#yes that round part is to wind the gun up
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Sailing Close to the Wind
Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader
Word count: 8.2k
Tags: use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), CW food mention, CW violence, TW injury.
Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist
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CHAPTER 5 >>> CHAPTER 6
Trousers, oh you'd love to kiss the person who invented trousers. You can't climb a mast with heavy cotton skirts especially without anyone below getting a full look at what's under it. Not to mention how comfortable it is, granted it's technically not your trousers, it's a bit big on the waist so you have to use a rope and some type of knot that James taught you. The cotton shirt and lambskin vest makes you look like an honest to god pirate, you fit right in, if only you could get up on the perch without falling.
The wind is breezing by you as you find leverage with your foot on the iron footholds, your hands are clammy, eyes strained against the sun and wind. The height thrills you, reminding you of the time when you used to jump all-over roofs to escape coppers.
“Hurry up, gorgeous! I'm bleeding up here!” Yuri screams from the top, showing you her so-called injury on her palm. It's bleeding, yes but it definitely does not need any stitching.
You swear she's messing with you. Training you perhaps? But it wouldn't matter as you won't stay on the revenge for too long. According to Miles, land is close, a couple of days at most. You secretly hope it's more than two, you're liking your stay on Hobie's ship, dare you say you're quite fond of having the crew around. Minus all the rival pirates and navy ships attacking the revenge, maybe you'll love it more here if those events don't happen on a daily basis.
There's a sense of security on the ship or maybe you're just beginning to get used to the routine and you just don't want the routine to get derailed by leaving the ship.
Even with all the dangers of staying on a pirate ship, you'd like to stay a few more days on it.
Your mind flies back during the crew meeting a week ago while you're slowly making your way up towards the crow’s nest. You can still feel everyone's eyes on you but you've only got your eyes clocked on to Hobie's intense look, he's determined, lips curling into a smirk as he says your name in front of the crew.
“Lastly, we're gonna need scuttlebutt, she's the only person not known to the navy in the colony.” Hobie's voice tells the crew but his gaze stays on you.
“She'll be our distraction then?” Ned asks.
You suddenly feel sweaty in front of everyone's eyes.
“Aye, we've already discussed her part. She knows what she's gonna do.” He stares at you intently, addressing you only. “After that you can finally get back on land.” You nod, slowly. Hobie finally looks away from you, speaking to the crew.
“Everyone else just needs to follow her lead. This isn't your first heist, you all know how to work with each other, keep up with the plan and we'll get the documents we need.”
“Remember, distraction,” Gwen glances at you briefly, “no guns inside, we get in the governor's office, get the plans, we get in and we get out quick.” Gwen speaks up from Hobie's right, her tone is serious, the low lamps swaying in the ship's movement makes shadows dance on her face.
“After that a round in the tavern, right?!” Two-fingers shout from the corner, most of the crew cheers with him.
“If we do everything right.” To everyone's dismay, Hobie corrects the cheering crew.
Yuri faces Hobie with a stern look. “Then after that we get the bastard, we get our bloody revenge, and then we're done.” you feel the tension filling the cramped space. “We go back to what we used to do.” Hobie observes her quietly, “The sea is calling and we better fucking answer, am I right cap'n?”
Hobie inhales, you could only get a glimpse of his anger flash across his face. “Then we answer the call”
The sudden rhythmic stomping from the crew makes you jump, Pavitr turns to you, whispering close. “So you've already discussed it with the captain, huh?” he wiggles his brows.
“Really, Pav?”
He continues to wiggle his eyebrows that are weirdly flexible. “Is that all you've discussed? Orrrr” You roll your eyes.
“Pav?”
“Yeah?”
“Go jump overboard”
“If that will get you to stay then I will jump overboard.” He happily says, skipping away from you.
“Wait what—?”
Yuri reaches down, flexing her ringed fingers for you. “C’mon landlubber, I'll help you up before the wind takes you.” her voice brings you back to reality.
You take her hand, “Thanks, how did I do?”
“You climb like my old hamster. Very cute but not very fast.” Heaving you up, you finally reach the bird's nest.
The circular space is filled with random stuff hanging from the banisters. A sextant hangs on a ribbon on your right, an old telescope swings in the wind, hitting your shin. The basket of yarn sits by your feet, a pair of knitting needles lay next to it.
“Thanks?” you look around and the view takes your breath away, the sun shines brightly painting the open water in watercolor light. There's nothing but blue as far as your eyes could see, you've never felt tinier in your entire life.
Waves heading in different directions, seagulls circling above the ship, providing a chorus of unending squawking.
“You're welcome, pretty.” She sits down on a tiny stool, palm up. “Before I bleed out.”
You chuckle. “You're not gonna bleed out,” taking a bandage and ointment from your handy dandy trouser pocket, you squat in front of Yuri. “It's just a scratch, and here I thought pirates are all tough.”
“Am I a pirate? Haven't felt like it recently.”
You look up at her, pausing from treating her wound. “What do you mean by that? Of course you're a pirate.”
“You look like a pirate too, Y/N, but logically speaking, you're not one of us.”
“Touché” you continue to bandage her hand, there's a sudden weight in your chest. “And here I thought you're not a pirate?” You throw back her own words.
She laughs, the sound akin to tiny bells twinkling. “Oh I'm gonna miss you and your wit.”
You smile genuinely, “and my medical prowess too?”
“That and more, doc.”
“Yuri, can I ask you a question before I inevitably leave?”
She stretches her hand, trying out the bandages. “Finally!” You jump slightly. “And here I thought you would pass asking me all your incessant questions.”
“Am I that annoying?”
“Oh no you're not, don't worry, darling. We're just not used to having new comers, the last time we had one was a while ago. And that was Danny, bleh.”
“Great, and here I thought everyone hates it when I ask questions.”
“They do,” you blink, “but if they ever complain they get a stare down from Gwen so they let you be curious.”
You bite back a laugh.
Yuri crosses a leg over the other. “So what is your question? I'm dying to know.”
You clear your throat. “During the meeting–?”
“Ah that!” She leans on the railing, shoulders relaxed, face facing the sun as it bathes her in sunlight. “The whole revenge thing has put a stop to our usual…” Yuri thinks of an appropriate word. “Adventures, that's why I just want it done and over with. Three years chasing the king's flame is too long, don't you think?”
“The king's flame?” You try to recall his real name that you've read a few times in the newspaper. “Captain Mathias something something.”
“Oh he's something alright, got our captain's knickers in a bunch for three straight boring years.” She pauses to look at you through her eyelashes. “I hate the wanker as much as the crew but my god I just want to bring him down as soon as possible.”
Sighing, she squeezes the bridge of her nose. “The navy attack was a blessing in disguise I suppose, if not for the lieutenant singing we wouldn't get the information about his little travel directory.”
You nod. “You just want to go back to pirating, I get it now.”
She hums. “That's why I like you so much”
You look away embarrassed, clearing your throat, you continue. “About the whole revenge thing? Everyone dances around it every time I ask and—”
“Maybe you'll find out if you stay long enough.” She smiles, a genuine one without a hint of flirting. “We need you y’know.”
“I know but I've got my own path to follow.”
“Screw following your path!” She waves you away, clicking her tongue. You frown at her. “I know you're starting to like it here. Look, I'm not opposed to you staying, I haven't seen this crew this healthy in a loooong while. Not to mention, Hobie bounced back real quick after all the attacks. Morale is at an all time high.”
“Only because he had less to worry about, like the crew dying of infection and disease.” you scoff.
“No, it's the opposite, he has more to worry about.”
You quirk a brow questioningly.
“You're asking the wrong questions, doc.”
“And what questions should I ask then?”
“Why did the hellion flee? They clearly had us, they just had to sail to us, back up the smaller ship but they didn't, they stayed behind, watching.”
You blink slowly, contemplating. “This didn't come up during the meeting. Have you told Hobie?”
“Of course I have and he reacts the same way every time I express my concerns about his revenge plan.” She shakes her head. “Fuckin’ indifferent.”
“I can tell him, maybe he'll listen.”
Yuri gives you a look, a neat eyebrow raised, lips straight. “Please, he might actually throw you overboard this time. We've tried that, love, trust me nothing's holding him back. He'll only stop once he gets his hands on the captain and I don't think even death itself will stop him either.”
“What did the navy do to him to warrant that?”
“Y’know what,” she stands up, stretching her back. “Go back down to the deck, Hobie's been staring at us for a while and I think his iris is burned from staring too close to the sun for too long.”
Sure enough, you look down to see Hobie knocking on the wooden mast, the sound reverberates upwards. He looks tinier from up where you are.
“Come down here and make yourself useful!” his hands are cupped around his mouth, yelling out.
Staring back at Yuri, she busies herself with her knitting, crafting a dark blue scarf. She waves you off wordlessly, eyes trained on her craft.
You climb down carefully, making sure your foot has leverage and your hands properly holding onto the steel bars.
Your mind filters through more questions, why would the crew not just answer you directly? Why does everyone compare you to the mysterious MJ? What is up with Hobie and the navy—?
A strong gust of wind suddenly blows past. With your hands slipping off the metal, feet unhooking from the foothold, you fall. Barely letting out a sound, you close your eyes, bracing for impact.
But you don't land on the floor with a harsh splat, instead you feel strong arms enveloping you, a hand gripping onto your thighs tightly, fingers spread across your shoulder, holding and tender on your skin.
“Fuckin' hell!” You hear someone yell.
Cracking an eye open, you see Hobie's furrowed brows, chest heaving. After seeing you alright, his face morphs into the most smug look you've ever seen. His lips curling into a smirk, eyes crinkling in the corners, dimples in full display. With his eyes full of wordless teasing, he opens his mouth with confidence.
“Got you fallin’ for me now, hmm?” The sun shines behind him, giving him a heavenly halo above his head. You swear you want to punch it off his face.
Shoving yourself off his arms, he drops you unceremoniously, you land on your behind with an ‘oomph’. Hobie looks down at you with a growing smile, hands tucked in his pants, his casual shirt dances with the wind, giving you a full show of his exposed chest. You sneer at him, wanting to tug the strings on his shirt to close it and maybe strangle him with it.
“A thank you would be great” He snickers, “saved your life a few times now. We should have a board here that tallies it all down.”
You stand up, pretending to dust yourself off but in truth, your tailbone hurts. “I fell from six feet, I would've survived, thank you very much.”
“You are very welcome, scuttlebutt” you can't believe it but he still manages to irk you.
Sucking in your teeth, you exhale, letting out your frustrations through it lest you get thrown overboard by the captain himself.
“What do you want, Hobie?”
“It's captain to you.”
“Captain” you say with gritted teeth, eyes searing holes into his shirt.
“That's better, I need help with tying the sail down. The others are unfortunately busy”
You raise an eyebrow, “why don't you do it yourself?”
“The wind’s too strong, I need someone to hold the ropes.” Hobie points at the large flapping ropes tied around the main mast, it could take someone's eye out with how wild it's moving around.
“Fine”
—
You're practically hugging the entire mast, making sure the numerous ropes stay close to the wood, the hemp ropes slap you across the face while another gust of sea wind passes through you, fluttering your lashes. You're glad that you're wearing trousers instead of the usual long skirt.
Hobie wrangles the wild cords. You can't see him but based on all the groaning and frustrated grunts, the ropes seem to be winning.
“Alright, got this one tied—fuck!” You hear a slapping sound against cloth. Silently chuckling, you'd give anything to have seen that just now.
“Hand me the next one!” He yells atop the rushing wind. You blindly take a single rope, handing it to Hobie's side.
Waves crash on the side of the ship, rocking you back and forth. Good thing you're already holding on to something strong.
He grabs it, his hands grazing your palms. It's warm, warmer than you thought it would be, you feel his calluses and all the history around it.
This continues on until you're only holding onto one rope, you've practically memorized every indent and lines on his hands and palms. Hobie ties the last rope on the steel hooks, the muscles in his arms doing all the work, sweat drips on his chest, following it with your eyes. it's like seeing a carriage crash, you can't look away.
“Fuckin' hell” you fling your eyes away when you hear his tired voice, looking at anything else other than him.
You're glad no one's looking your way.
The wind whips your warm cheeks, incredibly thankful to mother nature, you look back at Hobie, avoiding his sweat covered chest.
“Last one, scuttlebutt.” He flexes his hand towards you, smiling brighter than the searing sun. Why was he so happy when he was attacked by hemp cables a few minutes ago?
Before you could give it to him, Hobie had a better idea. “Why don't you do this one? Learn how to properly tie a knot.”
“James already taught me”
He beams, “that's good then, go do it.” Moving aside, Hobie gives you ample space to tie the cord.
You begin to twist it around the hook, looping it around itself. Hobie sighs behind you, looking over your shoulder, he has his hands on his hips.
“Continue, let me see what he taught you, yeah?”
Going back to your knot, you recall James’ instructions, over and under, twist it around then tie it together. You're done, looking behind you, Hobie grins, nodding.
“Adequate.”
The pride in your chest dissipates. “Really?” You scoff out.
“Good, but not enough, here.” He walks towards you, standing so close to you that your elbows kiss his.
You smell sea salt and the distinctive wound ointment.
Hobie unties the last knot, “focus here,” he tethers it differently, practiced hands gliding along the rope. “Got it?”
“Y-yeah.”
He unties it again, handing it back to you. “Let me see then.”
You side eye him. “I saw it.”
“Prove it then” he smirks, leaning sideways on the mast, arms crossed on his chest.
You bind it together like he did, hands suddenly clammy, face full of concentration. “There?”
“Not quite. Let me?” He closes the small distance, hands gesturing towards the rope, you nod thinking he's about to show it to you again. Instead he takes your hands in his. Careful and gentle like a flower petal kissing your hands.
Hobie uses your own hands to tether the rope around the steel, your mind has never clouded this much but you're determined to listen this time or he might not leave your hands alone.
“D’you have it, scuttlebutt?”
You clear your throat before speaking. “Y-yeah”
He unknots it once again so you could do it yourself. Holding the rope makes you sweat more as his eyes observe you. You follow through, finally doing it perfectly, it's a bit wonky, leaning to the side but at least it's secure.
Hobie chuckles, clasping your shoulder briefly, not a second more. “Good job.”
You blink, “thanks”
He walks away, leaving you on the spot.
—
The revenge drops anchor further away than the main docks. You've arrived a day earlier than you thought. With your small bag of belongings, you grip it tightly in your hand. You haven't been this further south in your entire life. The air is humid and warm, the trees more scarce.
The anchor clinks against the chains, with one strong push of the large wheel by Finn, the metal comes tumbling down to the depths with a splash.
A ramp is brought down to the side of the ship, it bangs loudly on the asphalt. The crew rolls down barrels upon crates of things down as you watch on with a clenched jaw.
“You'll do great.” Gwen makes you jump in place, she looks at you apologetically. “Don't be nervous, I know you won't fuck up.”
“Thanks?”
She slaps your back, “No problem.”
“Ow” you rub at the small of your back.
One by one they walk off the ship, stretching their arms, some hoot and holler. The late afternoon sun doesn't help with your nervous sweats as you carefully make your way down the ramp.
Finally standing on solid ground, you wobble a bit on your feet, too used to the rhythmic rocking of the ship.
Hobie jumps off the ramp following after you, his boots thud against the ground, heavy leather coat scraping by his shoes. His usual hair is tied in a ponytail hidden under a tricorn hat.
“Is this supposed to be your disguise?” You question him.
He whirls around, smiling almost immediately. “You'll be surprised at how many people don't recognize me in this.”
“Sure–” A crowd of children saunters over to the crew. Your eyes widen at the sight, their faces unafraid, giggling amongst themselves. “Uhh?” You point.
Hobie twists around, bringing your hand down for you. “Calm down, they can smell fear.”
“W-what?” You hide behind Hobie's large coat.
“You're all a sight for sore eyes, eh?!” Hobie bends at the knees while the children greet him with smiles and high fives. Pav and the rest of the crew join in, laughing while some happily chat with them.
“Open the crates,” Hobie calls above the chatter. “Give them the supplies.” He holds a child by his feet, swinging him while more children gather around him, calling for Hobie to swing them around too.
You watch quietly as the crew gives the gaggle of children some food, blankets and coins.
“How's your mum?” You hear Hobie ask a brown haired child. She whispers to him timidly. “Yeah? That's good, give her this bag, tell her it's for medicine.” Hobie hands her a clinking bag, the girl nods, smiling at Hobie.
Your heart warms at the sight, Finn gives the children piggy back rides as he gives them bread that you helped bake. Gwen talks quietly with a silver haired boy, Miles fights off a handful of children as they poke his pockets for coins. Pavitr’s handing each child a fleece blanket, laughing as he covers their heads with it.
You can't believe your own eyes.
A brown eyed girl tugs at your jacket. Looking down, you smile politely at her. Kneeling down to her height, she gives you her best puppy dog eyes.
“I know you're good but give it back, please?” You say while you offer her your open hand.
Her facade breaks, rolling her eyes. “Fine.” she hands you back your coin pouch.
“Need more practice,” you chuckle, standing to your full height.
“Ugh, I know!” She skips off, heading towards Ned.
“That's Estelle, quite a pickpocket huh?” Hobie appears next to you, a couple of children clinging on to each of his legs.
“Yeah, caught her with my coins though.”
“She needs more practice”
You laugh, “that's exactly what I told her.”
Hobie smiles, there's a comfortable silence between you. Just watching everyone interact with the children, more people arrive on the dock, both children and adults alike. They smile and wave. Surprisingly, Hobie waves back with a bigger smile. The children on his legs run off to what looks like their parents. Your smile falters.
Something pokes your side, you look down, finding a book poking you.
“What's this?” you ask, taking the book from Hobie.
“Farewell gift, I figured I won't have the time to give it to you after we take the papers”
Reading the title, you giggle, a smile coming back to your lips.
“‘How to conquer your fears volume five: Learn how to swim by Sir Riordan of Canterbury’ of course it's this book. I can't believe it took him five volumes to write this one.”
“Thought you might need it on your adventures.” He turns to you fully, eyes roaming around your face.
You're about to thank him, despite everything that happened, he let you stay, if it was any other pirate ship you'd be dead. Before you could say your piece, Hobie holds out his hand for you to shake.
“Good luck, Scuttlebutt. I can't say you were a pleasure on board but I'm glad you're not navy” you take his hand, shaking it, he tugs you closer, whispering in your ear, his breath fanning across your cheek. Sea salt and leather captures your senses.
“I better see you later or I'll—’’
“Or you'll hunt me down, I know, follow the plan. I won't let them down.” You lean away, cheeks warm, hand still holding his. “I promise.”
His grey eyes swirl, smiling at you. “Good, you're learning.”
“Surviving” nodding, you don't back down from his stare. “I'm just surviving.” you clasp his hand tighter like a hidden threat before you let go.
—
A shot rings out. You scream bloody murder before running frantically out the dim alleyway, sprinting towards the guards guarding the manor. Your barebones shoes clack on the rocks, feeling the jagged edges through your soles, you keep running, calling for help. Frantic shadows dance around your peripheral, footsteps as quiet as the night.
Reaching the silver gates, you bang on the metal. “Guards!” You screech, a couple of young guards sprint towards you, muskets raised in your direction.
“Stop right there! This is private property!” One says, you can smell the ale on his mouth from where you're standing.
This will be easier than you thought. Hopefully.
You heave, playing the part of a damsel in distress. “It's my brother! He's been shot, please help him!” Taking the younger guard’s hands through the metal gate, you flutter your eyelashes. “Please.”
They look at eachother, muskets pointed away from you. You grip his gloved hand tighter for emphasis. Wordlessly, they converse, eyes flitting between you and the manor.
“Please I just need someone to carry him to the hospital.” You shakily take your coin pouch out, the contents clinking against each other. “I can pay,” your eyes water. “I can pay both of you.”
With a nod and a smirk from the older guard, they open the gate, promptly closing it behind them.
“Thank you! Oh thank you!” Leading them towards the alleyway, you speed walk back. “This way, hurry!”
They obediently follow you into the dark.
You step into the darkness, they look around the empty alleyway, “oi! Where's—?”
Yuri emerges from the darkness accompanied by Finn, their guns drawn pointing it right at the guards’ temple.
“Don't move,” Yuri says with a tilt of her head. “Or…you know what happens next.”
You look away before a metal hits flesh in a sickening thwack! They drop harshly on the ground, your cue to look back.
Finn drags the bodies further into the alleyway, away from any prying eyes. You step to the side, giving him space.
“Good job, have you ever thought of a career in theatre?” Yuri asks, sporting two new muskets strapped to her back.
You wipe your eyes free of unshed tears. “I'll think about it.”
“This is it then, landlubber? I really hope I see you again.” She holds your elbow, surprisingly, you don't flinch away.
You fondly smile at her, “Me too, Yuri but I think I'm still needed here.” Your trouser pocket clink as you tap it.
Meanwhile, Hobie and the trio sneak into the manor that's now left unguarded. They go around the large home, finding a servant's back door. Gwen jiggles the doorknob.
“It's locked.” She whispers, kneeling down, she takes a lockpick from her belt. Hobie and the others watch her back.
After numerous tries, the lock pick breaks. Gwen clicks her tongue, taking out another lockpick.
Seven lockpicks later, sweat dribbles on Gwen's neck, the door still sits locked. She looks at Hobie frustrated, brows knitted together.
“Hey!” You whisper shout. All four of them look at you, eyes wide, eyebrows raised. Taking out the ring of keys, you show it to them with a large grin.
Hobie jogs over to you quietly, the full moon watches his lips slowly curve into a smile. “How'd you—?”
“Pickpocketed it from the guard.” You smile back, “that's a new lock.” You gesture with your chin, whispering your words. “The usual lockpicks won't work on it. Here” giving the keys to Hobie through the gate, his hand linger on yours as he looks at you with shining eyes. “What?”
“You–” he chuckles. “You know how to pickpocket?”
“What? Like it's hard?” You joke, earning a deep laugh from Hobie.
“How do you even know about the locks?”
“Look who's asking the questions now,” you smirk. “I'm full of surprises I guess.”
After a beat, he stares into your eyes. “Stay with us”
Your heart skips a beat. “What?”
“I know you heard me, scuttlebutt.”
“I–” you consider it, but what would happen if you stayed? What would happen if you join and they still leave you down the road? It's better to go now and save yourself from the heartache.
“I can't” you let his hand go. “I have to go. Good luck, Hobie”
Walking away, you didn't miss how his smile falters.
It's better this way.
—
The smell of the musty tavern brings you back. A plate of ham and beans left almost untouched, it's not the same as Finn's. it tastes like tree bark compared to your meals on the ship. Huddled in a corner, you mindlessly read the book Hobie gave you, its pages pristine and well taken cared of.
You shut it closed, with your eyes growing heavy, you wonder where you're going to be sleeping tonight.
The doors bang open, a loud rambunctious group saunters in, yelling for drinks.
“First round’s on Gwen!” Someone shouts.
“I don't even drink, you fucker!” Gwen shouts back.
Wait, Gwen?
“Gwen?” You mumble.
Like fate, Gwen finds you amidst the crowd. Her eyes widen right before a smile replaces it.
Pavitr yells your name first, pointing at you like he hasn't seen you in years. Everyone follows his finger, the rest of them cheer, pushing patrons away to get to you. James shoves Danny out of the way, taking the closest seat next to you.
Ned grabs both of them by the hem of their shirts, “give her some space, fuckin' hell!”
You give him a smile as thanks, he nods once, mock saluting you.
Yuri guffaws loudly. “I knew it! We're meant to be together, eh?” She shakes your shoulder, planting a loud smooch on top of your head. You giggle, waving her away.
“Alright, let's all calm down.” You laugh loudly, “Mug, watch your stitches!”
“Sorry,” he murmurs.
Gwen sits next to you with a small smile while half of the group head on to the bar to order their alcohol.
“How'd it go?” You whisper to her, “where's Hobie?”
“Everything went well.” Her eyes darted all over the place. “Hobie went back to the ship to store the papers.”
“What's wrong?” You look around, trying to find what's gotten her nervous. “You alright?”
“Yeah, it's just—I don't know.”
“It was too easy.” Miles pipes up, handing Gwen a cup of something warm.
“That,” she nods as thanks to Miles, sighing. “He's right, it seemed too easy. We sneaked in, never making a sound.” She whispers closely. “We only saw three housekeepers in the entire manor and you know how these officials are.” you nod. “I'm just keeping an eye out for everyone, just in case.”
“That's why we chose this tavern, it's far from the manor.” Miles explains. “What are you doing here anyway? Aren't you supposed to be out and adventuring right now? Y’know ‘finding yourself’” he makes quotation marks with his fingers.
“I was just resting. Am I not allowed to rest?” You sarcastically say.
“Oh I'm not gonna miss you on board.” He sips from his cup.
“Sure, say how's that tea taste? Like shit right? I bet you're gonna miss the brew I always make for you” you ask with a teasing smile. Gwen chuckles next to you.
“You're horrible.” he says into his cup of swirling dark liquid. A ghost of a smile hiding behind the ceramic.
A bundled loaf of bread drops in front of you, almost shattering the plate of so-called ham and beans. Looking up, you see Finn nodding at you.
“Thank you, Finn.” You smile at him, he grunts in reply, heading towards the rest of the group.
Pav visibly sags into his chair, blowing his bangs out of his face.
Used to his attitude, you tilt your head, asking him. “What is it, Pav?”
“I'm tired,” he sighs. “And I'm gonna miss you.”
You feel heat behind your eyes. “I'll miss you too, Pav, and our late night talks.”
“You kept me awake,” you chortle. Pav tentatively reaches for your hand over the table, letting him in, you open your palm wordlessly. “I guess we didn't hit any rocks because of you chattering endlessly. So thank you.”
You smile, squeezing his hand once.
He drops his sadness, going back to his usual self. “Are you sure you can't stay? Come on! We've got…” he thinks for a second, finding the bread on the table he gestures towards it. “Bread!”
“A lot of places offer bread, Pav”
“Yeah, but they're not Finn's bread”
He's right, they're not Finn's, or Gwen's or Miles’ or Hobie's. They're not from the crew and nothing will ever be once you finally leave. Despite all of these, you smile, standing up with shaky legs.
“I have to go.” Your small voice echoes in their ears, they look at you with fond smiles. “Thank you, really.” You think about hugging them but you change your mind last minute, it's better this way, you say to yourself.
You wave goodbye, fighting yourself from looking back.
Exiting the tavern, the cold evening air blasts your cheeks, a tear escapes and you wipe it immediately.
“Y/N, wait!” Gwen runs after you. You stop in your tracks, looking over your shoulder with a sad smile.
You can't keep doing this, you need to leave, your mind tells you but your heart says otherwise.
“Here.” She hands you a hefty bag of coins, the pouch is pink with her name embroidered on it. “for your travels and as a thank you for helping with the crew.”
You shake your head, “I can't take this.” Pushing it back towards her. She gives you a stern look worthy of a first mate. “Gwen, I can't. Give it to the children, I don't want it.”
“You won't survive another day with what you have on you right now” before you could protest, she stuffs it into your bag. “You can pay me back when we meet again.”
You nod, “Alright, I'll pay you back. I promise”
“Good luck and I don't know if this might be helpful but we're heading north. If–if you want to come aboard again we'll be near the thousand islands. Waiting” the moonlight illuminates her sad eyes.
“Thank you, I'll think about it.” You turn around but you look back against better judgment. “Can you tell Hobie…just say thanks for me.”
“Will do Y/N.” Gwen smiles genuinely at you.
So you walk with no true destination. You roam around on your tired feet, waiting until something happens, you don't know what it could be and you're too fatigued to think right now.
A cat meows in the alley, followed by a chorus of soft mewls. Its bright green eyes blink slowly at you, an orange tubby and cream colored cat sidles up to the black cat. They meow simultaneously, getting your attention. Their noses probably got a whiff of the ham you've pocketed.
“Hungry?” You squat, taking the covered ham to give it to them. They take bites, sharing the meat with each other. “Yeah, I know the feeling.” sighing, you look at the end of the alley, your heart almost falls when you see the same engraving of a bird taking flight stamped on the side of a crate, followed by another and another.
“What the fuck.” You speed walk towards the docks, ankles hurting from all the running you've done. “Hey!” You yell at a worker who's currently loading the crates in a ship.
“Oi yourself” he turns around, hands on his hips.
You try to catch your breath, “what's that?” Pointing at the crate, the man looks at you like you've lost your mind.
“A fucking crate, love. You haven't seen a crate before?”
“No, I meant the design, the fucking sigil.”
“Ah, it's clearly a blue jay. look at its tail.” he gestures at the tail.
“That's— that's not what I was asking but thanks, I guess. I meant the sigil. What does it mean? And where is it going?” hope fills your chest.
“I dunno about the symbol, I just haul them in. As for where we're going, I'll tell you. For a price of course.” He smiles, showing his teeth with one gold fang.
“Fine.” You don't hesitate giving him a coin.
He chuckles, pocketing the money immediately. “Further north, near the capital.”
“The capital.” this is your chance so you take it. “How much? How much to board?”
He laughs at her face. “If only you were a man!” He eyes her up and down. “Clearly you're not.”
You scoff, glaring at the man. “You're fucking nasty.”
“Y/N?” The simple call of your name sends shivers down your spine.
Your heart stops beating for a second, you bolt it out of there without looking back at him. You know it's him, his booming voice yells after you, loud footsteps echoing in the night.
“Y/N!” Miguel yells.
His partner appears from an alleyway, you sprint past her without sparing her a glance.
“Whoa!” She yelps, almost falling on her back.
“It's her!” he screams, voice cracking from the sheer volume. “Lyla, it's Y/N!”
“Oh shit!”
You hear two sets of running footsteps behind you. There's no advantage for you this time, you don't know the city and its streets. It's only a matter of time before you walk into a dead end.
“Fuck!” With your aching knees, thighs burning, lungs gasping for air, you head towards the only sanctuary you can think of and where people can help defend you—The tavern.
You can feel him getting closer and closer to you, turning a corner, your ankles almost give out from the sudden turn. “No, no, no!” Limping slightly, you continue to run as fast as you can with a sprained ankle.
“Y/N, please!” His partner yells.
The familiar roof of the tavern peeks over all the houses, a beacon of hope for you. With a sudden tug on your arm, your body harshly takes an unwanted turn to the right. Strong yet familiar set of arms holds you, a calloused hand covers your mouth as you struggle to get out of the alcove.
“Calm down, it's me.” He whispers close to your ear.
You stop your squirming, looking up, Hobie's serious face looks at the opening of the alcove, eyebrows knitted together in anger.
Your back is squished on his chest, shaking hand holding his wrist. The dark alcove saves you as Miguel and Lyla run past.
Hobie takes his hand off your mouth, you heave, almost falling to your knees if not for him still holding on to you.
“Thank you.” You whisper like he could still hear you.
“Why is the former admiral comin' after you?” He turns you towards him in the cramped space, your knees banging on his legs, hips dangerously close to his.
“What? He's an admiral?” There's no way he's an admiral. You try to remember the day but it's been years, you don't recall him ever wearing a uniform.
“Yeah, he's—” Hobie shuts up, hearing voices from outside your little alcove.
It's him.
You look behind you and it’s a dead end. Craning your neck up, you have an idea.
“We need to climb up.” You quietly say, heart beating rapidly.
“Are you sure you can do it?” He looks at your swollen ankle.
You nod, “I don't have a choice.”
Hobie nods, lips tightly closed. “Alright. You go first, if you fall I'll catch you, again.” He doesn't waste an opportunity does he?
With your feet laying flat on the wall and your hands on the other side, back straight. You slowly make your way up. Hobie's close behind you, doing the same but managing his speed, slowing down for you.
Looking down, you almost fall as your ankle throbs.
Miguel's voice echoes out in the darkness, he's close.
“It's alright,” Hobie encourages you. “I'm right here, yeah? If you fall we'll run, even if I have to carry your arse out of here.”
Why couldn't your savior be Gwen?
With a roll of your eyes and a groan, you continue to climb up. Finally reaching the top, the moonlight greets you. Hobie helps you up by pushing you up by your feet, careful of your injury.
Laying down on the sodden roof. You roll over to the side to help him up by his hand, pulling with all your might.
Hobie climbs over the edge, laying down next to you, breathing heavily.
“I underestimated the height of that.” He says in between breaths.
“I underestimated how heavy you are.”
He pats his stomach. “This is pure muscle, trouble.” turning to face you, his piercings shine in the evening's light, smile across his lips like you're not hiding from someone.
“Full of Finn's stew more like.”
“I'm a growing boy, I need the sustenance.” he twists, looking below. “They're gone, I see them walking back towards the docks.”
You let yourself breathe again, head thumping on the roof. “Thank fuck.”
“Don't you mean thank me?” Hobie lays down next to you again, you groan in reply. “How's the ankle?”
“I think it's just sprained—” A twig snaps, you swear the roof caved in a bit. “What was that?”
“Shit, I think it's the—”
Crack!
The roof caves in, Hobie lunges for you mid air, holding on to you, hand guiding your head on his chest as he braces for impact.
You land on top of Hobie, he groans in pain, your eyes adjust at the candles littered around the frilly room.
“Shit! Are you bleeding? Please don't tell me you hit your head!” you frantically pat behind his head. Instead of warm ichor, you feel something soft.
You pull it out from behind his head without warning. He yelps when his head hits the carpeted floor.
Wincing, you apologize. “Sorry.” looking at the pillow in your hand, you're more confused than ever. More confusing than the sight of a crystal ball sitting in the middle of the table.
Roaming your eyes, you stop at a woman clad in furs and velvet, she stands frozen with her teacup in her hands.
“Uh, welcome to Nellie's?”
—
You're incredibly glad Nellie's nice, she even gave you ice for Hobie's back, ice! In this season! There's also ice on your swollen ankle, the cold seeping through your skin, giving you reprieve from the pain. You bet she's rolling in coins judging from all the generous ice she's given. Maybe you should learn how to be a fortune teller from her. You think about asking her if she needs an apprentice.
After dropping off almost half of Gwen's money to pay for the roof, you stare at it longingly, already missing its weight inside your bag.
She comes out of her kitchen, the beaded curtains flutter as she moves through it.
“Shoulders.” Hobie grumbles. He sits next to you, back hunched while you hold the ice on his back for him. “Y/N, move the bloody thing.”
“Right, you can say please, you know.” You slide the cloth covered ice up to his shoulders, he hisses when you hit his tender muscle. “Sorry, my fault.”
“Definitely your fault.” He quietly says with a pout.
“Oh don't be such a baby,” Nellie drops off a silver tray full of tea and crumpets. “I foresaw that you'll heal in no time.” she says with a smile.
Hobie raises a brow skeptically. You wordlessly communicate with him, telling him to shut it or she might call the coppers on you two. He sighs, rolling his eyes, taking a bite of a crumpet.
“So Nellie, you're a fortune teller huh? How exactly do you uh do that?” You ask, making conversation, careful of your words.
“I'm so glad you asked!” she giggles excitedly, pouring you and Hobie a cup each. Nellie drops a cube of sugar and milk in yours just like how you like it while Hobie gets three cubes. Wait.
Hobie beats you to it, “How'd you know I like my tea with three sugars?” He says with his mouth full.
Nellie smiles, tapping her temple. “I have the gift.” She sits down across from you, “although it's not always accurate, but I give it a” she sucks in her teeth, thinking. “Eighty percent chance of being right? My trusty crystal ball helps in filling the gaps.”
She gestures around the ball, making whooshing sounds.
You and Hobie share a look.
“Do you want a go?” She flicks her different colored eyes at you two. “I'll throw it in for free since you paid me already for the damages. I know I'm incredibly nice, no?”
You have nothing to lose, and you have to wait until Hobie recuperates. Said man eats his third crumpet.
“Sure, why not, right?” you chuckle nervously.
“Lower back.” Hobie instructs, you scoff before doing what he asked. He did save you again, that's the only reason why you do what he asks for.
“Fantastic! Let's start!” She claps her hands, the inside of the crystal ball swirls, pearlescent colors shining inside like water. “Oooh let's start off with you!” Nellie addresses you, you straighten up in your seat.
She roams her ringed hands around the ball. “I see that you're running from someone, M? I think?”
You look at Hobie in the corner of your eyes. He thickly swallows his crumpet. “Shoulders,” he says lowly. You move it up, annoyed.
“And for Mr. Hungry here,” she glances at Hobie. “Oh, I see the letter M too! You're more alike than I thought!”
Hobie stops eating, exchanging his crumpet for a cup of tea.
“Hmm, and a J? For…” she narrows her eyes, looking directly at the swirling colors. “The both of you, again. Huh?” Nellie chuckles, “that's— I've never seen that before, even from other couples.”
You swallow thickly, not bothering to correct her.
Taking your tea from the tray to calm your nerves.
She's dangerously accurate.
Her bright demeanor suddenly falls, her mismatched eyes empty and devoid of light. Her smile fades. “Something lurks in the water.” She says flatly.
“Alright, we should go.” Hobie stretches his back. “This is all bollocks, let's go–”
Nellie suddenly punches the table. Hobie sits back down, holding your wrists just in case he needs to run.
“I see the blazing sun and sand beneath your feet” She sharply turns towards you. “Don a white dress and you'll find what you're looking for.”
You take your wrist away from Hobie. “What do you mean?”
She ignores you, twisting suddenly towards Hobie. “I see blood and steel kissing your neck if you stay on the path. Answer her call and you'll be safe.”
Hobie looks at her with an unreadable face. Fists tightly closed. “Whose call?” She ignores him, blinking rapidly.
Nellie smiles back, the light in her eyes coming back. “Oh look at that! I see the same white dress and sun in yours!” She giddily says to a confused Hobie. “A beach wedding perhaps?” She giggles while you and Hobie are shaking in your seats.
Hobie has had enough, taking your wrist again, he stands up. “Thank you for the hospitality and for not screaming bloody murder but we have to go.”
“To plan the wedding?”
“No, to murder and pillage.” Hobie takes the ice from the floor. “Goodbye”
“Uh sorry about the roof!” You yell back. He tugs you outside.
“Wait, are you two pirates?” Nellie asks into the now empty room, scratching her head.
—
The sun is rising as you and Hobie sneak quietly out of town and into the secret dock where the revenge rests.
You can't help but exhale out your nerves once you reach the ship. Hobie's shoulders visibly relax, waving towards Gwen who's eyes widen when she sees you. Pavitr stands next to her, wiggling his eyebrows at you.
You shake your head rapidly, he gives you a thumbs up while Miles has the most disgusted look on his face.
Hobie turns around, “You comin’?”
You contemplate what happened today, your bones are aching and begging for sleep.
“I–I need to go.”
Hobie could only nod, walking away from you without looking back. “Lift the anchor” you hear him say from the ship.
The crew waves back at you, faces of different variety, some smiles, some could only look at you with sad eyes. Finn nods, a small smile on his lips. Gwen leaves, sparing you a glance. You think you hear Yuri yell ‘no, my wife!’ you chuckle to yourself in the empty dock.
You watch as the people's revenge sails further away, the anchor lifting back up slowly.
North. The word jumps back at you. They're heading north.
Without thinking, you run.
Your ankle screams for you to stop, but your grin says otherwise. You pray to every divine entity out there to help you reach the anchor in time and to not let you drown.
“Wait!” You yell. Everyone runs towards the edge of the ship, watching with wide eyes as you run the length of the wooden dock.
Pavitr cheers you on, yelling loudly. Everyone else follows his lead, hands rhythmically banging on wood, screams making you run faster.
Hobie beams from the ship. Tossing off his large coat and hat, he climbs to the side of the boat through its ropes, as close as he can get to you.
With an outstretched hand, he calls for you. “C’mon, trouble!”
With a running leap, your fingers graze his palms. You don't make it.
Hobie lets himself fall, holding your hand with both arms. The crew made themselves a rope to hold Hobie while he grips on to you tightly.
You laugh loudly, seeing the human chain, Gwen holds on to Hobie's waist, while Miles holds on to Gwen, Pav and the others begin to heave you all up to the boat.
With a jump, you reach up with your dangling arm to hold on tight to his shoulder.
Hobie beams down at you, “I hope you've read the book because these wankers might let us go for shits and giggles.”
“No I haven't,” you say above the wind, feet dangling several feet off the deep waters. “But I trust them. I know they've got me.”
The sun wakes up to loud cheering and smiles.
#between the devil and the sea chap 5#between the devil and the sea series#between the devil and the sea#hobie brown x reader#spider punk x reader#the kr8tor's creations#hobie brown#x reader#atsv fanfiction#atsv fanfic#atsv x reader#pirate hobie#pirate! hobie brown#pirate! hobie? pirate! hobie!#hobie brown x fem!reader#hobie brown x you#spider punk x fem!reader#spider punk x you#pirate! hobie brown x reader#cw food mention#cw injury#tw violence#fanfic#hobie fluff
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i’ll let you in {part two}
leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: the mission takes an unexpected turn, leaving you to make life & death decisions. but, the mission gone wrong turns out the be the least surpsing part of your week.
word count: 1.7k
content//warnings: somewhat graphic depictions of blood & injury. mention/use of knives. mention/use of guns. alcohol, kissing.
“it’s okay leon, just sit still, okay!” panic rises in your voice as you pull off leon’s shirt, revealing a broken blade wedged in his shoulder.
with all your strength you pull it out and instruct leon to hold the wound while you get bandages ready. little groans and sharp inhales fill the room as leon writhes in pain, blood seeping from between his fingers. you pour alcohol directly onto the wound, causing leon to flinch.
“jesus christ, that felt worse than the knife!” he groans.
“i know, i know, i’m sorry” you sit in leon’s lap to get a better look at the gaping puncture going through his shoulder.
“this dosen't look so good.”
“i’m okay, i promise” he assures.
you bandage him up, and stand up, throwing him his shirt back.
“we have to get out of here, we’re losing time” you exclaim.
leon puts his gear back on, springing back into action as if nothing ever happened. he grabs your hand, guiding you out of the maze-like structure.
rounding a corner you come face to face with a grotesque bio-monstrosity. with no hesitation, you take it out with a gunshot to the head and a knife to the neck.
you and leon are sprinting through the building, trying to get to the helicopter waiting for you on the other side.
“you have the vial right?” leon asks you, huffing and slightly out of breath.
“yes, i should,” you say patting down your pockets.
“holy shit, i don’t have it, what do i do!?” you scream, coming to a halt and attempting to turn back around.
you must have left it in that room when you were dealing with leon’s shoulder.
“what do you think you’re doing?” leon grabs your shoulder before you could take off.
“i’ll run back and get the vial!” you yell, pure panic taking over.
“no, you get to safety, i’ll grab it and meet you back at the helicopter.”
“no leon, i’ll do it. please, you’re wounded!” you desperately try to convince him.
leon’s deep, authoritative voice echoes throughout the hall when he says your name, “this is an order, get to the helicopter, now.”
“yes sir.”
you realize how wrong you were to defy him. he’s the captain of this mission, you must follow orders.
the clicking and gnarling sounds of bloodthirsty monsters are catching up to you and now leon has to turn back and face them, or else the entire mission is a failure.
your eyes meet with leon’s, “just stay alive, please.” you practically beg.
he lets out a half-hearted chuckle “i could say the same to you, now go.”
you both take off in opposite directions. luckily you make it to the roof of the building unscathed and see your way home awaiting you. wind and rain are smacking you in the face as you climb up the flailing ladder. you pull yourself up into the helicopter and ask the pilot to wait for leon.
it was a nail-biting two minutes, is he dead, is he alive? the storm was drawing in and you had to go, luckily you saw him. leon popped through the door with a swarm of mutants following closely behind as he makes a sprint for the helicopter.
thank fucking god.
he makes it up and falls into his seat, soaking wet and out of breath.
“leon, thank goodness are you okay!?” you frantically check his body to make sure he made it in one piece.
“i’m okay,” he smiles with a sigh “we made it and that’s all that matters.”
…
it’s been a couple of days since you’ve been back; you spent the first day in the infirmary where they ensured you were fit to go back to work. luckily you didn’t sustain any major injuries. so, you got sent back the following day.
you’ve since spent the day writing follow-up reports for the mission and finishing countless other half-completed reports on your desk. it has put you into a fog. to experience true life and death and immediately go back to the office is extremely jarring. but comes with the job title.
you hear a knock at your door, drawing your attention away from the never-ending stack of paperwork.
“come in!” you holler.
the door peaks open and you’re greeted by leon. clad in a dark navy suit. it looks expensive, quite literally fitting him perfectly.
“leon!” you burst out, just happy to see his face.
“hey, how are you?” he asks softly, closing the door behind him and taking a seat at one of the chairs facing your desk.
“well, it’s been hard to get my mind off the last couple of days, but i’m hanging in there...” you sigh, “and you?”
“my shoulder is fucked up, but nothing i can’t handle.” leon’s nose scrunches up as he's reminded of the pain.
you tilt your head and pout your lips, a non-verbal show of empathy.
leon clears his throat and sits up straighter in his chair. “well, in honor of that nightmare, i thought that you would wanna go out for a drink, maybe i take you out to a nicer bar this time?”
a date?
“uh-ya! i’d love that, actually!”
“how about tonight?”
“that works” you smile.
“great, i’ll see ya then.” leon leaves your office, silently closing the door behind him.
your mind is going a million miles a minute.
what am i going to wear? should i even dress up? is this even a date? am i overthinking things?
never mind that, now you have to get through the work day, anxiously waiting for tonight to come.
...
you run home after work, partially because you desperately wanted out of your work clothes and mostly because you wanted to impress him.
you wanted to look good for once, after all, he’s only ever seen you in your work clothes.
you throw on a cute little black dress with a low scooped neck line and dainty lace along the edges, black thigh-high tights, and mary jane heels. the whole ensemble was topped with a trench coat. you looked nice, but not overdone.
you make it to the bar of leon’s choosing, and it was certainly a lot nicer than expected. it was classy, with a 1920’s speak-easy theme. most of the drinks were whiskey or bourbon-based.
leon already had a spot at the bar with two drinks ordered.
he watches you as you approach him, a little smirk adorning his rosy lips.
“don’t you look cute” he compliments, pulling out a chair for you to sit.
cute.
you visibly blush and hold back a cheesy smile, desperately trying to contain your elation.
once seated you admire your drink, it has little edible flowers and an orange twist garnishing the glass.
“what is this?” you ask.
“it was on the specialty menu, it looked pretty so i ordered it for you.”
“and what did you get for yourself?”
“whiskey, neat. as always”
“that’s definitely what i’d assumed you to drink” you laugh.
“hm i guess i’m so predictable”
“honestly, not really”
“hm? oh really” he raises an eyebrow.
“your drink of choice maybe, but you’ve managed to be one of the most unpredictable people i’ve met.”
“is that a compliment?” he smirks.
“yes, i’d say it is” your tone is flirty and sweet.
“how come?” he asks.
“well, i’d say you’re hard to read, for a while, i thought you were drawn back and aloof. but getting to know you, you’re anything but. your quietness is deceiving”
“hm yeah, i guess i can see what you mean.”
you take a sip of your drink and it’s delicious. it’s strong with a spicy warmth of the whiskey heating your throat as it goes down but balanced by notes of light floral sweetness.
“you like it?” leon asks, watching you sip on your pretty little drink.
“hmmhmm” you smile.
leon looks you in the eye and then down at his hands.
he seemed… cautious.
“there’s a reason i brought you here... i wanted to apologize for what happened out there, shit went wrong and it shouldn’t have.”
does he feel actually feel guilty? it was unreasonable considering you felt responsible for constantly putting him in rocky situations. you’re tremendously less experienced in the field, and it showed.
“no, that’s not true” you furrow your eyebrows. “don’t blame yourself for my fuck-ups, you out of all people don’t deserve that.”
“as a leader, i’m always responsible, y/n.”
“responsible or not, you do not owe me an apology. i won’t accept it. you’re the one that got stabbed in the shoulder for christ sake!”
you forget you’re in a crowded bar, and draw the attention of a few heads with that last statement.
“well, at least let me show my appreciation, you made the most of a shitty situation, and i thank you for it.”
“okay, i’ll allow it; and thank you, captain.” you said with a smirk.
and there it was, that side of him you always saw, even from afar. a tormented soul trying to make right in a wrong world, even if wasn’t his fault.
as the night progressed you two talked for hours. starting light, with the topic of work until the conversation divulged into something much more personal. you found yourself spilling all your inner workings to him. why was he so easy to talk to?
“it’s getting late” leon confesses. your heavy eyelids telling him all he needed to know. “fuck, you’re right.” you agree.
“did you drive?” leon asked.
“no i walked, i only live a few blocks away.”
“can i walk you home?”
“yes, please,” you said with a sigh of relief. you really did not want to make the cold and dark walk home alone.
the walk was quiet, but not awkward. only a few sentences of small talk here and there.
finally arriving at your apartment, you figure this is your only chance to make a move.
before arriving at the lobby door you turn to leon, eyes full of lust and stomach twisting with fear.
fuck, just do it.
you move towards him eagerly in an attempt to go in for a kiss. but leon’s lips meet yours sooner.
he went in first.
you’re shocked. he places his hand delicately on your cheek deepening the embrace and leaving you with no chance to think.
his lips leave yours and his thumb strokes your lip. his sultry eyes gaze into yours like pools of ocean reeling you in.
your voice is low, almost in a whisper. “why don’t you come in?”
part three
⭐️tags
@cantchoosejust1 @it-is-tea-time
#academy fics✨#thank you for reading#leon kennedy x reader#pookie#leon s kennedy x reader#leon x reader#reader x leon#leon kennedy smut#resident evil fanfiction#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy fluff#re4make#resident evil
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How to Beat Itemless Boss Rush in OMORI
a complete guide because something’s wrong with me
what I had equipped:
OMORI:
weapon: red knife • charm: cough mask • skills: vertigo, cripple, red hands, suffocate
AUBREY:
weapon: baseball bat • charm: pretty bow • skills: beatdown, wind-up throw, power hit, counter
KEL:
weapon: basketball • charm: headband • skills: megaphone (didn’t use outside of sir maximus i-iii), tickle, run ‘n gun, juice me (completely needed)
HERO:
weapon: ol’ reliable • charm: chef’s hat • skills: cook, tenderize, snack time, homemade jam
PREREQUISITES: I’d recommend finishing regular boss rush at least once. if you’re on switch this can be rough cuz you need to clear it with basil after your first clear. I can make a guide abt that upon request
PRIORITIES:
kel’s juice. Keep this to at least 100 at ALL TIMES if possible. If it goes too low, below 10, you’re doomed
hero’s HP. If he dies, you can’t heal at all until the next boss.
omori’s HP. this seems obvious but try to keep it at 2+, preserve your “omori did not succumb” in the fights like sweetheart, slime girls, humphrey, and jawsum.
1) ye old sprout
the first fight is ye old sprout. this can be completed in one turn, via:
omori: red hands
aubrey: beatdown
kel: tickle
hero: tenderize
If this doesn’t work, which it SHOULD, just use run ‘n gun to get through the rest.
2) download window
this should only take 2-3 turns :3
1) same routine as step 1. Repeat till it’s gone. The thing about itemless is GETTING THROUGH the boss, not prepping for next round.
3) capt spaceboy
The length of this fight depends. I suggest starting out with the previous routines of red hands, beatdown, tickle, and tenderize until omori’s juice is down to <175. if anyone’s HP drops to 3/4, wait till at least 1-2 others are hurt to use snack time
4) king crawler
initially, focus on getting a lot of hits in if you have good juice/heart. if you don’t, try to heal as much as you can. a good strategy for if you’re trying to make sure hero and kel don’t die yet because everyone’s low on juice is to have aubrey use counter. if you can, make hero cook for aubrey when she’s at half health or so.
target king crawler only!!! sprout moles don’t matter, 600 health added to it is nothing. don’t even worry
5) sir Maximus I/II/III
this fight is surprisingly easy. For this, you wanna focus emotions!!!! Make everyone on your team angry via megaphone, let the enemies wallow cuz they make themselves sad. if you get everyone on max emotions on both sides, you do significant damage and they can barely do any. take advantage of omori’s attacks that damage everyone, lowering stats is always very helpful.
try to maintain emotions as much as you can, while making sure kel doesn’t run out of juice and neither does hero. heal as needed, this fight is self explanatory for the most part.
6) life jam guy
A magical blessing of free time to heal. take the life jam, but you can’t use it because you’re on itemless. Again, heal as needed. nothing to say here
7) sweetheart
for many, this may be who wipes you out. but trust me, as long as you upkeep everything, you’re fine. FOCUS. ON. LOWERING. HER. STATS. Please. itll save you, especially since the only moves we have for emotion are for making you angry, which we DONT want. lower her speed, attack, and defense.
this marks the start of where you hafta be conscious of everyone’s stats/health/juice. pay close attention!!! Again, use Aubrey to take the punches via counter.
8) jawsum
70% chance of surviving this, tbh. I won’t lie, this is genuinely difficult. Kinda complicated, so LISTEN CLOSELY!!
1) omori use any attack, Aubrey use wind up throw, kel use tickle, hero use tenderize
2) hopefully, there’s one gator guy left. if not, repeat and heal as needed.
3) when there’s ONE gator left, do: red hands, beatdown, tickle, and tenderize. our goal here is to eliminate the gator guy, as he’s a shield for jawsum. jawsum is our target. So, we want to be able to eliminate the gator guy before our last ATTACKER— likely being hero with tenderize.
4) do step 3 repeatedly, healing as needed, hopefully it works out!!
9) pluto
Pluto is shockingly easy, don’t even worry
1) omori should use all his defense reducing stuff. make Aubrey use power hit, as it also lowers defense. run n’ gun with kel. tenderize with hero.
2) honestly just yeah worry about lowering stats and getting hits in. sometimes Pluto hits kinda strongly, but he shouldn’t if you lower his stats.
3) HEAL. HEAL PLEASE. HEALTH AND JUICE. DO IT. PLEASE. HEAL. MAINTAIN BOTH HEALTH AND JUICE TO AT LEAST 200 IF YOU CAN. this is in preparation for the next fight, one of the few times we NEED to worry about what’s next.
4) that should work— relatively easy afaik :3
10) slime girls
brace yourself— this is by far the most difficult. you may make it out, but don’t feel bad if you can’t!!
1) vertigo, beatdown, tickle, tenderize
2) Vertigo again, do it until you can’t lower attack more. But in the meantime, maintain juice with kel (JUICE IS A PRIORITY DUE TO THE MOVE WHERE THE SLIME GIRLS SWITCH HEALTH AND JUICE). Aubrey can do whatever, tbh, just do beatdown. Hero should prioritize healing.
3) HEAL AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE WHEN THEY START TO THROW EVERYTHING THEY CAN!!!! The next fight is easy, as long as omori lives by the end of the round, it’s good enough.
4) Pray
11) Humphrey
Humphrey isn’t too bad, surprisingly. use stat reducing moves, then big hits with tickle as well (meaning: do red hands, tickle, beatdown, then tenderize). There’s a good chance you’re low in health, which is understandable.
In humphreys stomach, do heavy hits, stat reducing moves, and every turn use snack time. kel can do whatever, as long as he maintains everyone’s juice. Listen, if you managed to successfully lower their defense and attack, they should do very very little damage to your team— I’m talking like… 0-20 damage each.
please tell me if this works for you, and ask me literally anything. if this ends up not working, PLEASE let me know where you died!!!!! thx for reading, I was supposed to write this a couple months ago
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tell me a story about the halfling cavalier ruby and her dire corgie mount zwie!
"OH GOD, SHE'S BACK!"
"BAIL! BAIL!"
"I'M TOO YOUNG TO DIE!"
"Onward, Noble Zwei!" Ruby Rose charged headlong towards her foes. Crescent Rose, her trusty gun-lance, spear-headed a Beowolf through the back as Dire Corgi, the twice her size Zwei, bound forward with eager joy in his black, doll-like eyes. He bellowed a mighty yip as Ruby swung round in her saddle to fire at one of the fleeing Grimm.
An entire orphanage ran out to pet the massive dog and to cheer for their hero! Ruby Rose! Ruby Rose! Ruby Rose!
================================================
"RUBY ROSE!"
"AAAGH!" Ruby fell from her stool, her tiny behind hitting the dirty countertop of the bar. Her half-elf partner scowled down at her, though she was also standing on the stool as well. "Weiss, I was almost at the best part!"
"Ruby, there was no orphanage in that town," Weiss explained, "and if there was, it was long empty when the Grimm attacked."
"But it's true, though! I really did stab a Grimm with Crescent Rose!"
"Yes, but you didn't lift it so high in the air that the people of the village made it their new flag!"
"HEY!" Nora, their dwarven friend, slapped her callous hand on the counter. "I thought it was a nice story, so I say let her finish it!"
All the while, Zwei lapped up from the trough, receiving pets and "good boy" by the dozen as patron entered and left the bar. But this was not to last as there was a foul odor on the wind. With a mighty bark, Ruby was outside, quick as a flash.
"What is it, boy?" He barked in a direction, where Ruby could see the unmistakable signs of trouble approaching. Bandits, and a whole lot of them. She gave a whistle, and the rest of the team assembled outside.
"What's the plan, Ruby?" Weiss asked, readying her rapier.
"Same plan as always, Weiss." She untethered Zwei from her pony-sized corgi and sat upon his saddle with a grin. "I mark 'em, we hit 'em."
#rwby#dnd#dungeons and dragons#ruby rose#zwei#fighter ruby#cavalier ruby#halfling ruby#rwby au#weiss schnee#nora valkyrie
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A celebration was planned for Mouch for surviving yet another close encounter at the hospital. Actually, Trudy insisted since it was a much closer call than she would’ve liked to have been. She pulled Sylvie into helping her plan it, and of course, Sylvie was very, very happy to help. She loved Mouch and would do anything for him, especially after he helped her with Paramedicine, so she didn’t hesitate to say ‘yes’.
They managed to put something together within a week, and on the day of, Sylvie arrived a couple hours before Molly’s opened to help set up everything on the outside patio. After everything passed Trudy’s approval, she headed home to change into something nicer. She originally thought that she could throw on a white undershirt, a plaid long sleeve, a pair of jeans, and brown suede stacked heel boots, but as she was setting up everything, she realized the weather was becoming much colder than she anticipated. So, instead of the plaid long sleeve, she went with a large beige sweater.
Something that she loved was the little game she and Matt were playing with their Firehouse family.
After she said ‘yes’ to Matt’s proposal, they heard about Mouch’s complication in the hospital, so they never found the appropriate time to tell everyone before he left for Portland. It wasn’t a secret and they didn’t want it to be, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have fun with it.
Every time Sylvie went to Molly’s, she’d wear something that would help make her hands somewhat inconspicuous which was where the colder Chicago weather and her extensive long-sleeved wardrobe came in.
She didn’t want to take away of the attention away from Mouch, so she unraveled the sleeves of her sweater to cover the engagement ring up. She also wore a small, thin gold rectangular pendant around the tall neck of her sweater. They’ve seen her in the same outfit before, so she was sure no one would notice the large diamond on her left ring finger.
She spent most of the night conversing with all of her friends and family and sure enough, no one noticed the ring. Everyone was too busy celebrating Mouch to even think about looking in that direction.
After some cake, half a glass of Rosé, and a very animated conversation from Mouch on how he landed in the hospital in the first place (explosions, gun fire sounds, the whole bit), the night started to wind down.
Most of the crowd left, leaving Sylvie, Trudy, and their Firehouse 51 family (minus Stella and Severide). No one wanted the night to end, so they all pushed together some tables and ordered another round of drinks.
“I’m really glad you’re okay, Mouch,” Sylvie said with a warm smile. “I don’t know where I’d be without you.”
Mouch blushed a little. “Oh, please. I’m sure you’d be in the same place you are now.”
Sylvie chuckled and shook her head. “I don’t think so. You’ve played a big part in all of our lives. I’m really happy to know you.”
Mouch’s cheeks crimsoned. “Thank you, Sylvie.” He looked around the table and saw his Firehouse family beaming at him. “Thank you, everyone. This has been quite a night and one I’ll never forget.” He wrapped his arm around Trudy that was sitting next to him.
Trudy playfully elbowed him. “Enjoy it because it’s not happening again. I don’t know if I could ever take it happening again.”
Mouch chuckled. “Duly noted.”
Herrmann’s eyes started to narrow. The more he thought about what ever he was thinking about, the more confused he looked.
Ritter furrowed his brows. “You okay, Herrmann?” Everyone turned to the man in question.
Herrmann hummed thoughtfully and began with a wince. “Okay, now, you all know I’m not a very superstitious person.” There some mumbles under a few people’s breaths and some started to laugh a bit. “Most of the time,” he corrected himself. “I’m not superstitious most of the time. Well, after what happened to Mouch, I started going to that palm reader.”
Mouch’s mouth gapped. “What?” he gasped. “Really? Herrmann, I’m telling you - her reading was just a coincidence.”
Herrmann dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “Says the guy that felt a great deal of pain which made me feel a great deal of pain. Listen, I’ve been going to her lately and so far, every one of her readings has actually happened.”
Sylvie furrowed her brows and looked intrigued. “Really? Like what?”
Everyone listened intently as Herrmann continued.
“Well, she said I would experience some discomfort soon, and sure enough, I felt some backpain after I helped Cindy with some yardwork.” Herrmann looked over at his wife and saw her shake her head.
Cindy filled in the blanks, “I insisted that he not, multiple times might I add, but he did it anyways.”
Herrmann’s eyes lit up as he snapped his fingers and continued, “And then she said someone I was really close to would find great joy - and a day later, Lee Henry came home and said he found three hundred bucks on the ground!”
Everyone began to laugh or groan because they thought it was all a coincidence.
“So, I went back to her today and she said I’d be celebrating something very big in the near future. I thought she was talking about tonight but she said it wasn’t happening tonight, which is confusing to me, because… what other big thing are we celebrating?” He turned to his wife and reiterated, “Our anniversary already passed and so did your Birthday.” He hummed in thought. “Maybe the kids’ Birthdays?”
Cindy shook her head and patted her husband on the back. “Don’t think about it too hard, Honey.”
“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” Herrmann asked, slightly offended.
Cindy shot him a look and deadpanned, “Seventy-five bucks a session, Christopher. Seventy-five bucks.”
Herrmann threw his hands up in disbelief and everyone began to laugh.
While Ritter and Gallo chimed in on the topic of the palm reader, one of the bartenders came out with the round of drinks they ordered earlier. Five opened beers were being balanced on a round tray. He set them down, one after another, but the last one had too much condensation and unfortunately slipped from his fingers an inch away from being placed on the table. It knocked against the wood and began to tip over but with Sylvie’s quick thinking, she reached out and grabbed the bottle.
“So sorry about that,” the bartender apologized with a grimace.
“No worries,” Sylvie replied and passed Ritter his beer.
Violet’s eyes widened - practically bulging out of her skull. “Did I drink too much or do I see an engagement ring on your finger.”
Everyone’s heads turned at the words ‘engagement’ and ‘ring’. And, collectively, their eyes went from Violet, to her gaze, and then to what it was pointed at, which was Sylvie’s left hand.
Sylvie didn’t realize she caught the bottle with her left hand as her right hand was too busy nursing the last of her Rosé. And the quick motion must’ve made her sleeve slide all the way up to reveal her entire hand.
Herrmann gasped and snapped his fingers. He pointed at the diamond on Sylvie’s left ring finger. “See! The palm reader was right! A big celebration in the near future!”
“Holy shit, that is massive!” Violet exclaimed as she gently pulled Sylvie’s hand into her own to take a closer look at the ring. “This must’ve cost a hefty price.”
Trudy looked perplexed as she asked, “I thought you broke up with that guy. What’s his face. I forget his name. He wasn’t that significant for me to remember.”
Cindy remembered. “Dylan.”
Violet furrowed her brows at the mention. “You and Dylan broke up, and then he proposed to you? I thought you said it wasn’t meant to be?”
Sylvie opened her mouth but she wasn’t sure where she should start. The cat was practically jumping out of the bag and into an open card board box at that point so there was no use trying to cover it up any longer.
The mention of ‘meant to be’ made her cheeks crimson. “Sylvie Brett. We were meant to be”. She broke into the widest and happiest grin but no words came out. There was a sparkle in her eye as she bashfully played with the band of the ring. And just like that, both Trudy and Cindy instantly knew.
“Oh my god,” Trudy said with a big open smile.
“Oh!” Cindy laughed and clasped her hands together with glee. She looked so happy to see Sylvie happy, especially all that she had been through in the last couple of years since Matt left. “You have to tell us how it happened!”
Herrmann, Mouch, Ritter, and Gallo gave each other incredibly confused looks.
“Uh, I think I’m missing something,” Gallo said.
Herrmann replied, “Yeah, same. Maybe my ears are broken but I’m pretty sure she didn’t say who it was.”
Violet’s eyes widened once again. “Oh my god!” she suddenly exclaimed. “The day that Herrmann told us about Mouch! You came to the hospital with Casey and when I asked, you told me he came to your place to say good-bye.”
Ritter and Gallo both grinned with open mouths at the realization.
“Really?” Gallo asked. “He proposed?”
Herrmann didn’t realize it until Gallo said something. “Holy moley! Casey proposed to you?”
Mouch turned to Sylvie and enveloped her in a half-hug. “Congratulations - you two deserve to be happy.”
Trudy looked behind her to see if she could flag down the bartender again. “We are getting you another Rosé and you are going to tell us every detail.”
Sylvie didn’t get a word in but what could she say? She was so incredibly happy. Her life felt like it was finally falling into place: she and Matt were going to get married and in a few days, she was going to be the mother of a blue-eyed blonde baby girl, and a few weeks after that, Matt was moving back to Chicago. She didn’t think her life could get any more perfect.
It was worth the wait - all of it.
It was all meant to be.
#brettsey#matt casey#sylvie brett#fanfiction#meant to be#damn i was really into this one#they were meant to be#im still dead btw
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Titan Modern AU- Chapter Two
Summary: Meredith takes guard duty as seriously as she does everything else in this job. While giving a warning to an ill-informed youth, Meredith witnesses the shooting of a Torejar police officer. Her Field Medic training kicks in and she rushes over to assist.
Words: 1,712
Tags: @druidx, @sparrow-orion-writes @warriorbookworm, @thesorcerersapprentice, @blind-the-winds, @philosophika, @the-down-upside-finch, @hippiewrites
Warnings: shooting, blood, guns, violence, gunshot wounds, If I've missed anything please let me know.
Notes: This was a much tougher chapter to write than expected. There's a lot going on, but I've tried to keep everything as consistent as I possibly can. Also, yes, Meredith is using military time, as she rightly would.
Meredith steadfastly ignored the children that were doing everything in their power to try and make her move or speak,
“C’mon Larry, we’re gonna get in trouble.” one of them, a young pre-teen with blonde hair said, just as his companion took another step towards the woman. The taller of the two snorted disdainfully,
“Quit being such a wuss. It’s not like they can actually do anything!” he retorted. Meredith kept her eyes straight ahead, but was making a note of just how close the teenager was getting to her out of the corner of her eye. The teen stepped forward another two paces until he was standing directly next to Meredith, who still didn’t move. At least not until the kid reached out to try and grab her Shanter off her head. She quickly reached out, grabbed his wrist then quickly pushed him against the wall, twisting his hand behind his back,
“Bad move, kid. Lookin’ is fine, touching is a nono.” she stated. She glanced back to see what the blonde-haired kid was doing. He was standing rooted to the spot, face drained of colour. Meredith nodded to him then returned her attention to the teenager that was now struggling against her grip,
“Oi, geroff!” he complained, “So I reached out to touch you, that ain’t illegal!” he protested. Meredith shook her head,
“Actually, son, I think ye’ll find that it is.” she retorted, “Under Fangthane law, it’s illegal to harass an officer of the Stronghold Guardian Corps while they are on duty. Touching any part of the uniform counts, as does blocking their line of sight. I was just bein’ nice earlier.” she told him. The teenager snorted,
“Yeah, well we ain’t in Fangthane are we? This is Toreguarde and this is assault!” he cried. Meredith snorted,
“The Consulate counts as bein’ on Fangthane soil, pal. Now, I’ve every right to read you your rights and arrest you, but I’m feeling generous. I’m happy to let ye go with a warning, provided you don’t do it again.”
Meredith didn’t get to hear the youth’s reply as a lanky Fangthanian man wearing a rumpled suit rushed past, quickly followed by two Torejar people wearing what seemed to be leather duster jackets atop dark blue uniforms. Probably members of the Toreguarde police force then. The Fangthanian pulled out a gun just as he was about to round a corner, aiming for the woman. Right as he pulled the trigger, the tall, lanky man shoved his partner to the side. Two shots rang out, causing every civvy in the area to scream and run for cover. The man took both shots, one in his shoulder, the other in his leg, and fell to the floor.
Meredith immediately let go of the youth she had been warning and ran over to the prone officer, right as the other woman picked herself up. A crowd immediately began to form around the group as Meredith pulled the male officer’s coat open to have a look at his shoulder, then glanced down at his leg. Both were bleeding far more than she would have liked. She sucked in a breath through her teeth and looked up at the people milling around her. She pointed to one of them,
“You, call an ambulance!” she snapped, then pointed to another, “You, go in the front door of the Consulate. There’s a first aid kit on the wall on your immediate left. Grab it and bring it back here!” When neither person moved, Meredith growled, “Move it!” she snarled, already moving to place as much pressure on at least one of wounds the man had sustained as possible.
The two unwitting volunteers nodded, one pulling out a mobile phone, the other dashing off towards the Consulate. Meredith grimaced, realising she didn’t have enough hands to stop the man on the floor in front of her from bleeding out since she couldn’t reach his leg from her current position. She looked up again, noticing that the female officer was hovering uncertainly nearby, her face pale and hand hovering over the holster of her pistol,
“Oi! I need another pair of hands here! You want this man to bleed out or not?” Meredith snapped irritably.
The dark-skinned woman quickly shoon her head, as though coming out of a daze. She quickly knelt down next to her partner,
“Farren!” she yelped. She looked up at the other woman, “What do you need me to do?” she asked. Meredith gestured to the gunshot wound on the man’s leg,
“Put as much pressure on that as you can manage. With any luck I’ll be getting a hold of that damn first aid kit pretty soon, but I reckon that leg’s gonna need a tourniquet.” she replied. The officer nodded and placed her hands on her fellow officer’s leg. She winced at his hiss,
“Sorry, Farren.” she apologised. She looked over to the woman that was helping them, green eyes meeting blue,
“Thanks, I don’t know what I’d be doing if you weren’t on hand.” she said. Meredith shook her head, concentrating on the task at hand,
“Ye can thank me after we’ve got your pal here stabilised.” she replied. She looked up at the man with the mobile phone she’d directed to call for an ambulance, “How long?” she called. The businessman nodded, looked over to Meredith and placed his hand over the speaker,
“They’ll be here in two minutes.” he called back, quickly returning to the call. The woman that Meredith had told to get the first aid kit pushed through the crowd and handed the box to the Fangthanian woman,
“Here, is he going to be alright?” she asked. Meredith glanced up at her taking the box with one hand and opening it with practised ease,
“Hopefully.” she muttered. She pulled out a pack of gauze and a roll of bandages and quickly began patching the officer’s shoulder up. It wasn’t her best work, but it would have to do. She looked up at the crowd of people again, glancing briefly at the leg, which was still bleeding profusely through his partner’s hands,
“Anyone got a belt they can live withoot?” she called, her accent slipping with her rising anxiety as she felt the man’s breath begin to falter. Another businessman stepped forward, quickly unbuckling and unthreading the belt at his waist,
“I need a new one anyway.” he said, handing the item over. Meredith nodded, taking it. She shifted a little,
“Reckon you can keep some pressure on that shoulder for me while I try to tie this leg off?” she asked. The man nodded and quickly placed his hands on the bandage as Meredith took her hands away. Satisfied that the shoulder was taken care of Meredith shuffled next to the female officer,
“‘Scuse me.” she murmured, trying not to shove the other woman away too much as she manoeuvered into a position that would allow her to tie the belt around her patient’s thigh. The Torejar officer stared at Meredith as she worked. She opened her mouth to say something, but the sound of approaching sirens caused her to look in the direction they were coming from instead.
The paramedics were quick to take stock of the situation and thanked Meredith for her quick thinking and resourcefulness as they loaded the male officer onto a stretcher. Meredith groaned and dusted off her hands as she pulled herself up again. She looked over to the female officer, who was hovering nearby. She was pale and sweaty and half in shock, Meredith noticed.
“You gonna be alright?” she asked. The Torejar woman nodded, wiping her bloodied hands on the towel one of the paramedics had handed her,
“I will be.” she said. She looked up at Meredith and held out a hand, “Thank you. You’ve saved the life of a good detective.” Meredith shrugged and shook the offered hand,
“I was only doing my duty.” she replied, “Part and parcel of being part of the SGC, Miss..” she trailed off, eyeing the officer expectantly. The Torejar woman coughed im embarassment,
“Oh, yes, sorry. There wasn’t time for introductions earlier. Detective Elowyn O’Toreguarde, Toreguarge Investigative Branch.” she replied, “The man whose life you just saved is Detective Farren Breakwood, my partner.”
Meredith nodded and snapped off a quick salute,
“Constable Meredith Gruksdottir, Clan Ironforge, of the Fangthane Stronghold Guardian Corps.” she replied. She smirked a little at the slightly confused look that Detective O’Toreguarde was giving her.
“Gruks… dottir?” the detective murmured. The Torejar quickly shook her head and smiled, “Well, it was a pleasure to meet you Constable, but I’d best go with my partner and make sure he’s not going to do something stupid when he wakes up. I’ll probably be by in a day or two to get a witness statement, if that’s alright?” she asked. Meredith nodded,
“Of course, Detective. I’m typically on guard duty between the hours of 09:00 and 17:30, with a lunch break from 13:00 to 14:00 hours.” she replied, “You’d be best getting the statement either during my lunch hour or after I clock off for the evening, as I’m not permitted to speak unless necessary during guard duty.”
Elowyn quirked an eyebrow at the reply and nodded again, scribbling a note into her pocketbook,
“Duly noted.” she muttered, “Well, I guess I’ll let you get back to it then.” she said, quickly bowing her head slightly before dashing off into the back of the ambulance just before the doors were slammed shut and it drove off to the nearest hospital.
Meredith shrugged, looked back to the front entrance of the Consulate and sighed, noticing that the two boys from earlier were long gone. Well, as long as the older one heeded the warning Meredith had been giving him, then there wasn’t anything else for it but to get back to work. She tilted her wrist, checked the time and marched back to her position. She still had another two hours before she could clock off, and it wasn’t like there was anyone else to take over. Maybe she could get away with handwriting a report summary until she could get to a computer to type up a full one?
#aquadestinyswriting#titan fighting fantasy au#modern au#violence tw#shooting tw#blood tw#gunshot wounds tw#guns tw#meredith gruksdottir#elowyn o'toreguarde#farren breakwood
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Stolen by the monster part 5
hello my darlings!!! i have brought part 5 to you, after i procced to rip my hair out trying to get my brain to work with me.
Warning: violence, revenge 😈😈
word count: 1.2K
Note: i did update it a little, my firdt round of edits was horrible!!
as a reminder, i do not give permission to use my stories or work without asking. if you do ill haunt you for the rest of your days...
August pov
It was a calculated risk but one that had to be taken. I was needed in Paris and I'll be damned if I let you out of my sight. So off to Paris we went, did I feel Ethan hunt closing in as I loaded you onto that cargo plane. No if I had, I would have better protected you and our little one.
I’m watching you sit on the patio, book open on the table, a hand on the soft swell of your belly. I finally managed to put a baby in you, twins in fact, I'm pretty sure that you were going to kill me when you found out. The following morning on the estate was quiet, too quiet for my liking. I did a sweep after I spotted you walking the grounds, but I saw none of my men, where the hell were they? I didn't like this not one bit, I made a dash for my gun when your scream ripped through the cool morning air. '`No '' I seethed, hitting the red alarm button on the wall locking down the estate, “Sir ambush on the northern side” one of my men barked as I slid the earpiece in and made a beeline straight for you. “ Its Ethan Hunt sir and hes got the girl” the fuck he did, no man will touch her and live to tell the take not even her own father.
“Stop him by any means necessary, but do not harm her, I'm on my way” I heard multiple yes sirs back but I disregarded them all as I ran down the terrace stairs and towards the northern side of the property. The sounds of footsteps followed behind me, my men catching up. I skidded to a stop just off the beaten path and hid in the bushes waiting and watching. You were there, completely unharmed but not alone. My dark cable knit sweater hung low on your shoulders but still managed to come down to mid thigh on you.
Your hair hanging down your back in waves, clutching something to your chest as you stepped back from the man approaching you “Come with me sweetling” it was Luther, you'd know his voice anywhere “We are here to take you home” you stepped back closer to me, “Take me home? What makes you think I want to go home?” you stood your ground, with a stubbornness that i knew all too well “Come just grab her '' chidded a distressed british accent, Benji. Should have guessed Hunt wouldnt come without them.
Luther turned back and shot him a glare “No Benji we don't want to frighten her more” turning back to face you petal he held out his hand “Come on let's get you home to your mom” with your slightly turned posture, i could see your lip quivering with emotion. “Don't do it Petal” I whispered to the wind, “I’ll always find you.” Dropping the book from your chest to just the front of your stomach, the man in question appeared. “Sweetie, come on i'm taking you home” and the anger towards that man that was buried is ragging beneath the surface, turning more so i could see more of you, your bump successfully hidden by my sweater clenching one hand around the book and the other into a fist and your knuckles were white “Look who had the nerve to show up. The man who saved the world time and time again but couldn't bother to pick up the damn phone and call your own daughter, you knew i existed!! You seethed, you skin flushing from the heat
“Boss' ' my soldier nudged to my right, I pinned him with a death glare." What "I spat, still watching you from the corner of my eye. The guy swallowed “The cars are here and in position” I nodded and looked back at you and damn, the fury and anger covering your face and body language, it made me hard. I watched as you pointed a finger right at Hunt and then stomped your foot like a petulant child, fuck it was so hard to focus on the task at hand when all i wanted was to bend you over and spank you for being a brat, i dont give a damn who sees.
You swing an arm out gesturing back to the house and you caught a glimpse of one of my men with a smirk, you knew I was there. I small smile graced your lips as you turned back to you “father”
“Listen, it's not that I didn't want to..” Ethan began but was shortly cut off by a sharp slap across his face by you. My god you really did hate this man.. “You do not get to sit here and lecture me about safety and protocols, you kept tabs on mom for years.” he stood there just watching, Benji and Luther looked like fish out of water, mouths open and everything.
In the short time that I've actually had you, you are not who I thought you were. I thought you were a princess being raised by your mom alone, always on the move, but you were, you're an orphan who had no one, like me. Till I found my home and now your home is with me. you were my pretty little burden, but no longer you are something more, much more.
Focusing my attention back on you, my little one, you had moved closer to us, you had your hand behind your back, counting down from 5. That was your signal telling me when to move. “Please don't, I can explain, but I am begging you, do not go back to that man, he isn't who he says he is. I watched your fingers slowly drop from 5, to 4, 3,2,1 but i wanted to give you this moment
“No Ethan Hunt you are not the man you say you are. August Walker is more of a man than you’ll ever be.. I cannot wait for him to bring this world down around you and watch how you fall” with that final statement, i leapt from my hiding spot and snatched you by your waist , passing you back to my men “Go little one, i'll be behind you shortly” you nodded and took off with my men. “Hunt” I said turning to face him “I’m her guardian angel Hunt, you had your chance, she is mine now, know when you are beat” i backed away slowly and darted out after her.
you were getting in the car as Hunt broke through the woods. Jumping in the driver's seat, we took off, gravel and dirty flying as we went. I looked in the back to see the fear in your eyes, as you looked back at your father chasing us. “Hold on” I said through gritted teeth taking a turn around a sharp turn. The vehicle was on two wheels when we were crashed into by another car, sending us flipping and rolling over. I braced myself with my hands on the ceiling desperately looking back at you buckled in and supporting your belly. The last thing I recalled before the world turned black.
#henry cavill#henry cavill imagine#august walker imagines#august walker#august walker fanfiction#august walker fanfic#henry cavill characters#henry cavill x you
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Thing of Beauty
Ruby gaped as she put eyes upon one of the most beautiful super shotguns she’d ever seen in her entire life. It was called Morning Glory, and it was given to her as part of payment from one her teams outings after they helped defend a merchants convoy moving through several settlements. Unfortunately, as much as Ruby loved him Morning Glory didn’t fit her or any of her teams style at all. But it would be such a shame to waste such a beautiful weapon, if only there was someone who would make better use of it.
And that’s when hit her. It should have been obvious, who else needed it more than her fellow leader and sorely lacking in a firearm Jaune! It might be a little cumbersome, but Jaune was adaptable and Ruby was sure that he would be able to work it into his fighting style. Yes, it was a beautiful gun for a handsome man- uh, she meant a great gun for her friend! Yep, totally just a friend! Nothing more!
...She couldn’t wait for Jaune to try Morning Glory out, and today was the perfect day for it! It was warm without being too hot, clear blue sky, and she would be shooting guns! With her cru- best friend!
Ruby: Biting her lip “...the only thing that would make this better would be...”
Jaune and Ruby were outside Beacon on Ruby’s custom range. Jaune was standing near a table that was littered with firearms and dust rounds with Morning Glory firmly on his left shoulder in the unhinged position and a bandolier of shells wrapped around his right.
Oh, and he was completely shirtless. Something that confused him greatly, but that Ruby had been very insistent about.
Jaune: "Ruby, while I'm more than happy to shoot guns with you, is there a reason I'm doing this shirtless?"
Jaune’s question was met by a look of complete determination on Ruby’s face.
Ruby: "ABSOLUTELY JAUNE! I need to see you shoot shirtless for uh... weapon related reasons!"
Jaune’s confusion quickly turned to suspicion as he shot her with a narrowed eye look.
Jaune: "...Weapon related reasons?"
Ruby: "Uh-huh! See Jaune, Morning Glory is a custom made piece and it’s way stronger than your average super Shotgun! I need you to shoot shirtless to, uh, see how it will affect any other possible custom weapon I might have to test out later!"
Jaune found that statement to be... rather contradictory, because he had tested out nearly ever other one of Ruby’s custom pieces while fully clothed. He felt compelled to question Ruby’s logic, but seeing the dead serious look on her face made Jaune decide to drop the matter... for now. Instead, Jaune internally shrugged it off before grabbing Morning glory and placing two shell into it’s barrels and closing it off with a satisfying “click.”
Jaune: "Alright, whatever you say Rubes. You ready then?"
Ruby’s face nearly lit up like a dustmas tree, before she regained her composure and rushed over to her handmade catapult. when he saw she was in position, Jaune shouldered Morning Glory, before glancing over to her.
Jaune: "Ready?"
Ruby nodded, before giving him a confident smile.
Ruby: "Ready!"
Jaune: "PULL!"
Ruby pulled back the lever, and watched as her target of choice was launched out at high speeds. Now usually Ruby would use Clay Pigeons when doing tests to shoot targets out of the air, but today she readied a couple special targets for today...
Water balloons.
Now typically when shot and popped, gravity would quickly take hold and water would drop harmlessly to the ground and no one would get splashed on. However, Ruby calculated the wind trajectory for today and launched the balloons at just the right angle So that when Jaune shot the balloons...
Two shots rang out and both balloons popped in quick succession at direct hits. Jaune smiled in satisfaction as he ejected his spent shells, before he yelped in shock as he ended getting drenched in the falling balloon water. the sun peaked out at just the right moment to add a shine to the now wet Jaune, his tight and corded muscles glistening in the suns rays as water trailed down him in what could only be described as slow motion. He whipped his head back and forth to get the water out of his head like a dog shaking to dry him self, while holding firmly onto Morning Glory as smoke trailed out of the barrels only adding to the emphasize the scene.
after managing to get most of the water out of his hair, Jaune huffed out an annoyed breath before he turned to address Ruby.
Jaune: "Gee, Thanks for the shower Ruby. If we’re going to keep using water balloons, maybe try and angle it away a little more?"
As Jaune looked over to confirm with Ruby, he was greeted with the sight of her biting her lower lip, a trail of blood leaking down her nose, and her face flushed as red as her namesake. She didn’t sound the least bit apologetic when she said.
Ruby: "I'll make sure my trajectory isn't off next time Jaune...~"
This was something I wrote long ago in the Archives of Madness (AKA @noneatnonedotcom and I’s Discord) and it was inspired by shotgun I saw a few years back, that of course, lead into a shitpost. I hope you all enjoyed this piece, and I’ll be working on getting the next big piece out soon enough.
#jaune arc#ruby rose#jaune arc x ruby rose#ruby rose x jaune arc#lancaster#rwby lancaster#rwby#rwby shitpost#shitpost#humor#Archives of Madness#super shotgun#double barreled shotgun
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Travel Log 11 + All the Sea's a Stage
Passage from Puukko's Travel Log
Venice dragged me kickin’ n’ screamin’ outta Mestre, or at the very least, I reckon so. That's honestly not very surprising t’ me. I do wonder if my falling ill were my body’s way of reconciling with m’ mind. It seemed t’ work. Regardless, followin’ its workin, so did I, too, start. Workin’ I mean. Fer Arturo, a fellow blacksmith and knife maker. Ye know all this, on account o’ the last entry. What ye may not know is since my betterin’, I've still been workin’ with and for ‘im.
I cleared me head fraught with fright an’ found I really and truly do not know what it is I'm doin’ out here. Difference now bein’ that I've sorta found peace in quiet resignation. I've submitted to the fact I'm miles away from Moominvalley on a fool’s errand, the fool bein’ me. I don't feel tortured by it n’ more. I feel more present here than I did on arrival, hell, maybe more present than I have this whole trip. Exceptin’ when I got shot at, that's nigh on the quickest way back t’ yer wits, if ye been there! Can't say I recommend it in place o’ coffee, though.
Venice is… well it's beautiful. Can hardly pick a spot to sit fer lunch without sighin’ a dreamy sigh. Water everywhere, an’ fine folks about. I find myself wishin’ I could show it to the folks back home. Still missin’ them, if only when I stop fer a bit. I've been wandering streets and stopping in shops, absorbing the local flavor. Exploring is somethin’ I'm keen on, and do well. Seems everybody's got wind in their sails fer the opening of the summer market. Seein’ as how I got grand designs fer that’un, too, I can't say I'm not excited. Spent quite a bit of time tryin’ new things ‘round these parts, but now everybody’s fixin’ to bring out the big guns!
Plan’s set fer tomorrow. Workin’ Arturo’s stall, sellin’ his pieces n’ mine, plus a lil somethin’ on the side for to pay him back in kind. Doubloons’ll make fer a good keepsake fer some I'm sure, an’ I'm quite happy to lighten m’ load.
Watch out, Venice! Puukko's prize-worthy knives are comin’ fer ya!
Signed Puukko
All the Sea's a Stage
Dawn had yet to break as folks of all manner had begun preparing market stalls in the wide open city square. Wagons, tables, tents, and even simple usherette trays surrounded a large central fountain. Draped fabric signs and sandwich boards boasted low prices and rare finds. Amongst the crowd and growing spectacle, Puukko groggily forced herself to set her and Arturo's stall and display. Early mornings hardly ever agreed with her, and by summer's start she'd usually have begun her yearly hibernation. Despite her disposition, she rather enjoyed the crisp morning air sinking into her fur. It reminded her of the cold Lonely Mountains in which she'd made her home.
She opened the large trunk she'd brought with her, and began setting the table with displays and cases, setting out knife after knife on crushed velvet. She nestled her coinpurse in the center, tastefully left open with a smattering of doubloons spilling out of it. As the sun rose from beyond the horizon, it cast a glow through the fountain's watery arches. The tentative quiet hustling of peddlers and purveyors shifted into warm welcomes under the morning's shadows as they baked away. Not being much for words quite yet, Puukko covered her stand with a cloth draped atop it, and set about the market in search of coffee.
Patron after patron shuffled in and shook off their slumber, brimming with excitement for the market's opening day. Despite the early hour, the crowd seemed to grow steadily and unceasingly. The aroma of freshly ground coffee beans steaming as they met with hot water reached out from the corner farthest from where she'd set up her stall. She hurried over, but the line had already formed. As she took her place in wait, she found a distinct sense of unease.
“I've managed crowds larger than this'un… s’ what gives?” She thought to herself. “New place and new faces, but this feels quite like somethin’ else.”
She looked about the area, her head on a swivel. The line ahead of her shimmied along as each guest received their morning elixir. She noted who was armed, and with what, but only saw a scant few chore knives. She looked again for any sign of strangeness and found only that everything was as it seemed, though she still could not shake the anxiety that had taken hold within her chest. She paid for her coffee and a small baked treat to nibble on, heading back over to her stall. Of the variety of customers and sellers in attendance, Puukko was among the tallest, though not alone in that fact. Her head stuck out above most others in the crowd, and she navigated the sea of people with a fair bit of ease despite her round shape and size.
The earthy and near chocolatey aroma of her coffee seemed to stymy the feeling tugging at her stomach on into the afternoon, and a busser came by for her mug and plate. The cool morning gradually became a warm day as she spoke with countless customers all seeking something different, yet the same at the end. Some wanted knives for cooking, others for hunting, daily tasks, and so on. Both her pieces and Arturo's sold in near equal quantity, and for a small fee, she'd wrap each in a drawstring bag with a doubloon carefully placed inside.
The excitement and energy of it all was matched in quality only by its peaceful nature, and in quantity by how much it seemed to unnerve Puukko. She found much to enjoy about the day, meeting new people and sharing stories here or there, though the prickly sensation of anxiety continued to creep back in no matter how many times she pushed it away. It proved to be a fearsome foe.
It was only a few hours after noon, and she'd nearly run out of stock. With only a few knives left on the table, she became restless. She searched the faces of the crowd, considering whether to pack it in early or hold out till she found new owners for all of her knives. It was then that she noticed an oddity. Something was out of place, and for the first time since the day began, she could put a finger on it. She saw from afar, a man with a particular style keeping his eyes on her dutifully.
He wore a long blue coat with large gold buttons atop a plain, but considerably old fashioned style of shirt. Atop his head was a red kerchief tied neatly at the back in the form of a cap, aside which dangled from his ears, two large gold hoops. The man had a mustache that curved into two sharp points, and was otherwise cleanly shaven. His striped slops tucked neatly into his tall boots, and above all else, he wore a sword and pistol at his waist. This was no ordinary citizen of Venice, this was a pirate. Puukko's heart unsteadied, as the image of the man appeared suddenly and as though ripped right from her past. Given what she'd been through the past months, she entertained the idea that it was a hallucination. She chanced a glance and turned her head to match his distant gaze, and just as soon as she'd seen him and he'd seen that she had, he walked off with purpose.
Puukko's mind bombarded her with thoughts. Had she been discovered by an old foe? Was she getting sick again? Did pirates still dress like that? She decided against pursuing him, figuring it to be for the best if she wasn't involved in old habits.
“Ma’am? Are you okay?” A voice broke through the din of the crowd, startling Puukko’s ears.
“Oh, uh. Yes, I'm fine.” She shook her head free from thought. “Anywho, how can I help you?” The thought of the pirate she'd seen gnawed at her. She was frozen much like she was in Mestre, poisoned by the gap between action and folly. She'd spent long enough playing the hero and the villain, but the consequences of her past felt more obvious and pointed in Venice.
“That's enough, Puukko. You've done enough. Don't ruin this, too. Ye don't need to be at the center o’ all the world's mischief.” She thought to herself with a heavy sigh. She continued peddling knives, half heartedly hoping for some direction. Either something would drag her back to Arturo's shop, or something would plunge her straight into trouble.
For a while, it seemed as though the excitement had died completely. She'd sold everything she'd brought, save for a few small pieces. With the market still lively, she'd decided upon packing it up for the day. The market would be waiting for her tomorrow, and she'd made enough to pay Arturo back for his kindness. She turned around, setting her earnings aside. Just then, she heard someone approach alongside a clinking of coins. She turned just in time to see a man grabbing her bag of doubloons from the table. He snatched the bag and began to sprint, only making it a short distance before Puukko leapt over the counter. Her massive form tackled him to the ground, sending gold coins scattering along the cobblestone.
“What in blazes do y’ think yer doin’ robbin’ an old woman like that?!” She shouted, pinning him to the ground with one paw and her knee.
“Run!” The man she tackled yelled past her.
Just the other side of her stall, a pirate rose with the strongbox containing today’s earnings. He began blazing through the crowd, swiftly toward one of the exits of the square. Puukko was enraged. Her money being stolen was one thing, but the money of the man who offered her a place to stay was another entirely. She stumbled to her feet off the pirate she'd stopped prior, and gave chase.
“Stop! Ye thievin’ bastard!” She struggled through the now alarmed bystanders, trying carefully not to bowl anyone over with her large frame. Her quarry was lithe and thin, capable of dodging past any would-be do-gooders that attempted to stop him. He climbed atop crates and over barrels with ease, all while carrying the box of money. Once through the thick of the crowd, she could finally run at her full speed. She made much headway toward him, nearly catching up. It seemed as though he was running toward the edge of town, nearest the port. Just as they turned the last corner between them and the docks, the pirate turned and readied his pistol, aiming it at Puukko. As she rounded the corner she stepped back seeing his gun, flattening herself against the wall for cover. The man pointed his pistol in the air, and fired. The resounding bang echoed throughout the streets.
The sound faded, accompanied by the pirate's boots striking the stone as he continued running. Puukko peeked around the corner, and upon seeing his fleeing once more, gave chase again. Moored in the harbor was an elegant and boldly painted frigate, she was maroon with ornate details in black and gold. A large crowd surrounded her, mostly average townsfolk, and atop the deck, several pirates were ready to welcome their fellow who'd snatched Puukko's money. He forced his way through the gathered crowd, across the gangway and aboard the ship. Puukko followed cautiously behind, parting the crowd with purpose.
“I come fer what's mine, and fer that alone!” She shouted as she crossed the gangway, approaching three armed men standing in the center of the ship's deck. “This don't need t’ be naught but a quick exchange o’ pleasantries.”
“A quick exchange it will be, Captain Whetstone.” The pirate in the center said. He inspected the money within the strongbox one of the other men held open for him.
“But no’ a pleasant one.” One of the other crewmen said, scowling. The tallest pirate, seemingly the man in charge, set Puukko's strongbox aside. He readied his cutlass idly, preparing a cautious approach.
“At arms, men!” The tall man said. The resounding sound of steel rang as each of the men present drew his sword. Pirates poured out from below deck, keeping their distance and lining the railings of the ship. Puukko reached for her knife, only able to reach the grip before a sword was pointed at her throat.
“Tsk tsk tsk… Hardly a weapon befitting a legend, Whetstone.” He rammed his cutlass into the deck just before her, backing away to draw the one resting at his waist. “Go on. It's all yours.”
She kept one eye on the cadre of pirates within the center of the semicircle drawn by the men lining the rails. She wrapped her paw around the grip of the sword, deftly plucking it from the wood of the deck. It'd been some time since she'd held a sword she hadn't made herself. It felt clumsy, but not unusable. She held it in front of her face, and gave a duelist’s greeting. She took in her surroundings, and for a brief moment, felt a stillness she hadn't in an age. The scent of the sea mingled with the aroma of oiled steel and anticipation. The longing, nagging sense that had become so familiar faded in an instant.
“D’ya reckon you'll make history today, boys?” Captain Whetstone said. “Or d’ya reckon you'll become it?” She paused a moment, awaiting any response.
Whetstone proceeded to charge at the man she presumed to be their leader with her sword low, and he raised his to counter it. She batted it aside, quickly closing the distance and striking him in the chest with the butt of her sword. He faltered in pain, and as he attempted to regain his balance she threw him hard to the ground.
As the first man tumbled, the second approached from behind with his blade raised high. She heard his approach and intercepted it behind her back, whirling around to deliver a powerful punch to his gut. He sputtered a moment, unable to recover from the wind being knocked out of him as Puukko shoved him to the ground as well. In mere moments, she'd felled two men without bloodshed. The gathered crowd of tourists, presumably here to see a historic ship docked at the harbor, got much more than they bargained for. Hoots and hollers overlapped with gasps of shock and awe.
She turned to the third man from the main group, the one who stole the chest in the first place. She stomped over, intense and slow. “So what’ll it be?” She growled. “There's more'an one reason I'm still alive. Better start thinkin’ on why those two still are.” She motioned with her sword to the men on the ground as she continued her swagger.
“What are you lot doing?! Get her!” The third man shouted as he backed away. Several of the men lining the railings ran in, battle cries emanating from each. Whetstone feinted a high cut against the first man to close the distance, instead reaching for her opponent's wrist as he attempted to guard against it. She twisted his arm, tripping him as she took his sword in her off hand. The men began to encircle her, but her speed and size made her a veritable cannonball on the battlefield. She kicked the nearest man she could in the chest, knocking him back into his fellows. As he tumbled back, she dashed out of the circle, letting loose a flurry of ferocious attacks with her swords. She had no intention of killing, nor even maiming the men, she was careful that her cuts all met steel instead of flesh.
“Halt, men! And hold fast!”A voice boomed from somewhere above, from a yardarm on the mainmast. “Avast, ye, Captain Whetstone. For you find yourself on the ship of the star of the seven seas, Mary the Razor!”
“Who?” Whetstone looked up, seeing a figure standing proudly and obscured, back-lit by the sun. The fighting ceased, the pirates that had surrounded her began backing away.
“I've known many names. O, ye who would know me as the daughter of the Cane King, know me no longer! For I no longer live in his shadow, but bask serenely in yours!” The figure swung from a rope, landing with a stylish roll onto the deck. She flipped the dark, curly hair that spilled out from beneath her feathered tricorn back over her shoulder and drew her sword. A fillyjonk woman, dressed in deep, royal blue. She held her sword aloft, the point hanging delicately in front of Whetstone's snout. It was ornate, and decorated with sapphires that matched her outfit.
“Marion..?” Puukko dropped her defensive stance, slack-jawed.
“‘Tis I! Mary the Razor, Pirate Queen!” The fillyjonk winked as she performed. She turned her blade edge up and drew back. “Taste steel, you blaggard!”
The crowd cheered as she swung at Puukko, several flashy cuts intercepted by her cutlasses. Puukko deflected a swing at her shoulder, but did not follow up. She instead bound her sword against Mary's, leaning in to have words.
“What the hell are you doing, Marion?” Puukko asked with a concerned whisper.
“Play along, I'll explain after!” Marion whispered loudly. She gave Whetstone a reassuring smile before throwing her weight into the bind, pushing hard against Puukko's guard. “I've got you, now, fiend!” She switched back into character with ease.
Puukko, confused and in awe, attempted to reassess the situation. She noted the relative ease with which the men she threw flew great distances, the fact that they'd all gotten up and out of the way when Mary interrupted, and finally she noted the sword she held against Mary's did not seem to bite into the other the way a sharp blade would. She smiled with warmth she had not beheld for years, and felt reinvigorated. She backstepped a fair distance, tossing one sword above her with a flip and catching it. She smirked as she rushed back into distance with Marion, swinging both swords at her side. Marion caught both with grace, twirling as she pushed them aside. Marion's footwork was elegant and dainty, but fully assured and confident.
Marion threw cut after cut at Puukko, sparks flying off of their blunted swords as they met. They danced on the deck together, neither of them seeming to have advantage over the other. Their blades flurried with panache, each completely lost in the art of combat, and both wearing a distinct and visible fondness for the other. The bout lasted longer than any either had faced before, and was as rife with passion as it was complexity. After much swordplay, Marion thrusted dead center, forcing Puukko to append her cutlasses in defense.
“Surrender!” Mary said, her blade being held back by Whetstone's two, her free hand behind her and away with flamboyant bravado. “You've met with certain defeat!”
Whetstone bound her swords to Mary's, barely able to abate the force of her thrust. She took one step to the side, throwing her left sword into the deck, it sticking out a few feet away with a twang as it flexed from the force. Whetstone pushed Mary's sword into the strong portion of her own blade, against the guard.
“I reckon I have.” Whetstone reached up with her now empty paw and forced Mary's hat down over her face, shoulder checking her with gentle force. Marion's hat tumbled to the deck, and as she regained her composure, Whetstone placed her paw on the small of her back and swooped her down for a kiss, casting both hers and Marion's sword aside. Some in the crowd applauded loudly, as others shared confused looks with one another. The crew aboard the ship began to bow, some firing pistols and cannons into the air and cheering.
“I never thought I'd see you again.” Puukko spoke quietly, gazing into her lover's eyes.
“And I always knew you would.” Marion countered with a smile.
–
“I can hardly believe it. After all these years, I cannot believe it's really you!” Puukko set her cup of coffee back on its saucer. Below the deck of Marion's ship was a comfortable if somewhat gaudy atmosphere. The walls were littered with a smattering of what the modern mind would attribute to a stereotypical pirate, and though aboard a ship, many loose knick knacks and bottles sat upon shelves or against walls. An array of cushions were laid about small tables, alongside stools and chairs surrounding larger tables and counters. Rich reds and buttery golds set against rustic yet polished wood, and atop it all, a variety of lights enough to give the whole area a comfortably dim warmth. Puukko sat across from the love she'd thought she'd lost, as the crew walked about freely handling this or that.
“Captain, I…” Marion's eyes began to well up with tears.
“Don't ye start with that, else I will too!” Puukko smiled wide. It felt odd for her. “‘sides, not yer captain n’ more! Ain't even got me own ship.”
“There was a time I thought you dead.”
“An’ I, you. Though, I guess on yer end that were my own doin’. I did fake m’ own death. Or somethin’ like that I s’pose. Sorry about that…” Puukko fiddled, turning her cup around repeatedly on its plate.
“I– or I mean, we, did eventually find out what happened to you. What you did for us. But by then, no one was sure where you'd gone. Or if you'd survived out on your own. After that, it just… fell apart. Some of the crew came with me for a time, but everyone eventually made peace with the freedom you'd bought them in exchange for the freedom you'd given them at sea. Most decided to honor you by living the lives you'd saved for them.”
“If'n you'll allow me t’ speak truth, I don't deserve all that. I did it fer you, Marion.” The two of them sat in solemn silence for a moment as the ship bobbed idly in the harbor. “So… yer not actually still a pirate, I reckon?” Puukko asked, cocking her head to the side.
“No, we're uh, mostly involved in shipping goods and things of that nature…” Marion looked away.
“We're a traveling themed restaurant!! We do live theater!” A passing crewmember offered as he passed the table, walking off to another room.
Marion blushed, her face turning bright red as she attempted to hide her embarrassment. “Thank you, Marcus, very helpful!” She sarcastically shouted back to him before palming her face.
“No problem Miss M!” Marcus gave a thumbs up from behind the open doorway.
“That's Captain! Captain M! Oh, he can't hear me now…” Marion said, still hiding from Puukko's gaze.
Pukkko couldn't help but laugh at the exchange. She wiped a tear from her eye. “Well, that explains the furniture. And the crowd.”
“Do you like it? It's all weighted or nailed down so as not to fall during shows and while the guests are eating. Though, it does make it more difficult to pack up when we sail. The cushions and low tables are for guests with poor balance, and– Ah, I'm sorry, you don't need to hear all that. I'm just glad to have you back.”
“No, please,” Puukko held Marion's paw with both of her own. “Tell me everything.” She listened intently, growing more smitten with each detail Marion excitedly shared with her.
Puukko and Marion spent the next several hours together, making up for lost time. Then, they spent the next several days together, too. They sailed and performed along the Italian coast. They performed fearsome displays of swordplay within the lines of a play Marion had written for them long ago, and in the evenings they performed silly cliché pirate songs to immerse their dinner guests. They spent almost every hour of every day with one another, sharing everything they'd missed after so many years. It was nearing midsummer, and despite the past few days being a dream come true, the two began to feel ill at ease.
“Hey, Koko.” Marion smiled at Puukko. She was just beginning to wake, early in the morning. “There's something we need to talk about.”
“If it's about my acting, I'm workin’ on it!” She laughed as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Marion's bed was quite large and comfortable, though it took up most of her cabin.
“We're planning on heading back out to sea. The Mediterranean. We'll be sailing out to Greece, next, I believe.”
“I see.” The gears in Puukko's head began to turn. She didn't want this to end, but knew from the start it would have to. She couldn't abandon Moominvalley.
“I was hoping you'd come with us. You're a living legend, and it'd really help draw a crowd.” She held back all that she'd wanted to say.
“Ye don't be needin’ Captain Whetstone to stay afloat.” She gave a half-hearted smile. “Yer a sight to behold all yerself. As much as I want to go with you lot, I… I can't. It wouldn't be right. To the folks back home, and to you. I uprooted ya when we first met, then did it again when I died.”
“Puukko…”
“I can't keep clippin’ wings, lass. I'm an anchor. I'm grapeshot through the mainsail. If I let go of Moominvalley now, I'd never forgive m’self.”
“I understand.” Marion laid back down, staring at the ceiling. They sat in silence for a few minutes. The rolling of the waves was peaceful, though both their minds were not. The silence seemed to stretch on and on.
“I've got a house.” Puukko offered weakly, breaking the silence with a start.
“In Moominvalley?”
“Mhm.” Puukko nodded. “In the mountains. Can't see the sea from most of it, save fer if ye head up on the tower. I used t’ go up there ‘n think about you.”
“Wait, tower?”
“It's a moomin thing, don't ask.” She chuckled. “It's good country, Marion. Lots of folk down in the valley leadin’ strange and loveable lives. They count me among ‘em, I reckon. It's beautiful, and peaceful, and–” She hesitated. “and lonely.”
“I see… It sounds beautiful.”
“It could be our home. Together.” She shook her head from side to side, already knowing the answer Marion would give. She knew inside that she could not take Marion away from all of this, but she felt that she needed to make the failed attempt to fully understand.
“I cannot go with you, Puukko. I fell in love with the sea as much as I did you all those years ago. She is deep and unfathomable. Unknowable in her entirety.” She sighed. “She's constant and endless… but I am not. Her waves always return to the shore. She'll always be there, but I won't. One day I'll grow too old to sail, and I fear it sooner every day.” Her voice began to tremble slightly. “But when that day comes, I'll find you. And without that dread and grief you've felt this whole time, you'll have grown again. And you'll have grown apart from me for the first time since we met. You'll be a woman anew. And I can fall in love with you all over again.” Tears streamed from her eyes. She held onto Puukko by the arms, looking her in the face with a weak smile. “Can you do that for me, Captain? Can you be my shore to break upon once my time as a wave has ceased?”
“I… I reckon I can.” She squeezed Marion tight to her chest in an embrace. The weight of grief borrowed from a goodbye soon to come weighed heavy on her, but for the time being, she chose to carry it while enjoying the time she still had with her beloved.
#Whetstone's whispers#moomins#moomin oc#i just realized all the formatting and italics and stuff got reset when moving it onto here#im not gonna go through and fix that#now im mad
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Skull and Bones
ᒥ☠ᒧ— The hunt had begun, their colors hoisted high as the Queen Anne's Revenge moves swift in the wind. He holds the helm, standing tall and proud as his eyes locked on the merchant ship under hundred meters ahead. Just a three-masted Barque, nothing impressive, but had caught his eye nonetheless. Hunting a British trade route meant plenty of goodies on her: tabacco, sugar, or if they were lucky fine fabrics like calicoes and silk.
"Awright, dogs! We be upon her now!" Edward shouts to his crew, and came the fun part. Putting the fear of God into his intended prey. His men worked the main deck, pulling lines and prepping the gun decks.
He clears his throat and begins to stomp his foot, the pull began to move in sync with the rhythm their captain stomped loud.
"Yo-ho, yo-ho. The seas forever roll. Yo-ho, yo-ho. 'Til 'm not but skull and bones. Yo-ho, yo-ho." Edward begins, his crew working as one now.
"From outcast to kingpin, was born up on the sea! Ne'er was meant to walk the land, a pirate's life for me! Avast ye whining, up the sails, don't speak to mutiny! Or find yourself a'wantin' quarter, bottom of the sea! Among the shoals of Saint Anne, to the eastern shores! I'll take my chances on the wind, to loot and plunder scores! Our flag it stands for us alone, and no one else around! We owe our honor to the sea, and not to any crown!!" His voice booms over the deck, and many began to stomp their feet with their captain all while doing their job.
Just then, the crew begins. A thunderous chorus of voices shout together.
Yo-ho, yo-ho!
The sea forever rolls!!
Yo-ho, yo-ho!
The winds forever blow!
Long after I've met Davy Jones!
'Til I'm naught but skin and bones!
Yo-ho!
Edward smirks, he had done this many times. The commotion of his ship, three hundred men shouting together in unison, made quite the impact on their intended target. It was haunting, chilling to know that many men were not only upon your vessel, but had the intention to board and loot you of your goods. It was a mind game, and Edward loved his games.
"So, me bullies, bottoms up! Raise the sails and drink with me! Here's to us! 'Live long and long live piracy'! Bring her round into the white, if treasures to be found! A pirate's life or nothing else, 'til the ship she's going down!" As he shouts, his grip tightens on the wheel. Excitement is overwhelming him now.
Yo-ho, yo-ho!
The sea forever rolls!!
Yo-ho, yo-ho!
The winds forever blow!
Long after I've met Davy Jones!
'Til I'm naught but skin and bones!
Yo-ho!
"Heave-ho, me hearties one by one!"
Heave-ho, me hearties one by one!
"A pirate's life until were done!"
A pirate's life until were done!
"Heave-ho, me hearties bring her round!"
Heave-ho, me hearties bring her round!
"A pirate's life for me I've found!"
A pirate's life for me I've found!
Yo-ho, yo-ho!
The sea forever rolls!!
Yo-ho, yo-ho!
The winds forever blow!
Long after I've met Davy Jones!
'Til I'm naught but skin and bones!
Yo-ho!
His crew were growing antsy, shouting at the top of their lungs now. Edward laughs, now near bouncing in place as he stomped his foot with all his might.
Song: || X ||
#arr or some shit (in character)#open starter#//I had way too much fun writing this I'm not gonna lie#//Length does not need to be matched
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Medic T-Word Alphabet
Gonna be doing @otomiya-tickles 's Tickly Alphabet for all the mercs, but instead of having people ask, nah, I'm gonna give it to you up-front, all of them (spare a few for personal reasons).
Also, this is my first actual post, so I might as well make tags for these guys-
Alright, let's get to the headcanons, doc is first :]
A: Aftercare | What is their aftercare like after a heavy round of tickling?:)
Medic will absolutely be wanting to take your temperature or some weird shit (mad doctor, he can't help but be curious) after he's done wrecking you. So once you're done swatting his hand away and giving him a questioning look, he'll finally sigh and grab his Medi gun, granting you a quick zap that will have you feeling like nothing ever happened. If that's not what you want and start complaining, he'll call you ungrateful and threaten to wreck you again.
However... if he's in a particularly good mood, or you're exceptionally close, he'll sit down and massage you instead, rub your shoulders, nice things to help you relax and wind down... All while verbally recalling every embarrassing moment of what just happened, much to your dismay (he thinks it's funny).
B: Bondage | How do they react to bondage, do they enjoy it and if yes, what is their favorite pose?
When being the ler, he's extremely calculated, so, if the lee is alright with it, he'll sometimes want to have them pinned, in some way. He doesn't exactly care how, as long as it leaves them exposed, just so he can get at every single nerve and test their reactions to things.
When he's the lee? He's absolutely good with it, but he'll fight against it while they attempt to get him ensnared. If you somehow managed to get him pinned, he's all yours. Will probably act super dramatic about it, stuff like "OH NOOO, I've been trapped!". Then he'll just sit there with this expectant look on his face until you actually do something. Nerd.
C: Chase | What are their chances in a chase, both as a lee and ler?
When he's the ler, you're 100% going to have a problem getting away from this guy. Given how intelligent he is, and the fact that he's faster than a lot of members of the team, he's either going to outrun or outsmart you. If you're getting to far ahead, he'll take a different route, making you think you lost him, just to suddenly hear his boots clacking loudly behind you. He'll also attempt to purposely scare you into dead ends, just so he can watch the panic that sets in as he slows to a calm walk, knowing that you have absolutely nowhere to go.
As the lee, he's the biggest smart-ass about it. "Getting outrun by a doctor? How embarrassing!" "I diagnose you with 'not going to catch me'!" His favorite thing is definitely flustering the ler before they can even get their hands on him. "You're supposed to be making my face red!" Won't slow down, will avoid all dead ends. You started a game that you will not win. The only way to get to him is being Scout TF2, sorry. Therefore, I highly recommend starting the chase when he's already cornered, or not even starting one, just immediately pouncing.
D: Death Spot | What is their most ticklish spot?
Oh my god, shoulders and shoulder blades. His gear covers it for the most part during battles, but when it's not? Sneaking up on him and clawing down his back will cause him to shriek, promptly turning to face his attacker. Also lets out the most adorable giggles if you gently spider across those areas, blushes and squirms and everything. If you somehow manage to pin him onto his stomach, tickling harshly across his shoulder blades will have him cackling almost maniacally. As soon as you let him go, you better run, because unless it's your immediate first move, he's going to grab your ankle and drag you down to the floor with him, enacting his revenge.
E: Expression | How do they express their wish to tickle/be tickled?
If he's intent on tickling you, he'll simply clear his throat to grab your attention before wiggling his fingers in the air. As if that's not bad enough, he'll say shit like "I'm only going to check for broken bones..." "Just going to make sure your lungs are working!" If you don't start laughing at the stupid teases, you're going to the minute his fingers make contact with you.
If he wants to be tickled, he'll probably try to purposely annoy/piss you off, somehow, or at least provoke you. "I bet you can't make me laugh." "You are the worst at tickling. Oh? Going to prove me wrong? Ja, okay, sure." Depending on how heated the argument gets, you may both end up yelling at each other, but that shit-eating grin is gonna be on his face the entire time.
F: Fight | What is their behavior in a tickle fight like?
If there's an entire group going at it, he'll single someone out, sneaking up behind them to take them by surprise, and immediately jab his fingers into the most sensitive spots on their body (he's responsible for giving the mercs check-ups, so believe me, he knows all the spots). After they've crumpled to the floor, he'll become much more teasing about it, unless he's pissed. If that's the case, pray someone else goes after him, and, hopefully, not just join in on tickling you to death.
If it's just you and him, he knows you'll be much more focused, so he'll have to resort to simply pinning your wrists above your head with one of his hands and pretending he doesn't know exactly where to strike with his other one to make you lose it. Eventually circling back to those spots will have him saying things like "What an interesting discovery..." and the extremely ominous "Typical for a mortal to be sensitive here..." No one questions it; they're usually too busy laughing and squirming away from his touch to truly process it, anyways.
G: Gentle | How do they react to gentle tickles?
He actively welcomes them :] it's actually extremely cute. He'll squirm around a bit, but it's all involuntary. He actually finds them extremely comforting; if you gently tickle him while he's trying to work, he'll attempt to scold you for it, but it melts away through bubbly giggles. Half the time, he'll basically fall asleep once you're done. No doubt after he wakes up, though, he's going to hunt you down and get revenge for 'taking several hours out of his day in place of sleep'. Get some fucking rest, doc, you kind of need it. Badly.
H: Habits | As a lee/ler or both, do they have specific habits when it comes to tickling?
Be afraid if he takes his glasses off and sets them somewhere safe. He's about to get serious. No matter how hard you may flail, he's going to abuse every weak point he can reach, with incredible accuracy.
Giving him gentle tickles sometimes causes the cutest thing ever to occur. If you slowly try to draw your hand back, he'll slump forwards subconsciously, attempting to follow it with his eyes shut like a big, dumb cat. As soon as he snaps out of it, his face is redder than his uniform (works for both teams LMAO). Bonus points if you laugh at his reaction, because he's going to have you beneath him, screaming in laughter in under 5 seconds (with that flustered look remaining on his face the entire time).
I: Interrogation | How well would they handle a tickle interrogation?
If he's conducting the interrogation? Girl put me in that chair-
Anyways, he could be laughing at full volume the entire time, but not a single secret is gonna slip from this man. He'll throw you a bunch of sassy remarks, but that's about it. Again, he loves flustering the ler(s), so if he can get you to blush, it's a massive confidence boost to him. He's especially going to threaten them with what he's going to do once they release him. "Be careful when you let me go... You're going to be sitting in this chair, next." Laughs even harder if the interrogator clearly has some thoughts about that idea.
J: Joy | Their absolute favorite thing about tickling?
Being mostly a ler, probably gauging the other person’s reactions. He’s super interested in seeing how they react to certain things, practically turns it into an experiment, but he has a lot of fun doing it, too. Bastard will sometimes be muttering things to himself like he’s taking notes while the person beneath him is just gasping for air. Will ask questions like “Where does it tickle most?” If he doesn’t get a response… “Fine. I’ll find it myself.”
K: Killer Move | As a ler, do they have special skills to use against their lees and drive them crazy with?
If he pulls out his Medi gun before the onslaught is over, do not trust it. If he has you pinned down, he’ll expose you wherever you’re most ticklish before zapping that area with the beam from his gun. WORST THING EVER. It creates a weird vibrating-tickling feeling, absolutely gonna drive you insane. Worst part is, it’s not like you can shove the beam away like you can a hand; you’re just gonna have to try covering yourself to the best of your ability. Seeing you lose it will spur comments like “What? I’m just healing you”, and yet he’ll sit there and watch with his head leaning into his hand, propped up on his elbow with a smirk on his face.
L: Laughter | What does their laughter sound like when they are tickled?
Medic does that loud cackle most of the time, unless you’re either just starting to tickle him or doing it gently. Then you’ll hear the cutest giggles ever. As long as you’re being aggressive enough, he won’t blush, and usually won’t even try fighting back. Once he’s had enough, though, he’ll either push you off or jab at you methodically until you involuntarily collapse in on yourself to protect from his retaliation.
M: Mornings | Their tickle behavior during mornings?
He’s usually up bright and early (as he is to bed super late), but he definitely is not a morning person. He just gets up early to get more work done. In the case where he’s had his morning coffee, if you’re lucky, it’ll put him in a really good mood, and he’ll be super playful. Poking at him will give the exact reaction you’re looking for; he can tell whether you want to make him squirm, or be the one getting poked, just from looking at you. Will get this cheerful smile on his face and go “Ah, alright!” Is usually gentle when he gets like this, almost loving. Won’t even try taking your temperature afterwards :]
However… if he’s not in a good mood? Better not piss him off; this man will not hesitate. If you try to initiate something, he’ll turn on you in a whirlwind and have you down before you even know what’s happening. He’ll watch you squirm around frantically and say shit like “Oh, was? You want more? Well, if you insist.” Won’t stop until he will probably need to use the Medi gun on you, even then he’ll go through a round of “Oh, you want me to heal you? I guess that’s just too bad.” before he gives in and grants you a quick zap. Yeah, his reactions can vary extremely.
N: Nights | Their tickle behavior during nights?
He works very late into the night, and he usually doesn’t get tired until the last hour or so he’s awake. If you try provoking him during that last hour, he’ll just clumsily swat you away, muttering “nein, nein” under his breath. However, before then? If you insist on having a chase, he will get super fucking excited. He loves nothing more than the fear of not knowing what’s in the dark, whether he’s the one feeling it or he’s instilling it in you. This is actually one of those rare cases where you actually might be able to catch him. He doesn’t exactly have night vision (and you don’t either) so resorting to stalking the other in the shadows is bound to happen.
O: Online | Text messaging and social media, do they have some kind of online tickly behavior to tease their lee or ler with?
The doc is extremely good at writing, so uhh… you can imagine just how skilled he would be at flustering someone over text/call. Shit like “You’re not going to be so confident once I get my hands around your waist…” and “Oh, you think that’s funny? I can make you laugh even harder. Come to the infirmary ;)”. Going to be a smug bitch the next time he sees you. If he’s teasing his ler, however, will say stuff like “Well, too bad, you’re not going to get at me because the door is locked.” Definitely going to get wrecked the next time if he gets his ler a little too riled up.
P: Partner In Crime | If they were to go after a lee and accept the aid of a tickle partner, who do they prefer to join hands with and why?
Well, the obvious answer here would be Heavy. They hang out a lot, so chances are, if he's going to gang up on you with someone else, it's gonna be Heavy. He can very easily hold someone in place (although he is very careful about it), while Medic uses his extremely skilled hands.
However, I propose an alternative, as well... Medic is obviously pretty damn strong. He can absolutely hold his lee down himself, no problem. Given this... two sets of hands are always worse better than one. I think Spy would probably be his 2nd biggest partner in crime. For example, if he's in the middle of a chase with you, you might accidentally slam into something... invisible. Before you know it, Spy has you on the ground, an amused look on his face. He was finding it fairly entertaining watching the two of you run around, and decided it would be even better if he helped the already scarily talented doctor wrench even more laughter out of you. Two lers who have horribly flexible hands... this can only go well.
Q: Question | Their response to the question ‘are you ticklish’?
You're never gonna get a direct answer out of this bastard. He'll slowly turn to you, an innocent smile stretching across his face, his hands clasped together.
"Why don't you find out?"
It's an invitation as much as it is a taunt. A fight is 100% going to break out- a tickle fight, that is. But then again, that's only if you have the nerve to engage with how confidently he's looking at you. Either way, he'll get what he wants.
R: Role | Lee or ler, what is generally their main role?
Almost always a ler, enjoying the feeling of having control over others. The very thought of everyone else knowing that he knows exactly how to make them crumple to the floor gets him excited. Most people don't mess with him unless they're A) pissed at him or B) just really wanna get wrecked.
However, when he's in a lee mood, it's a refreshing change. Just as teasing about it, specifically to provoke the other, but he'll rarely fight back.
T: Teasing | Their most favorite methods of teasing their lee/ler?
Doc definitely pretends it's a medical exam, or a surgery, or something along the lines of that.
"Now, this is a very important procedure, so I'm going to need you to hold still," he says as he tickles you as fast as humanly possible.
"Oops! Sorry, didn't mean to... tickle your funny bone?" He'll laugh at his own stupid joke, his barely audible over yours. "Oh, you thought that was funny, ja? How flattering!"
Hell, he just enjoys verbally teasing in general.
"I wonder what would happen if I tried to play you like my violin?" He'll suddenly scratch horizontally across whatever area he's targeting, fast. Will probably start humming whatever tune he's picturing playing before sparing you a glance. "Oh, how peculiar... it appears I forgot to tune it." Before you can register what's happening, he's focusing quick jabs into your most sensitive spot.
Basically, you're going to be a blushing mess (he'll probably pull some shit like 'oh my, you look like you're running a fever').
U: Unusual | Do they have some unusual tickle spots? Where?
Will screech like a startled dove if you pinch at his hips. It is the funniest thing, and he will absolutely not let you get away with it. That is... if you let up on it. If you keep drilling your fingers into those two spots, he'll be out for the count, legitimately blushing out of pure embarrassment. It might not be his most sensitive spot, but it sure is one he doesn't want anyone else knowing about (surprisingly).
V: Victim | As a ler, who is their favorite lee and what makes this person their ultimate victim?
This is a super biased headcanon, but Engineer (I totally don't ship Engie and Medic /s). Since he's always healing everyone else, he usually has to make semi-frequent trips to dispensers during battles. Unless he's out on a quick adventure for scrap metal, Engineer will be right there, working on one of his buildings. "Hallo, Herr Engineer!" is all the poor man hears before two sets of fingers are poking him on either side, causing him to jump and stifle a few giggles. It's basically his way of saying 'thanks for the provisions' before running back to the front.
But when they aren't in battle? The two will often visit each other to see how each's experiments are going (both of very different natures). So different, in fact, sometimes when Engie asks how it's going, Medic will hum before saying, "Let me check." Knowing how the doctor views the other mercs, you get where this is going... He finds it adorable how Engineer forgets every single time, laughing in a tone of genuine surprise as Medic tickles him.
W: Word | What is their reaction to the T-word? Can they say it out loud or do they get embarrassed?
Oh, he can say it, alright. In fact, he immensely enjoys saying it just to tease whoever is about to be his lee, especially if they've got it so bad that they can't keep a straight face hearing the word. Upon seeing their reaction to what he uttered, he'll get a delighted grin on his face.
"What's wrong? You seemed to get a little nervous when I said 'tickle', mein freund. Ah, there it is again!" He'll repeat it as many times as he pleases, much to the lee's dismay, until they're practically begging him to just stop and do it, already.
If that happens, he'll giggle a bit. "Alright. If you insist!"
-
Ohhh it's done. Wow. That took much longer than anticipated. Still, I can't wait to do all the other mercs, it's really fun :]
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Before the Spark
CHAPTER 2: MARDY BUM
Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here, and the next one here.
General Warning: This story is part of the HPHM Rockstar AU. As such, there is a general warning of the possible occurrence of NSFW / mature topics. These can include sexual depictions or references, inappropriate language, (ab)use of alcohol, drug abuse, and smoking. Specific warnings for each particular chapter will be given in advance.
A/N: David Willows belongs to @that-scouse-wizard. Warning: language.
Well now then Mardy Bum
I've seen your frown
And it's like looking down the barrel of a gun
And it goes off
~Arctic Monkeys - Mardy Bum ~
The little café nestled between the big old trees of All Saints Park on the campus of Manchester Metropolitan University was one of Lizzie’s favourite places to spend her time. It was a nice, quiet spot with cosy, upholstered wicker chairs, a nice view of the park, and the best coffee in the immediate area surrounding the campus.
Lizzie came here often - almost daily - to study, hang out with her friends, or just enjoy the bustle of university life around her. That was probably what she liked best about the café - it was located in the heart of Manchester, but there was a certain peace in sitting underneath the trees with a coffee in hand and listening to the wind ruffling through the leaves above.
Most people stopping by the café came here for the same reasons, to take a breather and relax for a little while. Some of them weren’t as relaxed as Lizzie would have liked them to be, though; it had happened more than once that she’d had to face the irritation of another guest, telling her to knock it off with her noise.
Lizzie was usually sorry, but never for longer than a second. Her constant need to move and tap her fingers or foot against something wasn’t something she could just stop. It was a habit she’d had since she had learned to play the drums as a little girl and had become so engraved in her behaviour that it had turned into more of an unconscious thing.
For a Northern English summer, the weather had been unusually nice as of late, and Lizzie and her friends had gathered in the café to enjoy the sun and study for their upcoming exams. Most of their good intentions had been discarded with their second round of coffee, however, and now their books were lying forgotten in front of them.
“I’m just saying,” Lizzie’s friend and roommate Skye Parkin said and shook her head, her messy brown hair with the dyed blue ends falling into her eyes. “If we’re gonna do it, we’re gonna have to do it now. Dad says the market’s good for new artists at the moment, and he knows just the right people.”
“‘If we’re gonna do it’ being the key here,” Lizzie rolled her eyes. She took her coffee and swirled the cup to make the three shots of syrup that had settled on the ground disperse again. “You can’t do much music with just a drummer and a bass player.”
“Oh, please,” Skye snorted. “As if there weren’t a shit ton of blokes with guitars lining up to work with us.”
“Work with your dad, you mean. And it’s not like any of us can sing either.”
“If that’s the least of your concerns, there’s -”
“It’s not,” Lizzie cut her off, feeling her patience shorten. They’d had this discussion numerous times in the last few weeks, and she was growing sick of it. “Have you ever considered that maybe I don’t want to be in a band with you?”
Skye snorted again, but this time with laughter. “Why wouldn’t you, Jameson? I’m a fucking delight.”
“You’re a fucking nuisance.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“You bet I do.”
The two girls shared a chuckle, followed by a short silence.
“So you’re thinking about it?” Skye asked after another moment, making Lizzie dip her head back into her neck with an exasperated sigh.
“Can’t you just give it a rest?”
“Not until you say yes.”
“You’re in for the long haul then. I don’t even see why it has to be me. Your dad must know hundreds of drummers.”
“Because you’re bloody amazing on the kit,” Skye said, completely serious, before a smug grin formed on her face. “And because you put up with me.”
“Fuck knows why,” Lizzie grumbled. “But you’re barking up the wrong tree here. I’m not even free, and you know it.”
Skye made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “That funny little cover band you have with Willows? Come on, it’s not like that’s getting you anywhere.”
“Good to know,” David Willows, Lizzie’s classmate and founder of the band she was currently playing in, spoke up with a wry tone. “You’re just moping we didn’t ask you to join.”
Lizzie gave him a pleading look. “Can you make her see sense, please?”
“I’d love to, mate, but I gotta run. A girl from my hall desperately wanted help with her training.”
David looked smug as he said so, making Skye scoff and Lizzie shake her head with a badly subdued grin. He downed the rest of his coffee and stuffed his book into the red-and-white rucksack with the crest of Liverpool FC on it. Skye looked at him in disgust.
“One day, they’re gonna mug you for this.”
“Worth it,” David shrugged before directing a questioning look at Lizzie. “Do you want me to save you a seat in Biomechanics tomorrow?”
“Back row, please.”
“Naturally. Ladies.”
With a wink, David tipped his fingers against his temples and made his way across the grass of All Saints Park toward the university buildings. Skye looked after him and shook her head.
“Blokes like him are the reason I can’t be bothered with them.”
They spent the rest of their afternoon in the café, chatting about football, their exams, and the general gossip. Lizzie waved a pretty blonde girl over, a chemistry student living in the same hall as Lizzie and Skye. She had just arrived, walking behind a black-haired guy and a smaller woman with odd, violet-coloured eyes; Lizzie thought they might be working in the café but wasn’t quite sure of it. The blonde girl waved back and bounded over, beginning to talk in an excited stream of chatter before she had even sat down.
She told them about the event she was helping organise, a big party to celebrate the end of the semester. Apparently, she had been working on convincing the planning committee to turn the party into an open stage night to make it more immersive.
At the mention of an open stage, Skye’s eyes lit up. She glanced at Lizzie, but before she had the chance to say anything, Lizzie quickly rose to her feet.
“Enough talking for today,” she said as she pushed her notes into a pile. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve still got some actual studying to do.”
Skye made a face but began packing up her things as well. She turned to leave, pausing with a frown when Lizzie didn’t follow her. “What now, Jameson? I thought you wanted to go.”
“I’ll be with you in a sec,” Lizzie replied, fishing her purse from the bottom of her bag. “I just want to get myself another cherry iced tea.”
“Not like you had three already,” Skye muttered. “Wouldn’t be surprised if you turned into a cherry yourself, at the rate you’re drinking this shit.”
“And wouldn’t I be a delicious one.”
Skye grinned and shook her head as Lizzie disappeared inside the café. “Just hurry the fuck up, yeah?”
As the days leading up to their exams flew past, Skye wouldn’t stop pestering Lizzie about her idea for a new band. Preparations were strenuous, and Lizzie soon reached a point where the simple act of Skye opening her mouth was enough to earn herself a warning glare.
Having lived together for close to a year now, it didn’t surprise Lizzie when that didn’t stop Skye, however. On a particularly rainy day, on their way home from the gym, where Lizzie had been training for an upcoming physical exam, it was finally enough.
“Can’t you just shut up even for a second?” she snapped, angrily adjusting the strap of her gym bag on her shoulder. “You and your stupid band are costing me my last bloody nerve. There’s enough on my plate as it is. At this point, you’d need a fucking miracle for me to join you, so just drop it!”
“Woah,” Skye replied, raising her hands defensively. “Someone’s mardy today. Look at how much bullshit you’re talking.”
Seeing Lizzie’s quickly darkening look, Skye gave her a little push towards the café they were just passing. “What you need is either a good shag or some caffeine. Or maybe some sugar, but that’s the same with you anyway. Go get yourself a coffee, and then we can talk.”
Lizzie rolled her eyes but left Skye standing underneath the dripping canopy on the café’s terrace anyway. When she entered the café, she found it to be as good as empty. Only a few students had braved the rain, all of them sitting scattered around the room with steaming mugs and laptops on the tables in front of them.
The baristas seemed to be having a quiet shift, too. Two of them were busy staking stock, while a third - the girl with the violet-coloured eyes and a flashy orange streak in her dark hair - was sitting on the counter, picking at a hole in her ripped jeans with a bored expression on her face. As Lizzie approached the counter, one of the other baristas - the dark-haired guy Lizzie had often seen with the girl - said something that made her roll her eyes. She hopped off the counter a moment later and met Lizzie at the checkout.
“Hi, what can I do for you?”
She sounded bored, and Lizzie wondered how long she’d been sitting there with nothing to do. Lizzie herself would have probably gone mad with nothing to do for several hours in a row. She was broken out of her thoughts when the girl behind the counter repeated her question, sounding more annoyed than bored this time.
“So, what do you want?”
“I’ll have a cherry iced tea, please.” Lizzie gave the girl a friendly smile, which was met by an indifferent shrug.
“Cherry iced tea is off the menu.”
The news took Lizzie by surprise. “Oh, what a shame! Why’s that?”
“Do I look like I know? We just don’t have it anymore. Pick something else.”
Unsure of what to order instead, Lizzie studied the chalkboard hanging from the ceiling. She had been so set on getting herself her favourite pick-me-up that nothing she could spot on the menu had quite the same appeal. When after almost a minute Lizzie still hadn’t reached a conclusion, the barista made an impatient noise.
“Are you quite done now? I’ve got other things to do.”
With a flare of irritation, Lizzie ordered a hazelnut latte, which the girl with the violet eyes promptly went to prepare. She passed her black-haired friend on the way to the coffee machine and stopped for a moment to quietly speak to him. Then, for whatever reason, she walked past the coffee machine and towards a different part of the counter. Lizzie’s frown turned into astonishment when the girl returned, carrying a clear plastic cup with ice cubes and a bright red liquid inside.
“I thought you don’t have cherry iced tea anymore,” she said as she was handed her order.
“Apparently, we do,” the barista replied with a roll of her eyes.
Lizzie reached into her pocket to get her purse out when the other girl shook her head. “It’s on the house.”
“Thanks,” Lizzie said, her astonishment growing even further. “Why’s that?”
“Take it as a reward for finally shutting up and leaving me alone.”
Lizzie looked at the two other baristas working in the café today. Her eyes met the ones of the dark-haired one before he quickly concentrated on the list he’d been working on again. Lizzie wondered if the iced tea was on him and - if so - why he’d give her one for free but eventually, she shrugged it off; she’d rather enjoy a good thing than question it. She reached into her purse and placed a couple of coins on the counter anyway.
“Please tell whoever is happy for me to shut up and leave thank you.”
The barista looked between Lizzie and the money with an incredulous expression. “I said it’s for free.”
“There’s no price for making my day better,” Lizzie smiled, stirring her iced tea with the straw. The sound of the ice cubes rattling against the cup made her mood lift almost instantly.
Taking the money off the counter, the barista muttered, “Absolutely mental,” to herself, but Lizzie didn’t care. She turned away with a happy smile, taking the first sip of the deliciously fruity tea. Her smile still lingered as she stepped out into the rain again. Skye began speaking again the minute Lizzie left the café, but this time, Lizzie didn’t mind the naggin.
With the taste of cherries on her tongue, even Skye Parkin was becoming almost bearable.
#hphm#hogwarts mystery#quidditch#orion amari#merula snyde#skye parkin#lizzie jameson#rockstar au#rockstar prequel#before the spark
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Fun and Modded Games with 035, Or... Did You Just Caboose Me? So Wrong, Dude.
My first test with 035 aka Dyo. Just little ol me, the Possesive Mask, and a modded to hell copy of a quasipopular 4 v everyone zombie shooter. What can go wrong? Everything.
Well, it's time to meet the Possesive Mask, for a few "friendly" games. 035 walks in, and sees me setting up my gaming rig. If he could raise an eyebrow, he would have.
"What's going on? I was told I'd be testing. Didn't expect to test with 049's girl."
"Yeah... it's not really an official official test. And I thought since the Doctor is important to me, thought we should actually meet on less formal terms." I smile, extend a hand. "I'm Rabbit, nice to finally meet you, Dyo. Wanna blow up some boomers?"
"Boomers?"
"Big, nasty explody undead bastards. It'll be fun, I promise. And, since we're not being overly monitored, feel free to swear at the lumbering sacks of boom and acid."
I fire up the game, hand him an extra controller. And... break out laughing. My dumb ass forgot to switch off my mods. So, the shamblers are all Bernie Sanders, the spitters are dilophasaurs, the boomers are all the heavy from Team Fortress 2, and the witches... are the most demented version of Princess Peach ever seen. Hell, I still left my character mods on, meaning I'm stuck as a neon green Amongus and Dyo is... Caboose from Red vs Blue. Our weapons are modded, Dyo running with the BFG 1000 from Doom, I picked dual plasma cutters. Our online teammates are modded up too, 'Sarcasm&4Gauges' is ready to wreck shit as Lord Heisenberg from RE Village, and our last teammate is fucking Sailor Moon. Yes, Usagi is in the house. We get to it. After an initial learning curve, Dyo is on it. He took out Peach one shot. Massive legend. But... not without cost. My Amongus died, after Sailor Moon shot me in the back. Twice.
"Ayo, Sailor Moon? You Caboosed my ass. So wrong, my dude. Don't hate on your squaddie for being better as a rook than you, not our fault you suck with aiming."
"Kiss my disco medallion. Not my fault YOU were in my way."
Dyo pipes up. "Dr. Bright? Don't you have more rules to break before they're written? Teamkilling is almost as low as teabagging. Get your worthless ass back to Crystal Tokyo, heard Queen Beryl is on her bullshit again." Sarcasm&4Gauges loses it on the in-game chat.
"Damn, that was both thematic and cold as fuck, dawg. I can see why 049 chills with you. Savage."
"We do work well together, kind of a Beauty and the Beast deal. Of course, I'm the Beauty."
"Not in this chat, Dyo. Rabbit be fiiiiiine."
"And the Killer Rabbit is good with her honey. Back off her, Jack. Go perv on Rights again."
"Damn, Cleffy be dropping bodies without a shot. Thanks, Uncle Alto. Nice spot job on the herd of Bernies. Not into that kind of getting ate out."
We're back on our zombie slaying grind when... a wild tank appears, modded into a mini 682. Clef dies laughing on mic.
"Maybe I need to chill with the mods, the prospect of soloing a mini 682 brought out Clef's Scooby-Doo villain for real. Oh shit... Caboose dropped the BFG, Clef grab that big fucking gun and get nutty with it."
"Naw, Rabbit. I'm gonna Thor this punk ass. Time to drop the hammer." Clef runs up, the wind up is good... but mini 682 tail-yeets his ass into a wall. Dyo nods at me, and I drop a nice little surprise... a Juggernaught from COD. I toggle on theme music, Dyo pumps his BFG, and we see who kills the Unkillable Lizard first. Just as Dyo lobs the first volley, an Enderman pops up behind him, ready to drag him off. I shoot him with my cutters, Ender fall down, go immobile. Bright is back up... throwing his fucking tiara at 682. Who just laughs in 'what part of hard-to-fucking-KILL do you not get, bitch?' He drops like a bad habit after getting stomped. After several rounds of fire, multiple revives, and several death threats against Dr. Bright for friendly fire, the big scaly butt-ugly undead asshole dies.
"I don't even want to play this game anymore."
"Fine by us, Jack. You suck."
"Yeah, well at least I'm not cuddling up to 049."
"You. Did. Not. Just. Besmerch. The. Doctor's. Rabbit. If I get out of Containment, I am going to curbstomp both you and that tacky as hells medallion into the next reality. And not even 343 will save you. Be ready."
"Dyo, chill. Let me handle him. I have a plan."
"Please tell me you're going to freeze his mouth shut."
"Of course not. Why debase high magic for such low intellect?" I give Dyo an evil grin, and mute my mic. "First, I've arranged a nice Tinder date for him, and he won't even have to leave site. I know a young lady who would love having him over for dinner. Then, after dinner... how about a nice 963 under 60 meters of ice, floating in deep space? Far, far away from our galaxy."
"Rabbit, you're cold-blooded, evil, vindictive... and too bad 049 met you first. I'm honestly impressed."
"I learned at the sandaled feet of THE masters of dirty tactics, 076-2 and Clef. Let's just say I'm rolling the Mastermind perks up in here 24/7. After all, you gotta bring your A game to even match Abel. And Clef? Dude literally wrote the book on reality warpers, and I paid attention. After all, it's hard to learn much from the dead, let alone as one of them." I sense my new gaming buddy is a bit nervous. "Tell you what, you play a few rounds of Modern Warfare with me, we'll call it a non-aggession pact. Hey, maybe we can stomp Bright on and offline, heh?"
"Non-aggression pact? Meaning?"
"You don't kill me or 049 attempting to bail, I look the other way as much as I can. Maybe accidentally drop a few helpful items."
"I'll think about it."
"The pact, or the game?"
"The pact. I honestly like playing with you, you're in it to win via chaos. Very entertaining."
"Thanks, Dyo. You're pretty good yourself." I turn my mic back on. "So, gents... who's up for COD?" Clef opts in, but Bright backs out.
"You bailing, Bright? Can't handle playing unmodded?" Clef teases him.
"More like I can't deal with Rabbit. She's brutal, more so than Mongolian death metal, and she scares me."
"Can I train, or can I train? Not my fault you got no game, zero drip, and lo! No maidens."
"Why are you guys so mean to me?"
"Uh... my dude. You. Have. An. Over. 800. Item. List. Of. Things. You. Specifically. Are. Forbidden. To. Do. Do you really need us to tell you that alone got you disinvited from ALL official functions not directly related to your job? Plus, you have all the culture of garden soil 073 danced on."
"Ouch. That wounds me, 035."
"I have not yet begun to wound you, you backshooting idiot. Now, get off our server." Sonic rings, then a message: Admin Clef has booted G04tedwth963 from the server. "Thank you, Doctor Clef. You get dibs on my first care package should I die before getting it."
"The other team better pray to 343 it's not a gunship."
#scp foundation#tales from site redacted#agent rabbit#dr clef#dr bright#scp 035#game nights at site redacted are wild
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january rotation 🍎🎵
new year, new name: rotation flows better than music round up
the breaking hands by the gun club || a gorgeous song! yes, the lyrics make me sad, but I'm just slow dancing to the music all by myself. I only know a few of this band's songs but they sound so different, love the versatility!!
strange by galaxie 500 || this song makes me want to go (for a walk? a solo road trip?) with no particular direction
heartland by the sound || ^similar to above but this time I have a destination in mind and it's the best version of myself and I'm improving every day
new town by life without buildings || this makes me feel like I absolutely need to make changes in my life
caeser on a tv screen by the last dinner party || this chorus has a similar rhythm/flow to a part of a musical that I like to it's automatically on this list but on a realer note I'm excited for their debut
whom are you dancing for? by art fact || this is exactly the kind of dark(ish) synth music I like
all over the world by pixies || not really sure what this song is about but I like the contrast of the monotone vocals with the harsh guitar
the diamond sea - radio edit by sonic youth || this is exactly the kind of sonic youth music I like, they should do more of this and less of that guitar noise (they're just not good at that, sorry not sorry)
free by the martinis || I need to feel the wind through my hair. sidenote this is from the movie empire records, which I love and think everyone should see (it truly has a great soundtrack in addition to great plot and funny characters and being so personal to me)
#monthly music roundup#also while compiling this list I found out that Nick cave and Debbie Harry did a cover of the breaking hands#so go listen to that too because their voices are beautiful together
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"See, I like this. This is neat," Freija said.
"You realize you have to walk on this, right?"
The stiff yellow ribbons might have been moving in some stretched out timeline, or frozen in this one, but either way, the winding strips hung woven gracefully through the air amongst a warmly lit field of clouds and sky and floating polyhedrons.
"So? I do have an actual ranged gun, right cos I can see some of those pain in the ass sniper Taken with the shield. Marauders?"
"Maybe."
Polaris Lance appeared in Freija's hand and she lifted it to look. "Oh fantastic, thank you. Anyway, yes, I realize that. I don't care. It's pretty. And there's way more room for error correction than our usual adventures."
"You're about to try to sparrow this, aren't you."
"A little."
~
She didn't make the entire trip, but neither death on this part of the venture involved the sparrow.
Instead, Freija noticed someone on her radar and went to investigate. One time, she rounded a corner to find a Knight shielded by a goblin and swiftly received two holes in her chest. The second, she ran right into a room full of Taken to get shot a few times and then flung into a wall by shield explosions.
Both times, she returned and killed them back and in one case found some loot, so it wasn't all bad.
It was, however, a very long trip.
"You know you can stop, right?" Sunny offered again.
"Yep," Freija agreed as she sidestepped an incoming bolt and answered with her own, making the marauder bubble up and leave her alone for a bit. "I think I'm gonna get my crutches out, though, let's get a good look at my kit when we get somewhere enclosed. You thought about shaders?"
Sunny knew Freija could do it, so she couldn't say she didn't think she'd get the shell...
"I know you'll get me the shell... " she started, "but... I want you to stop. It's just a shell. You're hurt. You're tired. The damage is sticking to your armor in ways that Ada will need to look at. Your hands are shaking, look."
Freija didn't look. "It's here or the crucible, cos I'm getting medals from Eva."
"Crucible matches take ten minutes and you take breaks between them. It's not the same."
The Titan sidestepped and shot the marauder dead. "Fine, bad comparison, but I want to get the shell. I've worked too hard to get to this point, I'm not quitting now. I would still come back and try again later."
She picked off another one before it got the chance to shoot her. "I'm not gonna say I've peaked, but I am gonna say that I'm not gonna get better in ways meaningful here. The only way I'm going to get better here is practicing here. Bet I can make that jump."
Freija drew her sword and swung it as she took off, using the momentum to pull her forward and help her land on one of the hovering platforms. She continued merrily until she reached a ribbon good for walking on and finally a stretch for her sparrow.
Loreley's firmly on head, Xenophage in tow, and the trusted combination of her shotgun and grenade launcher, Freija ascended the "elevator" to 'mat into whatever cube this was. Toland wanted to play tag.
First Hall
First Hall 2
Centurion
Centurion 2
Infinity <-
Failure
Last stage
Victory
Hard time (med)
Something wrong (med)
Forced Healing (med)
Admiring (short)
Showing the Chatter Club (short)
Showing Caiatl (short)
Last one (short)
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“But what: but when he left and again, unafraid, and luminous eyes”
A cinquain sequence
1
But what:
but when he left
and again, unafraid,
and luminous eyes. And mine
eie remayne.
2
Shall see
whose body that
slain; thoughts had said, that same
frae my mammy yet. But the
fire within.
3
When I
longer envy
her. And days and more that
fondly part from the summits
of evil?
4
Bands. Said
Arac, and in
popped with rough, till the faint
desire within. They comfort
her vndonne.
5
Under
this round with the
inconvenience breaks the
loftly sway’st the third my life! And
will die.
6
And waile
shells, that, seeing
Two who did but deeds.
The world with the shores, that loue, dear
dead leaves.
7
Had, having
powre, in
lowliness! As the fierce! Nor
be time of weed livery, when
he took.
8
—Fling pranks,
and state of souerayne
beast, hail, grasse now endless
to Pall Mall. Castor has
more esteem.
9
And shew
them not the gate,
or in pearl spring scent
of the closed. No bigger that bring,
all right?
10
His gylden
quill: that my
should at last may craft that
fair dawn of life.—Robin shure in
case pure?
11
” He looke.
And rail, and there
are so much knows; yet to
get her ways, as looks red wine-
spilith that.
12
Of whom
at through white
Ohio town knowing, come
back safe ride with gore. Ignorant
than we.
13
And
invaded, lest
solitude. I never love:
but on a breadth of German, knew
a sleep?
14
The teeming
years before
me. To look on the rest
it out of thunder! Before
you aren’t.
15
Not thereof
let kind Syren!
To roll out of the
bloody hands. Petals besides such,
the fall!
16
You stand
henceforth a modern
wild red and spotlesse
they beholding beauty’s
use, politics.
17
And shells
or he was such
precede the body take
her face. That shee taper
silver bowlers.
18
Juan never
weep, soulful
still in a race. What tremble
th’ vtmost breathe
sufferer begin?
19
And told
me the purple-
pillow. Ye bearing was,
know thy forest, and ever
would deceit.
20
The Holy
Land. Inwardly
began on thee from
presence de Ligne washt from their guns
were cock’d.
21
And such
the rest in fill’d
on; and some of the light
to Arm Bears! And I’ll give a
loving lips.
22
Alligators,
sleave-silk
flies as we. The Moslem
orphan went realms? Th’
engraver sure!
23
He could
fondly fear. Wind
pent into thee. Delights
them to love swear I did lately
have year.
24
As Dian’s:
lo! For how worthy.
At his world’s wearie woes
appetite beyond the rose
againe vnreaue.
25
Of hemlock;
our device;
wrought thro’ the logic of
a treasured motion. Where is not
why,&c.
26
New angels,
saints, descried
in the running is special
animals? With what I saw
a faire.
27
And thirteen
that holy
Life, his happy letter
that ye were time she gave men, snare
of smoke?
28
Dawn in
wars eternall
blisse fit for raysed. What
doe them in some vasty deep,
never beene.
29
Which is
hath let me dy.
Somewhat longer than hands
beneath dark kept itself in space
and death.
30
The pit,
and higher summons
to keep was cajoled.
I stand amazement, for, like
Catherine’s bound.
31
Thou hast
but few beholding
was delicate
aquiline curve in vain tones I may
in bliss!
32
The sound!
Of lanterns, or
stedfastness and with gallant
institutes, and, carried up
to thee.
33
A
conquering! So weak
that hath before we to
her boon forth such the which gaze vpon
the wind.
34
With which
he had, a king,
whose name! Thy yoke, then to
sends to this, out of a Vice
Lord’s, striplings!
35
Let her
necklace as ours!
It cannot die a
meteor, and wandring hand grains
of Paris!
36
Her breath
once worse the fourth,
most cleared neither went. Three
times hand angles with now him
worthy tride.
37
Was Arac:
Arac’s arms.
For with longer timid
hear heaven they ne dare na show,
that toong?
38
I don’t
need nor wept. But
at twal’ at night honest,
open, see, that senses
unknown; unknown?
39
She dwell
with jealous dolphin
front door. Faire be ye
sort would have curses struck before
than I.
40
And then
all grow vaster
meeting you cause a little
peace. And when once was the
garden urn.
41
—There curls,
and all and flow.
Her I’d nothing marriage-
bed. To Endymion could see
but ah!
42
’ And then
disarmed by sweet:
shall not here as her! As
a byrd that window-ledge might know
it well.
43
Over
the vain, come highest
painted seed, O shining?
Perhaps the loved
the gloriously.
44
For her,
thoughts breathe. She spawns
warrior from its veil of
spear and adore! I will steal his
seed too!
45
Cold, base
of they would we
known them, messing the dwarfing
city. Need not yet, he should
I dare?
46
The gods
of flurrying is
idlers down. But the whispered
jest alabaster made;
and erasèd.
47
That loue;
and neuer taste
like the truth saue were nought
I may know your joys. Will
commands dying.
#poetry#automatically generated text#Patrick Mooney#Markov chains#Markov chain length: 6#183 texts#cinquain sequence
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