the only time he’s touched her since that first day when she’d held his hands and begged him to help her. There’s electricity in her touch. Do civilian men feel that too when they touch their women? There’s not much time to ponder on it – they can hear the workers returning. “Here,” he says, hastily grabbing some of the sheets of tarp piled at the back of the truck. He tucks her under it and joins her there.

They are close – closer than Jon has ever been to a civilian. The colour of the tarpaulin is making her look blue. Jon doesn’t like her looking blue. He likes the warm colour of her cheeks and the fire of her hair. Her breathing is not steady, he can feel her hot breath on his face. She’s scared. They listen to the men. Someone has stepped onto the back of the truck with them. Jon can hear his workboots as he walks. He reaches for his SIG as they wait. He looks at Alayne, hoping she can see that he won’t let them take her again without a fight. All he sees is her fear and it twists his guts in knots.

The man merely bundles more tarp on top of them, the material crinkling as he folds it and tries to make it one, rather messy pile in the corner of the truck. Jon would be reprimanded if he’d left his uniform or bunk in half this state.

The footsteps retreat and they can hear the man pull down the shutter on the truck. A few seconds later, the engine starts with a rumble and Jon and Alayne breathe a sigh of relief. Part of him wants to stay here, huddled close to her for the rest of the journey – so close that he’s surrounded by that really nice smell of hers. But he cannot. He needs to stay alert – as soon as the truck stops, they will make a run for it. He hopes this plan will work.

***

It isn’t even an hour on the road and the truck has come to a stop. They stand there, listening to the driver alight his cabin and come ‘round to the back; hear the clink-clunk of him unlocking the shutter, he with his gun and she with her sharpened shard of plastic. The hatch goes up and a flood of light comes in, blinding them both. The driver shouts and Jon aim’s his SIG at the most offensive light. Glass shatters. The light is out but they’re not in the dark yet. Quickly assessing the surroundings, they seem to be at the back of a warehouse. Pallets of more sacks await to be loaded into the back of the truck. Jon jumps down and points his gun at the driver. “Back away!” he commands. “Hands up high!” He hears the light thud of Alayne’s shoes hitting the ground behind him. More men come out of the building, Jon points his weapon at them. None of them are armed. “Hands up, all of you!” They comply. “No one move and no one gets hurt!” He glances back at Alayne but she is gone. Panic rises. The last time he’d felt like this was when he was shot in the chest. Frantically, he looks for her, all while keeping an eye on the workmen.

“Hey, man,” one of them says, “ain’t you a crow?”

“Shut up!” Jon hollers back, turning his head to see where she’s gone.

“What are you doing out of the training camp?”

“Hands up where I can see them!” Where is she?!

It’s then that he spots her – a retreating form running from the warehouse into the surrounding black forest. She’s almost at the treeline. Jon’s heart beats painfully.

“Hey, yo. We got a problem at the loading b-“ one of the workmen had disobeyed his order and was radioing for backup. Jon shot at the ground by the man’s feet. He almost jumps a mile. His face pales as Jon continues to point his weapon at all of them.

“Don’t come after us,” he said, aiming at the remaining light illuminating the back of the warehouse before fleeing after Alayne. His breaths were loud here in the dark of The Outside as he ran and ran, his eyes fixed on the white of her top, the only patch of lightness in the dim of the early dawn. She disappears into the dark fingers of the forest and Jon presses himself to move faster than he ever has before.

Entering where she had, he unclips the small torch from his belt. She’d left tracks. “Alayne!” he calls, getting nothing in return. He’s breathing hard as he follows the tracks, his brow is moist with sweat. Jon stops every now and again, switching off his light and standing still, trying to calm his breathing so he can just listen – listen to the forest, listen for anyone who might be after them, listen for her. Nothing. His torch is on again and he continues his hunt.

Her tracks come to an end. Right in the middle of the forest - they completely disappear at the base of a tree. Looking up, Jon’s just in time to see her jump down from a branch, knocking him to the ground amongst the pine needles and spent leaves.

“Alayne,” he says again but as quick as a rabbit, she’s up and fleeing again. “Alayne!” He’ll not let her get away this time. He makes chase and soon is tackling her to the ground with a thud. She fights him – ineffectively, Jon will admit, but she is only a civilian lacking proper training so the odds are tipped against her. “Alayne!” he huffs sternly, pinning her down to the ground. The both of them breathe heavy as they stare at one another. “Why did you run from me?” She’s bathed in moonglow, filtered down through the trees. She has twigs and leaves in her nice campfire hair.

Alayne only stares up at him, chest rising and falling as she tries to calm her breathing. Her look becomes defiant. “Go on, then,” she spits. “Get on with it and then let me go.”

“Get on with what?”

“You want to fuck me, don’t you? You’ve played the hero and now you expect a reward.”

He does not understand her meaning. The only context he’s heard this word ‘fuck’ in is when General Thorne bellows at them that they need to ‘fuck up’ their enemies or in training when someone fails to meet target and the whole squad is told to ‘do the whole fucking circuit again’. Both of those sound negative to Jon.

“Alayne,” he says, “I don’t want to fuck you.”

She blinks up at him. In the light of the dawn her eyes look like deep, dangerous pools. “Really?” she asks. “Then, what’s this?” Her wrist slips out from under his hold and she reaches down between them to cup him through his fatigues. Jon hisses, his hips bucking forward into her touch. She finds him swollen hard down there and Gods, is there anything more pleasurable than this?

She strokes him through the fabric – barely anything at all but Jon feels like he might explode out of his own skin from the feeling of it. His breath is jagged and though he’s still on top of her, here in the dark of the forest, it is she who holds the power over him because just one intimate touch from her and he is utterly wrecked with pleasure. “Alayne,” he pants, his panted breath moving her hair. “Alay-“ Her smell, her soft curves beneath him, her hand where no-one had touched him before. It was too much. “Uhhnnn.” Jon saw little white sparks behind his eyelids as he screwed his eyes shut and made his sticky mess in his fatigues. He rolled off Alayne, lest he crush her from his weight as he collapsed, feeling both heavy and light all at once.

She sat up, looking down at him as he tried to level his breathing. The moon was caught in her hair. “That... that was... quick.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that. It’s true though – whenever he performs the act upon himself it takes him a lot longer to complete. Alayne smirks at him and he wonders what’s so funny? Was that wrong? That it had taken hardly anything at all for her to unman him? “Don’t run away from me,” he finds himself saying.

She studies him before she stands, brushing off the forest debris from her clothes. “I need to get back to my camp. My brother is there, and my boyfriend. Neither of them would take kindly to me bringing home a crow.”

Jon stands. “You can talk to your brother and this boy. I’m no threat to your camp, Alayne. I swear it.”

Again, her lips twitch into a smirk and again Jon is not aware of what caused it. “He’s not a boy. He is a man.”

“But, you called him-“

Alayne began walking. “My boyfriend, yes.” Jon followed. “Or, at least he was my boyfriend, before his stupid mistake got me captured by your lot.”

Jon said nothing for a while, walking beside her with a mess in his undergarments as they made their way through the forest together. “This... boy-friend. What-... what does that mean exactly?”

Alayne laughed. The sound – oh Gods! The sound! – it made Jon’s chest feel strange. “You don’t know?” Jon shook his head. Alayne laughed again – quieter this time, but no less lovely. “It means... it means he is special to me and... well, we are intimate together.”

“Intimate?”

“Yes... we... make each other feel good.”

“Like before? When you-”

“Yes,” she answers before he could finish. “Like that.” She turns away and Jon wonders if he had been wrong to mention it.

“Does that mean that I am a boy-friend?”

“What? No!” She stops to face him. Jon turns toward her too. “Look, if you’re going to help me get back to my camp and stand any hope of being allowed to stay with us, you need to not mention that, ok?”

His mouth was open. He closes it and nods his head. He may be forbidden from mentioning it, but Jon can already tell that he’ll never forget it.

Her eyes are glinting like moonlight on a lake. They bore into his before faltering. “Just... help me get back and I’ll try to convince them to let you stay.” Jon nods his head. Alayne begins walking again. “And you can call me Sansa now.”

Civilians are so confusing.

[mrpinchy]

Yoooooo where's Sig & Leon at? Are the boys alright? Please give me an update! I love them so much

@draevianAHH SORRY IVE BEEN SO BUSY but they are both doin good!!  I’m not really sure what to do with Nighthold storywise, if anything at all, but prior to the latest patch Sig and Leon have been very busy dealing with Legion nonsense and at least one trust issue between them.

MANY TEXT BELOW that i didn’t proofread so uh sorry if anything doesnt make sense lol i swear it actually does I SWEAR

–

Sig has been dealin with Highlord stuff that he is technically and emotionally unprepared for.  He has the Ashbringer but he himself is no Ashbringer, and no one mistakes him for it.  He never wanted anything to do with the sword but he couldn’t exactly scuttle out of this responsibility – several squads of knights from all Orders saw Tirion intentionally push Ashbringer towards Sig instead of Tyrosis that day on the Broken Shore, a final act that Sig (and most everyone else) is still trying to understand.  No one likes this arrangement (Liadrin does lol) but no one wants to challenge the fallen Highlord’s decision either, not even Tyrosis.  Not yet anyway.  

Sig has no power over the Orders either way.  The respective Order leaders do all the decision-making at the command table and his input is neither necessary nor wanted, but he still has to sit there and listen to them bicker and be present for other related business,. His role is to bring the Ashbringer to places where its presence will inspire and to occasionally wield it when the Order leaders decide it’s necessary.  Ashbringer itself responds consistently to Sig in combat and it seems content in his care, so that’s a positive at least. 

After what happened to Tirion on the Broken Shore it became clear the Legion was trying to corrupt the Ashbringer.  In order to keep such an important powerful weapon safe, the Orders unanimously decreed it must be in the company of it’s wielder at all times, meaning Sig has to take it with him everywhere.  He can’t even leave his room in the order hall without it.  If he has to leave the Chapel grounds for any reason, anything from combat missions to just going to Dalaran (if he’s even allowed to), he must take various precautions and be accompanied by special/discreet guards - not to protect him specifically, but to keep the sword from falling into the wrong hands again.   He’s basically just the Ashbringer’s keeper, and he might be ok with that job IF he had any sort of freedom whatsoever.  He’s not a happy boy these days but at least Leon is there with him most of the time.

–

Prior to the Broken Shore Leon had been having increasingly-troublesome dreams and strange feelings for several months.    He felt very strongly that he needed go somewhere, that the Light needed him for something, but had no clearer direction than that.   Even after acquiring a Benediction, even after the Legion invaded, the feelings gnawed at him.  He couldn’t shake the thought that he wasn’t doing what he was supposed to do.   

Leon interpreted Sig’s acquisition of the Ashbringer as the Light choosing Sig for a greater purpose (Sig strongly disagrees with this lmao), and though Leon stayed by his side in the following turbulent weeks, eventually Leon could not ignore his own calling any longer.  From talking to fellow priests in Dalaran he learned there would be a great gathering of many different faiths with the intention of learning how to better deal with Legion threat.  He made the tough decision to leave the safety of Light’s Hope to attend this gathering, and perhaps to find (what he hoped would be) the Light’s purpose for him.

Sig could not follow Leon on this journey thanks to his burdensome new responsibilities, but Leon was determined to do this alone anyway.  Ever since he was captured during the Siege of Orgrimmar Leon has been too afraid to travel alone like he used to. Tired of feeling helpless all the time, he saw this as an opportunity to prove to himself that he is still capable of handling things on his own.  They both knew how potentially dangerous this could be but Leon’s mind was made up.

Leon’s decision to make the journey is actually why they got married suddenly and quietly without any of the grand wedding plans Sig was so adamant about before. Since they both knew Liadrin (Leon knew her in the priesthood, and she is Sig’s boss of course) they asked her to marry them, and she was kind enough to oblige.  It was very quick and basic, the equivalent of a 30sec courthouse wedding, but it was official and that’s all that mattered to them.  

Unfortunately one of the first things Sig did as a married man was undermine his husband’s wish to travel alone.   He knew he couldn’t be there to protect Leon, and as much as he tried to accept this, it tortured him.  The last time he chose not to accompany Leon on a trip Leon almost didn’t come back (re: short boring errand to UC ended with priest being in wrong place at wrong time and getting captured by kor’kron oops), and Sig still has some guilt over that.  He NEEDED to know Leon would be safe, so he discreetly hired someone from within the Blood Knight Order to tail Leon and keep him out of harms way during his journey.  That person was Serat, not a knight by any means but a man of many means, if that makes sense.  Not someone Sig would normally trust but he was desperate.  Sig quietly took most of the gold he’d been saving for that now-unnecessary grand wedding to pay for Leon’s protection - half the gold upfront, and the other half to be paid when Leon was returned to him alive and safe.  It was VERY important that Leon never know Serat’s true purpose - Leon had to believe he was in full control of his own wellbeing.  

So, Leon left Light’s Hope and made the long trip to the gathering place.  Along the way he met several different priests, many recalling similar dreams and strange feelings as Leon had.   Serat decided the easiest way to protect Leon was to pose as a fellow priest and gain his trust as they traveled.  This seemingly simple adventure eventually led Leon to Netherlight Temple and his first meeting with a real naaru - which was unfortunately corrupted, seemingly beyond redemption.  Witnessing/minorly participating in the naaru’s purification helped Leon reaffirm his dedication to the Light and renew his passion for not only healing the wounded, but reversing corruption. 

Seratmade it all the way inside Netherlight before backing off to more subtle surveillance methods, in part because huge space windchimes and shadow priests scared him a bit.  Leon eventually does figure out that Serat was sent to watch him and he was NOT HAPPY.

Netherlight is also where Leon ran into Kethas again, a fellow elven priest he knew before the scourge invasion destroyed silvermoon.  In the years since they last spoke Kethas had been through his own share of troubles, the most obvious being that he had been afflicted by the worgen curse.  Leon is still afraid of wolves after what happened during the Siege of Orgrimmar, so that was a super fun reunion for them.  Huge wolf wearing robes and speaking thalassian at him was the last thing Leon ever wanted to deal with. Despite their differences they somehow got onto neutral terms at least. 

Leon stayed at the temple for a long time learning many new things from many priests (and a naaru wowee) and honing his healing powers.  His goal was to be strong enough in the Light to heal and repell the invasive, naturally corrupting powers of the Legion.  This was very important to Leon, especially considering Sig’s past struggles with corruption.  

Leon did not expect the Legion itself to come crashing into the temple.  He definitely did not expect Sig and the collective Silver Hand to come charging in and basically save the day.  He also did not expect to ever see a Light-redeemed demon. It was a very big day for Leon lol.  

Leon was extremely happy to be reunited with his husband but he was definitely angry about Serat.  Sig had a looot of explaining to do when they got home, but fortunately he didn’t lose all his gold to Serat after all.  The agreement between them explicitly stated that Serat MUST keep his true purpose from Leon, which he obviously failed at.  The agreement also stated that Serat was make sure Leon got home alive and safe before receiving the second half of his payment, but thanks to the unforeseen temple invasion it was Sig himself who fulfilled that part of the deal.  Serat wasn’t happy about any of this but it was hard for him to argue otherwise.  At least he got the first half of his payment, but you can bet Leon wasn’t happy when he learned what money Sig dipped into.  Things were weird in the hall for a while.

–

Since the Netherlight invasion Leon spends most of his time at Light’s Hope where he continues to study and strengthen his abilities.  To Leon, the huge purified demon sitting at the command table is a constant reminder that he’s on the right path.  

In the meantime Sig is becoming more confident in his role and starting to appreciate the Ashbringer a lot more than he did before.  He is getting bolder asking the Order leaders to let him fight more, and while some at the command table appreciate his conviction, he still isn’t given much freedom.

Very soon Leon will travel to Netherlight again, but this time Sig asks him directly if he can send someone to protect him.  Leon still isn’t happy about what happened last time but admits having a bodyguard isn’t such a bad idea when the Legion can appear anywhere at any moment (even in a holy temple gosh).  Leon requests that Serat accompany him again, much to Sig’s surprise.  Having a big knight at his side all the time is fine when it’s his husband, but otherwise it’s not the sort of protection Leon prefers.  He’d rather have someone capable but not so obvious, maybe even someone like a friend.  As much as Leon hated being watched, he never thought ill of Serat as a person and actually thought he was interesting to talk to at least.  

Sig is more aware of his rank within the hall nowadays. He has no power over the Orders themselves but he definitely has the authority to assign basic tasks to those beneath him, and Sig is happy to order Serat to go with Leon.  No down payments lol.  Serat’s own role within the Order and within the hall is shaky at best these days so he is not in a position to refuse.  

I’m not sure when Leon and Serat will depart for the temple because Leon’s birthday is next week so maybe I’ll wait till after.  

There’s a ton of other garbage that happens inbetween all this stuff but YEAH that’s what’s been up with Sig and Leon over the past few months :V