#Victory Junction Camp | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

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5 times Merlin does something that requires a considerable amount of strength;

+1 time the gang has time to actually bring it up.

Everyone is baffled, half distracted by Merlin’s surprising buffness and half amused by Arthur’s gay panic:

The clearing fills with the sounds of a brutal fight.

The Knights of Camelot, along with their King, had given up on trying to figure out how bandits always managed to find them in the woods. It seemed impossible for there to be so many mercenary groups that it was just coincidence for them to stumble upon each other so often, but equally, the knights moved quietly and always covered their tracks well, so... yeah, who knows.

The point is, they’re outnumbered three to one, and all of them were starting to regret not listening to Merlin’s earlier suggestion that they keep riding for another hour or so; their camp was destroyed and the fight was tiring them out.

Three to one weren’t bad odds, especially for knights with such a high level of skill, but it was exhausting and time consuming and they just wanted it to be over. Merlin was having similar thoughts as he stumbles through the middle of the crowd, trying to get out of the way. He was keeping an eye on them of course, but his friends were winning so his magical intervention wasn’t really needed; he was just annoyed that Arthur was almost certainly going to make him clear everything up afterwards.

His attention is suddenly caught when Percival’s voice rings out across the clearing:

“Merlin! Behind you!”

All of the knights’ gazes whip to the servant when they hear the giant’s yell, and they all abandon their own battles to step towards him despite knowing that they were too far away to be able to help in time. The servant takes in a sharp breath at Percival’s warning, becoming suddenly aware of a fast-moving presence behind him; he forms a fist and turns, swinging blindly with all his strength and following through even when his knuckles crunch with surprising accuracy against the temple of a bandit.

The man, not expecting the rapid attack, doesn’t have time to move out of the way, and his head jerks to the side, his entire body following as if an afterthought. He crumples to the floor gracelessly, unconscious before his head makes contact with the trampled undergrowth.

Merlin hisses at the pain bursting through his knuckles and up into his wrist, shaking his hand out as he steps over the bandit’s still form without even blinking, back to focusing on attempting to find a tree to sit behind and sulk, as if nothing had happened.

The knights only have a fraction of a second to freeze in shock before they’re dragged back to their own fights, forced to defend themselves lest they get skewered.

The battle only lasts a few more minutes; despite being outnumbered, the knights far outmatch the bandits in skill (and sufficient armour) and Merlin was correct in his assumption that they wouldn’t need any of his DIY luck, which is a good thing really, considering how much his hand is throbbing. He peeks his head around the tree when things go suspiciously quiet, getting up and making his way to the abandoned bag of medical supplies when he sees the knights victorious.

The servant runs a quick gaze over them, taking stock of any potential injuries as he makes his way through the clearing, injured hand clenched tightly and held to his chest. He may have knocked the bandit out, but that just meant that the punch was hard enough to do damage to his hand as well as the other guy’s head. When he finds nothing more than the odd bruise on the others, he grabs a roll of bandages for himself, quickly wrapping his hand almost painfully tight, before turning to Arthur with a scowl:

“I told you we were too close to the road, I told you we should’ve kept on going. But do you ever listen to me? No, because you’re-”

He’s cut off by The King stepping towards him and taking his bandaged hand, cradling it gently and looking to Merlin in concern:

“Merlin, are you alright?”

Merlin just rolls his eyes and huffs, snatching his hand back and retreating to check on the horses, thankfully tied and uninjured at the edge of the clearing:

“No, my hand fucking hurts, because, surprisingly enough, these idiots have skulls almost as thick as yours. We need to move camps, like I said earlier. Prat.”

Arthur frowns, looking down to Merlin’s unconscious bandit at his feet, and then glancing back to the other knights, who all just shrug with wide eyes. The King sighs, reluctantly nodding at Merlin’s assertion as he stares up at the darkening sky, deciding that Merlin must’ve... hit a pressure point or... something:

“Everyone pack up, I want to be moving on in three minutes.”

Merlin had foregone his jacket and rolled his sleeves up in the surprising Spring heatwave.

Which was a sight in itself.

But what really made the knights look twice (I mean... Arthur was just outright staring, but Leon had long since glared the others into not mentioning The King’s little... crush) was the way the supposedly wimpy servant had two sets of chainmail folded on one shoulder, his arm curled over them to keep them balanced, and a few odd bits of mismatched armour clutched in his other hand. He was making his way from the training field up to the castle, presumably to find an empty room to sit quietly and clean them.

Elyan waves at him across the field, the movement just about catching the servant’s gaze as he twists around, flashing a bright, sunny grin in place of waving back.

Arthur gulps, eyes drawn to the vein standing out from Merlin’s uncovered neck; apparently the heat had encouraged him to abandon his neckerchief as well. The King takes a deep breath, sending a scowl Merlin’s way to cover his... surprise, holding in a smirk when the servant just rolls his eyes and turns back to the castle.

His stride was strong, and though his arms were straining against the weight, he looked entirely unbothered, not even breathing deeply as he picks up his pace, jogging up the citadel steps.

Training had all but stopped at this point, the roundtable knights staring in confusion as Merlin carefully pulled the door open, making sure he wouldn’t drop anything, before nudging the door shut again with his hip. Gwaine was the first to break the silence, quirking one of his eyebrows up as he speaks in a slightly surprised tone:

“Didn’t know he had it in him. Wearing one set, when the weight is evenly distributed, is hard enough, let alone carrying two sets. And armour. Up steps. Huh.”

Arthur clears his throat, looking away with a slight blush as he asserts:

“Yes, well, knights carry the same weight in armour and weapons everyday, if not more. If you’re that impressed Sir Gwaine, perhaps you should work on your strength.”

Gwaine turns to him with a smirk, but Leon’s warning glare stops him from teasing, or saying anything else that could be considered treasonous. Instead, he rolls his eyes at the first knight before humming non-committedly and pointing his sword at The King:

“That, Princess, sounds like a challenge.”

Arthur, blush forgotten, looks up with raised eyebrows and a chuckle, noting with satisfaction the way the other knights spread out to form a circle around the two of them, swords lowered and expectant looks on their faces:

“Does it now? I suppose you’ll have to take me up on it then, won’t you?”

The knights were on some stupid (in Merlin’s opinion) quest.

The group was currently making their way through a complicated cave system. They had maps, thankfully, but they were old, and provided by a small village of locals who hadn’t spoken common very well.

They’d had to trade away half of their supplies in return for the maps, so Arthur was already in a foul mood, but a dotted line on the page across the path they were following was worrying him. The note written next to it was in some old, almost lost native language, so The King had just resigned himself to carrying on and hoping for the best.

Which is why he let out a series of echoing curse words when they turned a corner to find a ragged overhang, about eight feet above the path. The wall curved in on itself before jutting out again at the top, making it impossible to climb, even without armour and swords and packs.

Elyan is the first to break the tense silence after Arthur’s outburst, his tone half amused, half annoyed, as he mutters:

“That’ll be why the locals kept pointing at that ladder then.”

Arthur huffs, glaring at the knight with a rare venom, but Leon gestures to the map in his hand before he can retort:

“We can always go back, or is there another way around?”

Arthur huffs louder, letting out a short growl as he thrusts the maps to Leon’s chest and paces closer to the overhang:

“Feel free, if you can find an alternative route, please, enlighten me. The village is a day’s journey away, we don’t have time to go back.”

Leon covers his annoyance at Arthur’s harshness well, but Merlin scowls at The King openly before moving to stand at the junction between the wall of the corridor, and the overhang in front of them:

“Don’t be an arse, Arthur, it’s not Leon’s fault that none of us can understand Old... whatever it was. And it’s not that high, just-”

With that, Merlin braces his foot against the wall, bending his knees slightly before pushing off and jumping up, reaching out and grabbing the overhang, his feet dangling off the ground. The knights stare in shock, but before they can say anything, Merlin swings his feet forwards, and backwards, and forwards again. When they swing back for the second time, he uses the momentum to pull himself up, his arms locking out straight beneath him as he lifts his knees up, crawling over the edge and onto the floor above them.

Arthur blinks, looking from the floor, to the wall, and up to Merlin again, trying to figure out how the hell his manservant had enough strength in his arms and core to pull himself up; he hadn’t even taken his pack off.

Lancelot clears his throat, tilting his head and frowning as he slowly speaks:

“That was... impressive. But we’re wearing armour, Merlin, I don’t think we’ll be able to manage that with all the extra weight.”

No one mentions that they don’t think they could do it even without armour.

Merlin just rolls his eyes and sits on the edge, his feet dangling below him as he gestures vaguely:

“Well if you just get your hands on the ledge then I can pull you up. Take your packs off and throw them up first if you’re so worried, you can give each other a hand up, and Percival can go last because of how tall he is. Come on, it wasn’t that hard.”

Lancelot shrugs, taking his pack off and throwing it up with all his might. Merlin leans out, catching it with ease and chucking it behind him as he motions Percival to interlock his hands. The knight does so, allowing Lancelot to step on them and throw himself up, just about managing to catch the ledge and groaning at the strain in his arms. Merlin brings his feet back over the overhang, bracing his heels against the stone as he reaches down, gripping Lancelot’s wrists and hauling him up and over the edge.

Lance yelps as Merlin yanks him up, rolling onto his back and panting at the ceiling as he blinks in surprise. Merlin doesn’t pay him any attention, frowning down at the others and gesturing at them to hurry:

“Come on, I thought we were in a rush?”

With that, they all huddle below, taking turns to be thrown up and hauled over the edge. Merlin drags Elyan up on his own, Lance still recovering from his slight shock, but the more people gather at the top, the less work Merlin has to do. Which is good, because he may be strong, but he’s not sure he could manage Percival on his own. The giant has to take a running leap at the ledge, and it takes four of them to pull him up without dislocating any shoulders or throwing out any backs.

When they’re all successfully at the top, Merlin wordlessly picks his pack up, shrugging it onto his shoulders as he begins a quick pace along the corridor as if he hadn’t a care in the world; the knights break out of their stupors and jog to catch up, knowing that Merlin was right and they needed to hurry.

Arthur was glaring resolutely at the floor, trying to psych himself up to confront whatever arsehole had managed to get the drop on him and his six best knights. The others were arguing in whispers around him, trying to figure out some way to escape the dungeon unscathed, though The King kept silent, knowing that the only way out was if someone unlocked these infernal chains first.

They’d only been there for around an hour, so no one from Camelot would have realised they were missing yet; their only hope was that Merlin was making his way back to the city to get help. He’d been off gathering firewood, and he’d already been gone half a candle mark when they’d been ambushed; Arthur would never admit it, but he had faith that Merlin would be able to sort everything out.

The King harshly shushes the knights as he hears the guards begin to yell, but frowns in confusion when he hears “They’re going crazy up there!” and “What the fuck?!” before the unmistakable sound of armoured boots running up the stairs and away from the dungeons reaches them.

The knights all look to each other in confusion, straining against their chains to try and see through the small barred window at the top of the door. A shadow passes through the square of light on the floor, and they all shuffle back against the wall, staying silent. None of them manage to hold in their surprised yelps however, when the door suddenly bursts in, the wood around the lock splintering violently and spreading shards across the dungeon floor.

A strong arm extends out, stopping the now broken beyond repair door from swinging shut again, and the knights look up, taking in sharp gasps when they see Merlin stood there, scowling disapprovingly with a ring of keys in his other hand and one foot in front of the other, as if he had... as if he had kicked the door. Leon is the first to break the silence:

“Merlin?? What are you doing here?”

Merlin’s scowl deepens as he glances down the corridor before stepping into the dungeon, sorting through the keys to try and figure out which one would open which set of chains:

“Well I’m rescuing you lot, obviously. I leave camp for barely a candle-mark and you get yourselves kidnapped. Honestly, how hard is it to not find trouble, for once?”

Arthur is too busy staring at Merlin’s apparently muscled legs to say anything, even when Elyan clears his throat and kicks him, so Percival is the next to speak as Merlin unlocks his chains:

“Why not just... unlock the door?”

Merlin doesn’t look at the largest of the knights as he moves on to the others, unchaining them one by one as he responds, his scowl still firmly in place:

“The key was on a separate ring and I only had time to grab one, figured the door would be easier to break than the chains.”

Arthur finally blinks and shakes his head free of.... distracting, thoughts as Merlin finally turns to him, holding his hands out to be unchained as he clears his throat and says strongly, forcing the waiver from his voice:

“How did you distract the guards?”

Merlin finally smiles at that, standing and reaching into his pocket to pull out a lumpy looking bit of plant:

“Snuck in and pretended to be one of their slaves, laced all the jugs with mandrake root. They’re all going loopy with hallucinations upstairs, a few of them vomited and I think one guy might have shit himself. The guards went to see what was wrong, so we don’t have much time, come on.”

Arthur nods impressed, and was the last of the group to sneak from the dungeon, pausing briefly to run a hand over the splintered wood and warped metal of the kicked-in door, before shaking his head and following the others out of the not-quite-abandoned fort.

It had been almost a year since Merlin had last seen his mother, so when the servant requested two weeks off to visit home, wanting to help the village out with repairs before the winter set in, Arthur agreed immediately, on the condition that he and a couple of the knights could tag along.

Merlin reluctantly gave in, but only after insisting that he wouldn’t be Arthur’s servant, and whoever came would have to dig in and help out. To be honest, Arthur was mentally exhausted after months of work on repealing the magic ban, so Merlin was silently grateful that he was coming; The King needed a break, and Merlin knew how secretly fond the man was of Merlin’s mother, and her simple country life.

In the end, Leon and Mordred were the only ones who could come; Lancelot and Elyan were left in charge of patrols, Percival and Gwaine were left in charge of training, and Guinevere, Gaius, and Morgana were left to oversee the council and the general running of the Kingdom. Arthur wasn’t worried to be honest, they were only going to be gone for two weeks, and if disaster set in they were only a two day’s ride away at most.

It was chilly, the winter was setting in early so Merlin and Hunith were eager for work to start as soon as possible. There were numerous leaks and fences to fix, and one of the village’s barns needed clearing out so it could filled with grain over the snowy season.

That, and as much firewood needed to be collected as possible so they could stockpile. They normally barely had enough to last them through the winter; Arthur had nodded in approval when Merlin had meekly asked if they could take a cart of wood with them from Camelot, but they still had a lot to gather.

It was the afternoon of their first day, Leon had been sent to a neighbour’s to fix a roof, Merlin was doing something outside, and Mordred was just about to head over to one of the livestock pastures to strengthen a few of the fences. Hunith was preparing the evening’s meal and Arthur stood politely in the doorway as he spoke:

“Merlin said that firewood had to be gathered? I can get started on that if you can point me in the right direction.”

Hunith smiles over her shoulder briefly, and Arthur ignores the warm fuzziness in his stomach at the sight as she speaks:

“Oh don’t worry about that, we’ve only one axe in the village and Merlin is out by the barn chopping wood now. I know there’s a leak somewhere in the basement of the village hall, a few of the boys are already down there if you’re looking for something to do?”

Arthur raises his eyebrow at Hunith’s insistence that Merlin, his lanky manservant, was outside with an axe chopping wood, and he glances at Mordred over his shoulder, who just shrugs, nodding to Hunith’s turned back. The King responds quietly, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice:

“Hmm. I’ll go check in with Merlin and then head down to the hall, if he doesn’t need help.”

Hunith hums in agreement, but otherwise doesn’t reply, mumbling under her breath about herbs and measurements as she stirs something into the pot. Arthur smirks at Mordred and the two of them head out, neither mentioning how Mordred was following Arthur to find Merlin instead of getting to the fences.

They walk in silence, though they both freeze on the spot when they turn a corner to see Merlin, once again with his sleeves rolled up, hefting around a huge lump of wood, a ginormous axe resting on his shoulder. He gets the wood where he wants it, stepping back and wiping his forearm across his sweaty forehead before lifting the axe and swinging it down again. The stump splits easily beneath the sharpened metal, and Merlin wastes no time in repositioning the new pieces of wood, ready to be chopped again.

Arthur doesn’t even realise his mouth is hanging open until Mordred looks at him and smirks, biting his lip before giving in and snorting quietly:

“You’re the colour of our capes, Sire, and you might want to shut your mouth. Don’t want to catch flies, do you?”

Arthur’s jaw snaps shut with a clack, and he frowns as his teeth begin to ache. Mordred chuckles slightly and though Arthur is grateful that the young knight is finally comfortable enough to joke around with him, he desperately wishes he wasn’t at Gwaine’s level of comfort.

Instead of retorting, Arthur just clears his throat and turns around, striding towards the village hall:

“It appears he’s got things handled. Those fences won’t fix themselves, Sir Mordred.”

Mordred only just manages to hold in his giggle, looking up to see Merlin staring confusedly at him and Arthur’s rapidly retreating back. He waves briefly, sending a quick “I’ll tell you later.” over their mental link before turning himself and heading in the direction of the pastures.

He knows full well that he has no intention of telling Merlin about Arthur’s crush; watching them tiptoe around each other was the funniest thing ever, and he didn’t want to ruin the bet that Gwaine had going.

+1)

The fight was vicious, more so than any of the skirmishes the knights had dealt with in the last several months.

They were vastly outnumbered, and the addition of four powerful sorcerers to the enemy ranks meant that Merlin and Mordred were quickly running out of energy, having to focus on both the magical aspect of the fight, and trying to keep everyone else alive.

The metallic scent of blood was almost overwhelming, and the constant clang of metal on metal mixed with the whooshing echoes of sorcerous fire and vines was deafening. The fight went on a lot longer than Merlin had thought it would; the enemy was clearly more skilled than predicted, but the Camelot knights did prevail eventually, Percival ending the fight with the smooth slice of his blade across the last mercenary’s throat.

Merlin wastes no time in running his gaze over the knights, giving special attention to Arthur as he searches for any injuries that need seeing to immediately. The last of the sorcerers had managed to escape, so they needed to get out of there as soon as possible: there’s no way they’d survive a second attack if he came back with reinforcements.

Merlin was relieved to see nothing too serious; Lancelot had a gash on his temple that would need a thorough cleaning and a few stitches, and Gwaine was holding his wrist to his chest in a way that told Merlin it was likely broken, but everyone was on their feet and no one was crying. That’s a good start.

Merlin relaxes, but his shoulders quickly tense again as Mordred’s voice echoes weakly through his head:

“Emrys... I’m... I’m tired...”

Merlin whips around quickly, his eyes wide and panicked as his frantic gaze lands on the young knight. He’s leaning against a tree, his eyes hooded and focused on the floor. Merlin leaps towards him, catching him just before his head lands harshly on a boulder, and pulling the collapsed younger man into a more comfortable position as Arthur rushes over:

“What’s wrong with him? I don’t see any blood, was he hit with magic?”

Merlin waves him off, checking Mordred’s pulse and breathing before he relaxes again, sending a tired, but relieved smile up to The King:

“He’s fine, just exhausted. This is the first time he’s used this much magic in years, he’ll need a little while to recover his strength, but we need to get out of here in case they come back.”

Arthur lets out a relieved sigh and nods, leaning down to take one of Mordred’s arms and waving Gwaine over to pick his legs up, but before either of them get even close, Merlin stands up, dragging Mordred with him and settling the armoured knight across his shoulders. He looks to Arthur next to him, not seeming to notice The King’s shock as he quickly says:

“I know you’re The King and all, but would you mind carrying my bag?”

Arthur nods dumbly, picking up Merlin’s dropped medical bag without taking his gaze off the Warlock, who wanders around double checking that the other knights were ok and that all the bandits were dead as if he didn’t have about 240 pounds of man and armour dangling from his shoulders.

Leon catches Arthur’s eye, nodding pointedly towards the path they needed to take, trying to pull Arthur back into the present before the others notice him gawping. Arthur gulps, blushing as he nods his thanks and moves away from the battlefield, Merlin’s bag secured on his shoulders as he confidently speaks:

“Merlin’s right, we need to get as far away from here as we can. I saw a cave about two hours’ back North, we can make camp there before heading back to Camelot in the morning. Gather as much as you can carry, we’ve no hope of finding the horses before nightfall, hopefully they can make their own way home.”

The knights all nod, following Arthur’s lead as he steps carefully through the underbrush, trying not leave any obvious pointers to their direction. He keeps his gaze resolutely ahead as he hears Percival ask:

“You alright, Merlin? Sure you don’t want a hand?”

Despite keeping his gaze stubbornly forward, Arthur strains his ears to hear Merlin’s response, refusing to acknowledge the sudden weakness in his knees at what the Warlock replies with:

“Nah, it’s fine, he’s not that heavy.”

Leon subtly sidles up to walk next to The King, glancing behind him before leaning in close, talking quietly as they moved:

“Perhaps you should... let him know of you affections, Sire?”

Arthur’s blushing gaze quickly finds the older knight’s before he looks away again:

“I don’t know what you think you’re implying, Sir Leon.”

Leon just raises his eyebrow in an unusual display of amused defiance:

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Arthur. He’s been by your side for ten years, you’ve been through the unspeakable, both with each other and for each other. That, and he has a surprisingly... admirable physique.-”

Arthur’s blush deepens and he clears his throat, crossing his arms petulantly and staring resolutely ahead. Leon puts a hand on The young King’s shoulder as he continues:

“-You’re...-”

The knight sighs and bites his lip again, debating with himself over whether he should say it or not:

“-you’re head over heels for him, Sire, perhaps it’s time to do something about it? Gods know he feels the same, and the Gods also know that he’ll never make the first move. He’s still... nervous, about messing things up, I think. His-”

Leon glances over his shoulder again to make sure no one could hear him before dropping his voice to a whisper:

“-his magic being outed put him... on edge, even after all these months. He won’t do anything that he think could push you away or anger you.”

Arthur sighs and nods, before turning to him slowly with an embarrassed scowl on his face; he doesn’t shrug off Leon’s hand, which the knight takes as a good sign:

“Not a word to anyone, Leon, I swear to the Gods.”

Leon holds his hand up and uses his other to wave a cross over his heart:

“I swear, Sire. Though I feel the need to tell you that... at least three of the other servants, and I do believe Lady Bronwyn and Sir Galahad, also have... uh... their eyes on him, as it were.”

Arthur’s scowl gets impossibly deeper as he huffs, muttering to himself:

“They do, do they? Well, we’ll see about that.”

Leon just smirks again and rolls his eyes fondly before falling back to walk with Elyan.

They finally make it back to the cave, though it took them even longer without horses. Merlin had requested they stop around a candle mark in so he could remove some of the heavier bits of Mordred’s armour, passing them off to the other knights, but he had once again rejected any offers of help, saying that he was slowly siphoning his own magic into Mordred so he would wake sooner. Apparently they needed to be touching for that to happen, and though Merlin had been teaching them, none of them had enough knowledge on magic to know whether that was true or not, but they did know that Merlin was incredibly protective of the young Druid, so they let it be.

A fire was lit quickly and supplies were laid out. A map had been saved, thankfully, so they could figure out roughly where they were and how long it would take them to get back home as Merlin quickly treated Lance’s gash and Gwaine’s wrist.

Mordred begins to stir just as Percival serves up food, groaning slightly and rubbing at his eyes before struggling to sit himself up. Merlin had rushed to his side as soon as he felt the Druid begin to wake, and helps prop him up against the cave wall, handing him a water-skin as he stares at him with concern. Mordred takes a long drink, nodding his thanks and clearing his throat before speaking, his voice gravelly and slow:

“This... this is the cave we passed a few hours ago...”

His voice trails off, and Arthur answers the question in his tone:

“Hmm. We had no horses, so we were never going to make it back to the city, but we couldn’t stay where we were.”

Mordred nods, yawning widely and rubbing his eyes again as he asks:

“How did you get me this far without horses?”

Arthur clenches his jaw, blushing slightly as he looks away, but thankfully Gwaine butts in, answering with a grin on his face before anyone notices The King’s flush:

“Merlin here is stronger than he looks. Carried you the whole way, didn’t use magic or anything.”

Mordred turns his incredulous gaze to Merlin and he just shrugs absentmindedly:

“You don’t weigh that much, it was fairly easy.”

Elyan laughs and shakes his head, joining in on the conversation quickly:

“Are you kidding me? I mean... sure, I could’ve carried him for maybe an hour, if I was at full strength and it was easy terrain. You carried him for three, only took his armour off in the second hour, down what could barely be classified as a path, in a barely tamed forest, after a pretty hefty fight. That’s... impressive.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow, looking around the room in bafflement as he realises that everyone is staring at him with varying levels of impressed confusion:

“You guys... you guys know that I grew up in the country, right? I spent my childhood climbing trees and running away from predators, and my teenage years chopping wood, building things with barely any help, and fighting the odd bear. I then arrive in Camelot, only to immediately be given a job that involves carrying a shit ton of heavy stuff, including, but not limited to: armour, luggage, hunting equipment, and the occasional unconscious idiot.”

Arthur sits up straight and scowls slightly when Merlin gestures to him instead of Mordred:

“You have never had to carry me anywhere.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow, gaze sinking to the floor as he smirks and coughs out something that sounds suspiciously like “Sophia”.

Arthur’s blush deepens and he jabs an accusing finger in Merlin’s direction:

“That. Didn’t. Happen.”

Merlin bites his lip to stop himself from laughing, but his dimples still show through despite his best effort and he holds his hands up in surrender:

“Whatever you say, Sire.”

Arthur just clenches his jaw and sits back against the wall with eyes focused on his food and cheeks red, stubbornly ignoring the knights’ curious stares as everyone eats their food. Merlin fusses over Mordred for a few more minutes but is quickly waved away by the younger man; the Warlock huffs and rolls his eyes, but gives in to the fact that Mordred did not need, nor want, to be babied. He moves subtly around the cave to sit down next to Arthur, barely a foot of air between them despite the abundance of space elsewhere.

Arthur forces his blush down at Merlin’s proximity, refusing to think of anything but his food and the difficult journey home, desperately keeping his gaze on his meal instead of Merlin’s strong legs stretched out next to him.

The King doesn’t acknowledge him, but doesn’t move away either, which Merlin takes as a good sign as he settles in, wrapping himself in a blanket to protect his body from the impending cold.

The other knights have long since finished their meals, scarping the lot in a matter of seconds in an attempt to gain back a little energy after the hours of riding and fighting and walking; they quickly settle into the blankets and cloaks and bedrolls they had managed to carry, though Leon seems to deliberately move slower, waiting for Arthur to glance up at him so he can give a pointed look to Merlin, just finishing his food, before laying down and attempting to sleep.

Arthur blushes with wide eyes, but Leon turns around before he has time to glare at him, and The King huffs quietly, risking a glance to a shivering Merlin next to him. He quickly frowns, not moving his gaze away like he had intended to, instead whispering softly:

“Cold? Can’t you use magic to warm up?”

Merlin looks to him tiredly, leaning his head back against the wall as his eyelids droop slightly:

“Hmm. I gave most of my reserves to Mordred, he was worse off than I first thought so he needed a lot more magic than I realised to keep him alive long enough for his energy to build up again.-”

Arthur widens his eyes at the fact that he was so close to losing one of his knights, but then shakes his head, huffing as he glares at the Warlock disapprovingly, but Merlin closes his eyes and continues before he can get told off:

“-I’ll be fine by morning, I just need-”

He’s interrupted when his body is wracked by a particularly strong shiver:

“-I just need some sleep.”

Arthur rolls his eyes, shuffling into a more comfortable position before opening his arms, spreading his cloak wide as if they were a pair of majestic wings:

“Come here, you idiot. I can’t have you freezing to death because you refuse to look after yourself.”

In normal circumstance Merlin would’ve argued, but he really was cold, so when he cracks his eyes open to see Arthur ready and waiting, he doesn’t hesitate to crawl hurriedly over. Arthur ignores the flush rising on his cheeks as Merlin clambers over one of his legs, settling between them and shoving his head under the blonde’s chin; he wraps his cloak around the two of them and rubs his cheek into the Warlock’s soft hair.

He can feel Merlin grin against his collarbone, and it’s enough to distract him from the surprising, but not unwelcome, weight of Merlin’s muscled form against his chest:

“You know, Arthur, if you wanted to feel up my muscles so badly you just had to ask. You stare far too often to think you’re subtle.”

Arthur’s flush deepens and his body goes rigid as Merlin giggles. He clenches his jaw and lands a punch, far softer than he would normally go for, on the other man’s shoulder, but that just makes him giggle harder, and Arthur has to hush him in fear of waking the others. Merlin looks up at him through thick eyelashes, blinking tiredly with a satisfied smile on his face:

“Just let me know if you ever want carrying around, I’m more than happy to help.”

Arthur gulps, refusing to make eye contact as he stares resolutely at the opposite wall and not acknowledging the red hue of his cheeks:

“When we get back to Camelot, I’m hanging you for treason.”

Merlin snorts quietly, re-burying his face in Arthur’s chest and curling up tightly in his lap to stave off the cold:

“Whatever you say, Sire.”

Arthur gives in, smiling slightly and rolling his eyes as he tightens his hold on the other man. He lets his cheek fall back to rest on his soft hair as he closes his eyes, allowing his exhaustion to take over and descending into an easy sleep.

THE END!!

We stan Arthur gay panicking and all the knights (bar Leon of course, who handles it as tactically as he’s able) ruthlessly taking the piss :D

I hope y’all enjoyed reading this, I certainly enjoyed writing it! Thank you anon, I loved writing this!!!

Same as always, someone wants to write it up in full, go for it!! Drop me a message and credit/tag me :)

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pokeasleepingsmaug · 4 years

Text

To Curse A King

Back on my bullshit again, so here’s a Sihtric x Skade crackship.

Summary: Skade wants to secure the Danish victory the only way she knows how, and there’s only one man in the Danish camp who claims to have knowledge of curses. Set when Sihtric has pretended to betray Uhtred and is in the Danish camp.

Trigger Warnings: Blood, knife play, smut

Tagging: @whenimaunicorn @aadmelioraa @itslaurenmae

AO3, if you prefer.

Skade does not flinch as the knife pierces the skin at the crook of her elbow, and she does not struggle against the firm hand holding her wrist in place. She has cut herself so many times in the working of her magic, it does not even bother her when someone else holds the knife.

The knife drags from elbow to wrist, the cut long but shallow, blood welling in a slow trickle, and Skade has always thought the brightness of blood is beautiful against her pale skin. A twisted thought, perhaps, but why else would the gods call her to such a life, if not to revel in that which gives her power?

She meets the eyes of her unwilling assistant, the only man among this whole company of useless Danes who claims to have any knowledge of curses. He is probably not the only one, in truth, but the only one who is not afraid to be called unmanly. He has proven herself time and again on the battlefield; any who dare to call him such will meet a swift end within a square of hazel rods. He told her he threw a curse once, met her eyes steady and calm when he said it, not a hint of remorse, and Brida laughed.

Skade believes him. It is her business to know things; and rumors fly around this camp. Hasten knows even more than Skade herself, and he can't keep a secret when he's in his cups. Sihtric may call himself Elflaedsson, and his father may have been killed long before Skade sailed to this doomed island, but she knows who it is that whelped Sihtric on a Saxon slave-girl.

She is not surprised that Sihtric once threw a curse, and she has a fair guess about his target. He is ideal for this spellwork, anyway. Dane and Saxon in one body, one eye blue and the other brown, the perfect melding of light and dark.

Sihtric stabs the knife into the cold ground, burying it to the hilt, before he grabs Skade’s bare arm and swipes his pointer finger through the blood. He touches each of her eyelids, his fingertip light as a butterfly, before his hand darts to her lips and paints them, too.

Skade slides the knife from the sheath at her waist and cuts Sihtric's arm from wrist to elbow in one deliberate stroke, an equal and opposite wound to her own. She stabs it viciously into the ground beside his, drags her finger through his blood, and touches his eyelids and lips.

Finally she takes their arms and presses the wounds together to mix their blood, the first of their two joinings under tonight's new moon: the time when secrets come to life, when clandestine affairs are revealed, when the darkest impulses of man and nature hold sway.

A perfect night to curse a king.

Sihtric shivers when she pulls his shirt over his head, but he’s still as stone when she draws the runes on him: algiz, for protection, right over his heart, because this is a spell that can so easily go awry. Naunuz, for distress, low on his belly. It is no secret that Alfred has troubles there.

Skade grabs the wooden bowl that waits by the fire, bitter herbs and crushed mushrooms steeping in water boiled before Sihtric cut her arm. It should be at full strength by now.

Skade gulps half the bitter liquid down. Sihtric takes the bowl from her hands, and his eyes, grim and unreadable, meet hers over the rim as he tips it to drink. His throat bobs in long swallows. He shakes his head, as if to rid himself of the taste, and tosses the bowl into the fire.

The flames jump higher as they lap up the dregs of the potion. Skade should be annoyed that he tossed her best bowl into the fire; instead, she is only transfixed by the dancing of the flames as the magic begins to move in her. She takes off her own dress as Sihtric unties his trousers. The night air is cold and comforting against her flushed skin, raising goosebumps on her arms when a light breeze hits her.

She rubs her hands over her arms and finally looks over at Sihtric, sitting cross-legged a few feet away from her. His clothes are neatly folded by the fire, she notes with faint amusement. This will not be a joining of tenderness, but that doesn’t mean she can’t enjoy it, anyway. Her cool gaze sweeps him over, admiring the planes of his face in the firelight, the play of silver scars over his sword-Dane’s body. He is a man without an inch of softness on him, all hard muscle and sharp angles. He may be the most beautiful man she has ever had.

Skade starts toward him. Her hand lands on his shoulder, and she’s shocked by the warmth of him. The magic always does that, makes her surprised by the smallest physical sensations, brings a more intense awareness to every feeling. She revels in it and fears it: the way it makes her powerful and vulnerable all at once. Every blessing must come with its own curse, she muses.

For all that Sihtric is a warrior, for all that he will be the vessel for her curse to pass to Alfred--for all that it will hurt for the brief time the curse is within him--she does not think that he will take advantage of her in this vulnerable state.

He wraps his arms around her waist as he falls to the ground, and Skade is shocked when his lips press gently against hers. “It will hurt,” she reminds him softly, almost feeling guilty, but his momentary suffering will be nothing in the face of Danish victory. The death of Alfred will all but secure it; it is his iron will and cunning mind that have kept them at bay.

“I do not fear pain,” Sihtric assures her, his breath warm and sweet against her lips. His hands are curious and soft as they wander over her, exploring the heft of her breasts and the curve of her waist before sliding to the junction between her thighs. She knows this is not a joining of affection for him, either, but still she appreciates the consideration he shows to make sure she is prepared.

He flicks a deft finger over the nub at her apex, and Skade allows herself to tangle her fingers in his soft hair, to trace the tattooed snakes curving over his ears, to enjoy the hitch of his breath as her fingertips skim down his neck. She wraps a hand around his thick shaft. His skin is delicate as petals beneath her palm. She strokes him slowly, her mouth dropping open as she savors the feel of him in her hand.

His finger moves back to explore her slit. She’s already wet after his expert work on her clit, and he slips a finger into her to judge just how ready she is. He curls it unexpectedly, hitting a spot that makes her gasp against his lips, and she can feel his smile. His hands settle firmly on her hips, guiding her. Skade lines her opening up with his head and slides onto him as slowly as she can bear. She dreads the moment when he’ll fill her completely, when the curse will enter into his body. Finally, after what feels like an eternity but is only seconds, she’s taken every bit of him.

Sihtric gasps and writhes beneath her; a lesser man would scream. Skade can see his pain in the way he tears into his own lips with his teeth, can feel it in the fingers bruising her hips. “Hurry,” he rasps, and Skade is compelled to obey. She rides him hard, her hands pressing his shoulders into the ground as he tries to curl into himself. She hates to deny him that, his body instinctively seeking relief from the agonies of her curse.

She leans down to kiss him, tasting blood on his lips, and he twists his fingers into her long hair and anchors her mouth to his. He kisses her like a man desperate to feel something, and Skade is glad to give him what little distraction she can offer. She guides one of his hands from her hip to her breast, kisses him with as much sweetness as she can muster. It doesn’t feel like enough as he shudders beneath her, each breath a gasping groan.

Skade redoubles her efforts, feels herself start to clench around him. She’s just on the edge of coming when he suddenly throws her off and lunges to all fours. He wraps one hand around his cock and strokes himself quickly, once, twice, and then spurts his seed onto the ground. He freezes when he’s finished, trembling and panting, and fear cuts through the magic, cuts through her arousal, heavy and sick.

“Sihtric?” Her voice seems to shock him into awareness, and he raises his gaze to her with a nod.

“The pain is gone.” He sounds giddy with relief, and he loops an arm around her waist and pulls her close. His skin is clammy despite the night’s chill, and sweat plasters his hair to his cheeks. He presses a slow kiss to her bare shoulder.

“Good thing you remembered to come onto the ground. For all that he’s a Christian king, he’s still bound to the land. The curse will go to him through the ground,” Skade says. She told him this earlier, but this is the closest she can come to telling him that he’s done well. She does not have that kindness in her.

“The next time you need help with curses, ask someone else,” Sihtric breathes against her skin.

“I thought you did not fear pain?” Skade asks, brows rising, gently teasing. She strokes his hair back, allows herself a small moment of tenderness to kiss his temple.

“I fear curses,” Sihtric corrects. He looks at her with wide eyes luminous in the firelight, and he is utterly tender as he guides her to lay back on the ground. “And the women who throw them.”

But that fear does not stop him from kissing her slowly, from covering her body with his, from keeping her in dark woods until their fire is little more than embers.

#the last kingdom #the last kingdom fic #let's be danes ⚔️#let's be danes #sihtric #sihtric elflaedsson #skade #sihtric x skade #the last kingdom fanfic #sihtric fic #skade fic

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echoes-of-the-clockwork · 3 years

Text

Book One: Gold (Prompto x Reader) Chapter X

Making their way up the Rock of Ravatogh, the royal retinue and the guardian prepared themselves for the long trek ahead of them. As they proceeded up the rocky, jagged path, Gladio spoke up. "Just think about what's waiting at the top."

"Lemme guess: one aching back and two very sore feet," Prompto sarcastically replied.

"Like you couldn't use some meat on those legs of yours," the shield scoffed.

"They work for me."

"But what about the lady?"

Being the closest person to Prompto and the only girl in the group, (Y/n) knew the brute was referring to her. "...Excuse me?"

"You like muscle or chicken legs?" Gladio asked.

"I don't hate nor like either. Besides, I love Prompto the way he is."

"In your face, big guy!" The marksman cackled victoriously. "My lady isn't shallow and doesn't judge a book by its cover."

The spirit groaned at their childish behavior and continued to follow Noctis up the Rock of Ravatogh. They encountered some saphyrtails, which they easily disposed of. They proceeded up the path made of hardened molten lava where they eventually stumbled upon diverging paths. What caught their attention was how vast the area opened up and the horde of spiracorns and saphyrtails fighting against each other.

(Y/n) watched for a few seconds as the creatures fought one another and failed to notice their presence. When they all gathered together to attack each other again, she conjured a large fireball and tossed it at the creatures. Not only did she set them ablaze, she caused their corpses to turn to ash. She winced when seeing her spell was a little too powerful. "I may have gone a little overboard with that..."

"A little?" Gladio chuckled. "You turned them into ash."

"Well, you did say your magic was more powerful in hot environments," Prompto said.

Noctis glanced at the guardian. "Thought you didn't want us to "miss all the fun"."

"That one was a freebie because they were already injuring one another. I just sped up the process," (Y/n) retorted. "Anyway, pick a path. Let's find this cave and royal arm as quick as we can. You four already look exhausted."

Noctis glanced down both of the paths before deciding to go up the right one. Luckily, he picked the correct way and avoided another battle down a pathway that led to a dead end.

Continuing up, the pathway was getting steeper. They all could feel the muscles in their legs aching at how steep the path was becoming as they went up. Prompto glanced up as he exhaled heavily, but he couldn't see the end of the path. "Did we hit the top? Feeling past my peak."

Gladio also took note of how steep and long the path ahead was. "I'm afraid you've still got a ways to go."

The blonde wandered over towards (Y/n), smiling with a faint blush. However, his red cheeks weren't due to their close proximity but the heat of the volcano. "Oh beautiful goddess of fire, could I possibly ask for a lift to the top?"

She stopped and crossed her arms. "You want me to transform and carry you to the top?"

He nodded, coming to a halt in front of her with his hands clasped together. "Yes! I'll do anything you ask!"

"Hmmm..." She looked around, noticing the others had stop to listen to their exchange. Tapping her chin in thought, she finally came to a conclusion. "Why don't we all share the love and suffer together?"

"What? No!"

She nodded, faking an innocent smile. "Oh, yes. Get those legs moving, Prom. The longer we stand around here, the longer it'll take us to get to the top." She walked around him and made her way up the extremely steep slope.

Prompto gaped at her back as she ascended the volcano, leaving him and the others behind. His shoulders slumped forward with a dejected sigh. Reluctantly, he followed Noctis up the steep slope. He could feel the muscles in his legs screaming. "Killer climb, dude."

"It's killing me," Noctis groaned.

"Feeling a steep pain," Ignis said, unable to stop the joke from slipping from his lips.

"One false step and you won't feel anything ever again," Gladio commented.

Halfway up the steep path, Prompto had to stop for a brief second to catch his breath. His legs were a little shaky from the intense climb. He breathed out heavily, hunched over his knees. His hands rested on his thighs. "I think my legs are gonna give... Don't even wanna think about how sore I'm gonna be tomorrow." As he tried to regain his bearings, he saw how close he was to the edge of the cliff. Curious, he peaked down at the rocky ravine below. He thought he saw something twinkle in the light of the setting sun.

Not realizing how weak he was, Prompto lost his balance and screamed as his body started leaning forward. He tried to quickly step back from the ledge to prevent himself from falling, but he blinked in surprise when he noticed his fall was halted. That's when he felt a hand latched around his belt. Looking over his shoulder, he saw (Y/n) was the one who saved him from falling.

"You really are reckless sometimes, Prom," she sighed, pulling on his belt. She tugged him away from the ledge and released her hold on the accessory. "C'mon, you're almost to the top."

The group reached the top of the slope and crossed a rocky overpass. As they made their way down another path, Noctis tugged on the collar of his shirt with a groan. "The hell's with the heat?"

"As we climb, so does the temperature," Ignis commented.

"Well, this is a volcano," (Y/n) stated.

"Hey!" Prompto shouted. "What are the chances of it erupting while we're here?"

"Who knows," the girl answered.

"Bright side-you won't suffer long if it does," Gladio chimed in.

Reaching another junction, they came across more spiracorns and saphyrtails. Noctis glanced at the spirit in hopes to get another freebie, but groaned when she waved innocently at him. He performed a warp-strike and joined the battle. The others summoned their own weapons and joined the prince.

After the battle concluded, Noctis chose the right path. Molten lava covered the ground, causing the boys to rethink the prince's decision. (Y/n), on the other hand, wasn't bothered by the hot ground. Her clothes were fireproof and she welcomed the heat when she stepped onto the molten lava. She turned to the boys, placing a hand on her hip. "We should try searching every path, right? Vyv wants that picture."

Gladio folded his arms across his broad chest. "How do you expect us to follow you, short stuff? We're not fireproof like you."

"I only need one person to come with me." She jammed a finger in Prompto's direction. "C'mon, sweetheart, you're coming with me."

He blushes faintly at the term of endearment as the girl transformed. He jogged over to her and climbed onto her back. When he had a secure grip on her fur, she turned and proceeded up the molten lava path. A little ways up, they came across a flock of thunderocs. Prompto summoned his gun and easily disposed of the birds by himself.

Reaching the end of the path, they stumbled upon the cave Vyv mentioned. Prompto stared at the pit and waterfall of boiling lava. "That looks like lava so we definitely don't wanna go down there." He raisies his camera and aimed it at the cave. "Could you get a little closer, (Y/n)?"

The fox took a few steps closer to the molten edge. "Oh, that's much better!" Prompto chanted. He took a few pictures before lowering his camera and patting the top of the spirit's head. "I got the best pics! Now we can head back." The guardian turned away from the cave and trotted back down the path.

Once they reached the bottom and Prompto was off her back, (Y/n) reverted back to her human form. "Well, we can check one thing off our to-do list."

"You were able to locate the cave of which Vyv spoke of?" Ignis asked.

"Yep. Now all we have to do is find the royal tomb."

Noctis was fanning his face, groaning, "We need to hurry. I'm burning up in here."

"And I'm sweating buckets," Gladio added. He then gestured to the (h/c)-haired girl. "Short stuff here hasn't even broken a sweat."

"Like I said, this is my kinda place," she giggled.

The group wandered down the left path. There, they found a flock of wyverns and thunderocs. Making quick work of the creatures, they easily cut them down and climbed up the cliffside. Up top, they discovered Owlyss Haven.

"This place is practically begging to be camped on!" Prompto cheered.

"You are aware we've no camping equipment, correct?" Ignis asked.

"Yeah, but look at the time! The sun's setting and my legs are killing me..."

"I could just flop down on the ground and sleep right now," Noctis said with a large yawn.

"Guess we're camping without the camping gear," Gladio said.

"I could fetch the camping gear," (Y/n) offered. "With help, of course. It might take a few trips, though."

"I'll go with you," Gladio offered.

Prompto, who'd been analyzing the pictures of the lava cave on his camera, overhead the shield. His head snapped up. "I-I wanna go with her!"

The brute already knew why the blonde intervened. "You afraid I'm gonna steal your girl?"

"Wha-no!"

"Then sit that scrawny ass of yours down. Let the men handle the heavy lifting."

Before Prompto could retort, (Y/n) interrupted. "Okay, that's enough. Prom, you stay here. Gladio, you come with me."

"What?" The blonde gasped. "But (Y/n)-!"

"This isn't about who's strongest or who I like the most. This is simply just trying to get the camping gear up here. Gladio offered first so he'll be the one accompanying me. Are we clear?"

Prompto hung his head with a dejected sigh. "Yes..."

"Great! Now then, let's go, Gladio." The guardian transform and allowed the shield onto her back. When he was comfortable and had a hold of her fur, she ran back in the direction of the Regalia.

Prompto watched them leave with a childish pout. "He better not do anything..."

<--------------<<<<<

It took (Y/n) and Gladio three trips to bring all the camping gear to the top of the Rock of Ravatogh. Thanks to her multiple tails and help from the shield, they avoided a fourth trip back to the car. They even brought up Ignis' ingredients so he could prepare dinner.

Once the tent was pitched, Prompto crawled inside and hid from the others. He scrolled through the pictures on the camera, but his attention was drawn away from the small screen when the tent flap opened. He watched (Y/n) enter the tent and sit beside him. Not saying a word, he looked back down at his camera.

Folding her legs to the side, the guardian rested her head on Prompto's shoulders and watched him flip through the various photos on his camera. He tensed slightly, which didn't go unnoticed by the girl. She lifted her head from his shoulder with a sigh. "Do you really think Gladio made a move on me?"

"This is Gladio we're talking about..." Prompto muttered under his breath.

(Y/n) carefully took the camera out of his hands and set it aside. She placed her hands on the floor of the tent and crawled towards him on her hands and knees with a stoic expression. Prompto swallowed nervously, backing away from the approaching girl. He wound up slipping and falling on to his back. His eyes nearly popped out of his head the moment the girl crawled over his body and hovered above him. Her (h/c) locks fell over her shoulders as she looked down at him. Her hands came to a halt by his shoulders. "Gladio didn't try to hit on me. He talked to me about his family."

Prompto swallowed the lump in his throat, cheeks turning slightly red. "R-Really...?"

"Why would I lie to you?" She retorted. "What could I possibly gain by doing that?"

"Th-That's..."

"There's no way I'd leave you for someone like Gladio. You're the man I love, not him." She gently lowered herself onto him and rested her body against his. She pressed her ear to his chest and listened to his racing heart. Curling up against him, she sighed contently and closed her eyes. "I kinda wish we were at a hotel so we could have our own room."

"Yeah. Me too." Prompto gradually wrapped his arms around her. One hand entangled in her (h/c) locks while the other was placed on her lower back. He closed his eyes, basking in her warmth and gentle touch. Her pleasant scent wafted into his nose, making him smile. "Sorry for earlier. I-I didn't mean to sound like I was accusing you of lying."

"It's okay. I forgive you," she giggled. "As payback, we're gonna stay like this until dinner's ready."

"You won't hear me complaining."

As intended, the couple remained in the same position until dinner was ready fifteen minutes later. They exited the tent and ate dinner with the others. Once their bellies were full and it was time to call it a night, they put out the campfire and crawled into the tent. It was somewhat cramped, but everyone was able to get comfortable and fall asleep.

<--------------<<<<<

The following morning, the group got up early. (Y/n) and Gladio returned the camping gear to the car before they decided to proceed forward. They wandered down a side path, but they didn't make it far before the shield stopped them. "Hold up-down there. What is that?"

(Y/n) followed his line of sight and saw what he was talking about. "It almost looks like a giant nest."

"Please don't let it be," Prompto whimpered. "If it's big, then there's an even bigger thing that made it."

Noctis continued to lead his companions down the rocky path towards a horde of wyverns and killer wasps. They slew the creatures before exploring the rest of the path. At the end, they dropped into a large nest.

"Wow. It really is a big nest," Noctis commented, stepping over a large feather.

"Yeah, but...where's the thing that made it?" Prompto shuddered.

"No idea."

Prompto kept looking at the sky for any sign of a large creature. He thought they were clear until spotting a large object flying around the Rock of Ravatogh. He gasped before leaping at the prince, grabbing his leg. "Noct, there it is!"

Noctis grunted as his body fell to the ground, the blonde yanking on his left leg. "There what is?"

"Giant...BIRD!" The sharpshooter shrieked. "And it's coming right at us!"

(Y/n) looked up at the sky to see the large winged creature closing in on them. "Uh-oh..."

"Oh no!" Noctis yelled.

"Get away from there!" Gladio bellowed.

The prince tried to shake Prompto off his leg when seeing the large bird was descending towards them. "Let go!"

The blonde hugged Noctis' leg tighter. "I can't!"

Ignis ran over and used his own body to push them both lower to ground. "Get down!"

The zu swooped in, targeting the three. Gladio and (Y/n) stepped back to avoid the bird's large form as it landed in the nest before taking off again once seeing it was unable to grab Noctis, Prompto, or Ignis.

The strategist adjusted his glasses. "Seems we arrived at feeding time."

Prompto stared up at the sky as he laid on his back. "We're not staying for the meal, are we?"

"Let's just get out of here before it decides to grab one of us again," (Y/n) said. "If we do plan on fighting that thing, we need a place that isn't so constricting."

"Let's go," Noctis said, hopping down the nearby ledge. The others followed and entered the vast area. There was just enough room to fight the mighty zu. They watched carefully as the large bird swooped around the sky one last time before landing with a thunderous screech. Noctis warped to its beak and started attacking. Gladio and Ignis focuses on the feet while Prompto and (Y/n) targeted the wings.

The spirit's attention was drawn to Noctis when one of the wings located on the zu's head swatted him like a fly. She transformed and caught him on her back, placing him back on the ground before jumping onto the creature's back. She dug her claws into its flesh and used her fire breath to burn a portion of its back.

The zu cried out in pain as some of its feathers were set ablaze. It went on a small rampage, stomping around and knocking the boys back. Ignis, who took the heaviest blow, fell onto his back with a groan. Prompto fires a single round at the zu before rushing to the advisor's aid and handing him a phoenix down.

(Y/n) unlatched her claws from the zu's back and leapt to safety when it spread out its wings and shook its body. After it knew she was off its back, it set its sight on the boys. It used its heavy body and large size to deliver heavy damage to them. The spirit tried to distract the bird, but she couldn't gain its attention even if she hurled a fireball at it.

After struggling for nearly half an hour against the zu, the boys had gone through many curatives. (Y/n), who was barely injured, knew this battle was too much for them to handle unless they had more help. Reverting back to her human form, she shouted at the prince. "Noctis, a divine intervention would be great right about now!"

Noctis dodges the zu's talons and glanced at her. "H-Hey, I'm trying here!"

"You have no idea how you did it before, do you?!"

"Exactly!"

She groaned, deciding to take matters into her own hands. She didn't want them to find out this way, but they'll be killed at this rate. She conjured the Creator's Blade, holding the hilt with both hands. She pointed the sharp tip at the ground, inhaling deeply before exhaling. "God of creation, use my body to do your bidding for I am the conduit," she whispered. The sword began glowing, grabbing the boys' attentions.

"(Y/n), what're you doing?!" Prompto shouted.

She glanced at him with an apologetic expression. "Ending this battle."

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || Masterlist

#ffxv #ffxv x reader #final fantasy xv #final fantasy xv x reader #prompto argentum #prompto x reader #prompto argentum x reader

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sudden-stops-kill · 7 years

Photo

haroldine . http://woodbrothersracing.bigcartel.com/product/the-rooster-mens

#wood brothers #2000+ rt #15' tall rooster from mexico #haroldine #victory junction gang camp

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lily-of-the-eyrie · 4 years

Text

📚 FWH - Webb/Monro Letters

Throughout the siege, there were a number of letters sent between Lieutenant Colonel George Monro, the commander at FWH, and General Daniel Webb, the overall commander of the New York frontier area who had his headquarters at Fort Edward. The contents of these letters are mostly about updates and the planned courses of action for the siege, a task complicated by the fact that a couple of letters coming in from Webb got intercepted by Montcalm.

I’ve found the transcriptions of all of Webb’s letters and a few of Monro’s from this research paper on FWH someone did here and a collection of the letters of George Bartman, Webb’s aide-de-camp who managed his correspondence.

✉️ Webb→Monro (4 letters)

① Dated Aug 3 (written at 16:30, received by Monro later in the evening)

Sir Your letter Genl. Webb receiv’d by the two Rangers of Rogers’s Company about one o'clock. we have just fir’d the two minute Guns repeated each quarter of an hour to shew you we knew your situation; but as for determining any further the General cannot till he has inner particular intelliegence from you, which he desires you will take every opportunity of giving him. The signals would have been answer’d early in the morning, but that nobody who heard them could give a proper account how they were fir’d, and soon after they became promiscuous. Six Rangers were sent off to you to enquire into your situation, and acquaint us therewith, and whether the communication was cutt off between the two Forts. The General doubts not but every thing will be done for the best on yours and Colonel Youngs part, and is determin’d to assist you as soon as possible with the whole army if requir’d. We have as yet no Alarums here from the Enemy. This goes by three of Putnams Rangers with orders to destroy it if likely to be taken.

I am Sir, with most sincere wishes for your safety till we can come to your assistance, G. Bartman Aid de Camp

② Dated Aug 4 (intercepted by the French; received on the evening of Aug 7 from Montcalm)

Sir, I am directed by general Webb to acknowledge the Receipt of three of your Letters, two bearing date about Nine yesterday Morning, and one about six in the Evening by two Rangers, which are the only Men that have got in here, except two yesterday with your first, acquainting him of the Enemy in Sight. He has order’d Me to acquaint you, he does not think it prudent (As you know his Strength at this place) to attempt a Junction or to assist you till reinforc’d by the Militia of the Colonies, for the immediate March of repeated Expresses have been sent. One of our Scouts brought in a Canadian Prisoner last night from the Investing Party which is very large, & have possess’d all the Grounds five miles on this side of Fort Wm Henry. The number of Enemy is very Considerable, the Prisoner says eleven Thousand and have a Large train of Artillery with Mortars and were to open their Batteries this day. The General thought proper to give you this intelligence, that in Case he should be so unfortunate from the delays of the Militia not to have it in his Power to give you timely Assistance, you might be able to make the best Terms were left in your power. The Bearer is Serjeant of the Connecticut Forces and if is happy Enough to get in, will bring advices from you. We keep Continual Scouts going, to endeavor to get in, or bring intelligence from you.

I am &cc. G. Bartman Aid de Camp

③ Dated 6th Aug (late arrival; received 8 or 9 PM of Aug 9 from ally ranger, after surrender)

Sir Yours of this morning 6 oclock we have receiv’d and I am directed by General Webb to acquaint you that as we have now got together by the March of the Militia in the highest spirits three Armies of five thousand Men in different parts of the Woods he shall set out in the night with the whole join’d together, and make no doubt of cutting the Enemy entirely off.

I am, Dear Sir, till I have the pleasure of seeing you to partake of the Victory, G. Bartman Aid de Camp

[P.S.] We shall bring a Field Train. The Bearer if pursued is indeed to make away with the Letter.

④ Dated 8th Aug (received from Montcalm at 6 PM on Aug 9 after surrender)

Sir: I am directed by General Webb to acquaint you, that it is entirely owing to the delay of the Militia that he has not yet mov’d up to your Assistance, but as he had now got a party of them and Expects a thousand more tomorrow, you may depend, upon their arrival, that he will not fail to March to your Assistance; you will upon hearing him engag’d consult with Col. Young how you can by making a vigorous Sally from Camp best support his attack. We have sent repeated Letters but are sorry only one has got in, tho we hope none have fallen into the Enemys hands, as most of the Parties have returned but were all closely pursued. We shall have about an hundred & fifty Indians with Sir Wm. Johnson, but shall keep them nigh as to prevent any Mistake. We wish most heartily that you may be able to hold out a little longer, and hope to have it in our power to relieve you from your present disagreeable Situation, tho we are inform’d by a Prisoner we took the first Evening of the Enemy’s landing, that they are eleven Thousand strong. On the receipt of this, the General desires you will send off several Expresses to acquaint him thereof, likewise what you judge the Enemys Numbers to be, and how long you think, you could hold out against the present Cannonading.

I am &cc. G. Bartman Aid de Camp

✉️ Monro→Webb (7 letters surviving, at least 1 more lost)

① Dated Aug 3 ② “ Aug 3 ③ ” Aug 3 ④ “ Aug 4 ⑤ ” Aug 6 (reached Webb in the morning, detailing loss of cannons)

⑥ “ Aug 6 (reached Webb shortly after letter ⑤, similar content)

Sir. As a Proof of the Insufficiency of the Artillery, We have had within 24 hours, two 18 pounders, one 12 pounder and one Mortar burst, from which you will see the necessity of sending up a fresh supply of Artillery as soon as possible. We have been obliged to give two 12 pounders from the Camp, which we cou’d very ill spare. In case my Letter of this Morning shou’d not have reached you, I am to repeat to you, that the Enemy are plaging upon us from a Battery of Nine pieces of Cannon mostly 18 & 12 pounders.

I am &c. Geo. Monro

⑦ Dated Aug 6 (last letter of the day, reached Webb in the evening)

Sir. This is the third Letter I wrote to You today: In my two former I acquainted you with the situation We were then in; Since that time, there is another gun in the Fort rendered useless by the Enemys’ fire: and We have discovered New Works carrying on, Which we believe will be Completed this evening or tomorrow morning, which will bear equally the Fort and upon the Camp. I beg pardon for Saying, that if reinforcement, We had reason to Expect from your Letter, the only one I have ever received from You, which bears the date of Augt. 3d/ had arrived in time, our situation would probably have been better. About two o'clock this day I received from you a Verbal Message from two Rangers, mentioning an Expectation You had of being Joined by Sir Wm. Johnson and some Indians; as they delivered it in so Confused a Manner, I really cou’d not rightly understand it. I have as frequently as possible acquainted You with every Circumstance that has passed since the Enemy’s appearance, and therefore Submit the Whole to your better Judgement. In my former Letters of this day, I told you there were four Cannon burst in the Fort within 24 hours and likewise that I had made a request of a fresh supply of Artillery having sent into the Fort two 12 pounders which We cou’d spare very ill from this Camp.

I am &c. Geo. Monro

⑧ Dated morning of Aug 8

Sir, The Fort and Camp will hold out in hopes of the speedy Relief from You, which We hourly Expect, and if that does not happen, We must fall into the hands of our Enemies. Your letter dated 4th instant was delivered to me by an Aid de Camp of General Montcalm’s; that letter falling into his hands was a very unhappy thing and has to be sure, elevated him greatly. As to the Numbers of the Enemy, the Canadian prisoner mentioned to you, every body here is of the opinion that was greatly Magnify’d. If they really had those Numbers, they might have demolished us at once, with out Loss of time. The Enemy are Constantly playing upon us from two heavy batteries of Nine pieces Cannon Each. Relief is greatly wanted.

I am, &c. Geo. Monro

#⟪Research 📚⟫#⟪✠ Honour and Loyalty ✠⟫#supplementary material for the FWH timeline #That is a lot of letters flying out from FWH 👀

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scotianostra · 5 years

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February 17 1746 saw the Battle of Falkirk.

In my opinion this was the highlight of the .45 campaign, yes Prestonpans was a good victory, but at Falkirk the Government troops were better prepared, and really should have been in a better position to gain a victory over the Princes Army.

The Hanoverian forces approached the field of battle from the north-west of Falkirk and drew up their lines, which included a large contingent of cavalry. It was raining hard on that January 17th, with a strong wind from the north-west at the back of the Jacobites but into the faces of the Hanoverians, who had to advance up-hill. The dragoons began the attack, hoping to break the Highlanders, who were thought to have a fear of horses. The right flank of the Jacobite front line felt the brunt of the attack first, firing their pistols at point blank range, which practically broke the charge. The remaining horsemen closed on the Jacobites and many of the MacDonalds went down beneath the horses, as if they were trampled.

"The Highlanders extended on the earth pitched their poinards into the horses bellies, others seizing the calvary men by their dresses and pulling them down, slew them with strokes of their poinards; many used pistols, but there were few that had elbow room to be able to wield their swords."

The charge had come sooner than expected, so the left flank was not yet fully formed at the time of the attack. Five minutes after the first shots were fired on the right flank, and after the left flank had sufficiently formed, the Camerons and Stewarts of Appin were charged by two or three battalions of Hanoverian foot soldiers and also cavalry. The vast majority of their ammunition was expended upon the charging cavalry units, so these 800 Camerons "went in with great bravery, sword in hand." In the midst of battle Donald Cameron of Lochiel, XIX Captain and Chief of Clan Cameron, was slightly wounded in the foot by a musket ball. His brother, Dr. Archibald Cameron was nearby and persuaded him to leave the field of battle to dress the wound. In the process he too was wounded by a ball, which would remain in his body until his dying day.

Meanwhile, the second line of Highlanders on the left flank crowded in with the first, leaving their left side exposed.

The resulting flanking movement by the Hanoverians forced the entire left flank to fall back to their original line of battle, where they continued their attack until the enemy finally broke. Fortunately for the Highlanders the Hanoverian artillery, being mired along the advance, did not come up in time to be of any use.

Within twenty minutes Lt. General Hawley and his forces fled the field of battle. "The cry of `Stop pursuit!' flew suddenly from rank to rank and the Stuart soldiers, who were just warming to their task, were brought up in confusion. Night was falling and the men, having broken ranks, were a jumble of clans and tongues without their own officers to guide them. Some, seeing what they took to be watch fires lit in the Hanoverian camp, though that the battle had been lost. Others sought shelter from the strong wind and lashing rain."

Shortly after the battle, Lochiel was well enough to lead a detachment of Camerons into the town of Falkirk, finding nothing but "a few straggling parties in the streets." Joined by Lord Murray and hundreds of other clansmen they were able to confiscate large quantities of military stores that had been left behind. When that "terrible wet night" (as it was called by a Captain in the Hanoverian army) was over there were 420 Hanoverians killed in action and a multitude of wounded and prisoners. The number of Jacobite deaths was reported at about 50, with between 60 and 80 wounded. Though Hanoverian forces were disgraced once again by the presumed "inferior" Scottish Highland. Although it was a massive morale boosting victory nearby Stirling Castle remained in the hands of the Redcoats.

Jacobite desertions continued, Prince Charles was in poor health and despite the triumphant poetry and music written to commemorate the victory there would soon be only one sensible option, to retreat again. On the evening of January 29th Lord Murray, Lochiel and five other clan chiefs sent a document to the Prince advising such a retreat into the Highlands at this "critical junction." William, the Duke of Cumberland with his substantial Hanoverian army was headed north and the Jacobites were seriously outnumbered and outgunned. In due time the Prince reluctantly agreed.

Look out for a wee add on to the battle later when I tell you about nearby Doune Castle where Hanoverian prisoners were taken to afterwards.

#scotland #battle #Battle of Falkirk #'45 uprising #Jacobites #History

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tinytouristtakessf-blog · 5 years

Text

The last chapter in SF

Jan 25th, 2020.

An Introduction.

In 2017, Jess was introduced to our quiet, oversized, and mainstream lives... Little did we know, that everything was about to change. The winds swirled overhead as she landed and within a couple weeks our loud, mini, hippie-witch-grandma-babe became ingrained in our lives!

Coming in hot with a list of must-see, -try, -listen, -taste, -climb items for SF, Jess managed to keep us busy trying new things and living our best fun-sized life.

In honor of one chapter coming to a close (and another very exciting one just beginning!!), we want to take a look back at some of the beautiful moments you’ve helped us create! Thank you for being a part of our lives in San Francisco, and we are so excited and proud of you for making big moves across the seas in New Zealand! Don’t forget us and please come back to re-visit your San Francisco community soon 😻

Love,

Everyone

Credit: (always) Inspired by the TinyTourist

2017

Let’s take a walk down memory lane back to 2017...

Enter 2017… when some of us all met Jess Tilles for first time. Something we may be too old to do but in our early 20s we were able to stick through 9 hours of drinking. Santa Con was the day into the night we were all obliterated… but Santas and mistletoe and FUN! We all look very youthful, oh what a few years in SF has done to our age. It was also one of the first and last times we all decided to go out in the Marina, and then proceed to eat Italian Homemade food. The beginning of an era!

Meanwhile at work... Jess quickly becomes a driving force of work parties with Holmes (and Eva and Jess discover they are both proponents of Bell sleeves). Of course Jess=where the party @ after having met most of the team at a highly questionable night tearing up the Castro prior Olga’s birthday.

Celebrating big moves to the bay, Jess, Shiri, and Leeza united in the gorgeous SF winter on Hattie St Balcony (a local’s hidden gem). It was then that Leeza and Jess instantly realized they were meant to meet and pursue all the best indie-folk-hippie music together. The rest of the concert saga is history!

2018

March 2018

Jess and Leron feeling lucky on St. Patty’s day by wearing all black and going against the mainstream in classic Jess fashion.

April 2018

Jess and Eva jamtfo to Penguin Prison at at their favorite SF venue, The Independent on Eva’s bday. They groove from the front row where Jess has zero obstacles blocking her line of site. Eva gets to hold the gee-tar.

Parisa's first day in SF! A messy deep dish experience could only be ended with a super fun barcade.

August 2018

For many of us, it was our very first overnight backpacking trip that hot summer weekend in July. Leeza had on the heaviest pack and powered ahead of the group (per usual), while the rest of us fumbled behind. We all kept enthusiasm high and it was a glorious moment when we 1) dipped into the freezing cold water at the end of day one and 2) when we finally took our packs, shoes and socks off at the end of the hike, and we all agreed that we would not do that trail again if someone paid us a million fat ones. Such a memorable trip- it was a great shared bonding experience for us to be out exploring in nature, and struggling together but ultimately powering through. Caroline was peeing every 20 minutes of the hike as usual, Leron was making interesting jokes and Shiri and Jess kept our spirits high!

Jess has her first grown woman trip to LA with Eva. They stay in Sunset Junction (Micheltorena stairs pictured) and have a romantic werk wife stay at the legendary Casa Crawford Airbnb, where their room doesn’t lock and they share a bathroom with the elderly spooky owner. Highlights include swan boating on Echo Park Lake, yoga at Equinox, eating at Mh Zh and Sqirl, unwinding at Wi Spa, crashing a mansion party in the Hollywood hills, and celebrating Lauren’s 30th birthday. Jess also very much enjoys catching up with a friend in Venice Beach.

In spring 2018, Jess made moves in the city to make friends and become ~sporty~ with Shiri in the Play Recess league. Striking the perfect balance between minimal coordination and slap-cup, we learned to destroy the competition in what really counts! Culminating in an ultimate scavenger hunt debacle, Spinelli led the group to victory! (Not actually sure if we completed the scavenger, but the memories we do have were definitely winners :) ).

October 2018

Halloweenies with our favorite Grandmama. Photographed left to right: Grandmama (Jess), Wednesday (Caroline), thing (Cole), Gomez (Leron), Morticia (Shiri), Lurch (Jack) and Pugsley (Jacob)

In the spooky month of October 2019, the Fulton Fam got together to throw our first rager - an extravagant Addams family party. Thanks to the creative inspiration of the group, we were able to pull off some spooky vibes, including spider webs, grey hair, ridiculous mustaches, and more.

Late 2018 marked the beginning of the Fulton house era- too many nights sitting around watching Fort Night, debating Zinc in double-blind tests, and hundreds more conversations that none of us can remember… We will never forget the eclectic energy Jess brought into the Fulton house. The large batches of pasta & pesto she cooked and the lotions & soaps she brewed up. Brew hahah. As the first alumnus of the Fulton house, Jess has since ventured out to #adult in her 2 bedroom apartment in Nob Hill.

Before Jess left us, we had one last BirthRight hoorah with Jacob’s new friends. There was a peculiar guy making brisket in our oven, and handing samples around like a Costco on a Saturday afternoon. Shiri infamously used her photoshop skills to crop the beloved Leron Gil into the house party he missed. Good times!

December 2018

How could we forget the numerous ski trips in 2019 with Jess? There were so many weekends bopping around down the slopes in Heavenly, Kirkwood and North Star. On this specific photographed trip, Jess and Caroline celebrated their birthdays with a weekend getaway to Northstar. Too much Secret Hitler was played. Things got wild. Other board games were forced upon us (lol). But looking back it was a great time hanging with friends, drinking champagne on the mountain and blasting some groovy tunes down the mountain.

Over the holidays, Chinese food is a tradition… a very delicious meal at Koi Palace! While living in Fulton, there was a 2 month hiatus where just Jess, Caroline and Jacob occupied the house. Some like to call that period of time “the cleanest time of Fulton”, others call bullshit. The three bonded over diverging political opinions, bitching about who never cleaned their dishes and doing korean face masks.

2019

January 2019

Ringing in the New 2019 Year in San Francisco with a large group of our friends was quite the experience! Great to celebrate together together at the boom boom room with some live music (but also not great that the window got smashed 😂)

One of Jess’s many ascents at Mission Cliffs! Go Jess send it!

Only Jess and her gleaming charisma could rally coworkers to see a concert AND have work pay for our HH drinks (thanks for the sus hand-written receipt for expensing, @Madrone Art Bar). We saw her beloved Magic City Hippies at The Independent which was funky and upbeat Miami vibes all around. Also pictured are Mary and Georgine who are/soon working in New Zealand as well.

February 2019

Always remember the earplugs! Jess knows how to concert.

March 2019

Soccer moms go to Warby Parker. Epic picture and times of Jess with the Fulton boys.

April 2019

A new(ish) face joined the Holmes Fire SF team- finally Jess and Irene’s LDR was over! This was our first team building activity as a new group and with Jess in charge of course we ended up climbing!

Celebrating Eva’s Birthday with a fun rooftop HH at El Teco on a sunny spring day!

Jess, Eva and Irene order frozen pina coladas and take in the views before a Mission bar crawl of sorts, closing nice and early with burritos from El Farolito.

May 2019

Hanging out at the top of the SalesForce tower. Pro tip, bring a structural engineer for some great commentary.

Bay to Breakers with team eggs and team hippies (aka Jess’s typical aesthetic)!

Always discussing the most important topics at work- like water bottle sticker placement! #bigdecisions

July 2019

One of the best Holmes site visits ever!!

Jess and Eva drive up North for a wine country getaway they won a while back at a silent auction. En route they plow through La Croix cans, have a rad lunch in Sebastopol and dip their feet in the picturesque Russian River. Early evening, they taste and tour facilities at Moshin Vineyards in Forestville (shout outs to that delightfully dry pinot noir rosé) before stargazing (ft. skunk!) and cozying up in a cabin suite with the movie Sideways. The next day, they have a beautiful morning walk by the vineyards. By way of Jess’ parents, they land in Ronald McDonald’s home for a private tasting. Jess learns she loves fruit-forward wines!

September 2019

The second infamous backpacking trip! **GIRLS TRIP**!!!! The time we thought it’d be smart to not get camping food and cook kraft mac and cheese with no microwave. What it came out to be was a big bowl of cheese goop, with Ella, Anna, Olaf and unicorn characters drowned in there. A big SHOUTOUT to Marie for pulling through with the fancy face creams and sharing with the group, us talking about waxing *ahem* body parts and again, Leeza leading the charge with Foxy! At night, we laid out on the benches and stared up at the stars - the night was so clear! We couldn’t stop laughing over things I can no longer remember… except about discovering the world was indeed not flat. Once again, Caroline likely peed 20 times total, and was coughing and heaving (sorry for being sick!) 😅

Jess and Eva get weird in Portland! Where they sip rooftop beers, frolick in the Nike HQ ( a mass timber wonderland), meet Big Foot and Krampus, procure free passes to a saucy community event, dance to 80s music at a goth bar/visit crusty dive bars, have a prime strawberry cough (and beanie) experience @ Electric Lettuce, savor prime Bamboo sushi, and Jess gets a cute ass tragus piercing. Throughout the trip Jess wears a lot of black to Eva’s delight #moody #angsty. On their walks to the Portland office, Jess appreciates the changing fall leaves and residential neighborhoods, feeling reminded of home on the East Coast.

Just another amazing Jill Hike ;)

October 2019

OK - San Francisco was filled with challenges… and Tough Mudder was one of them! Although we found out that at the end of the race - you would be electrocuted - we persisted. We - as a team - got through to the finish line. So proud of everyone for completing the race! Although Caroline was the only one who copped out of electric shock. The number of times we dunked into mud baths and climbed 10 ft walls…

Jess’s favorite time of the year and a visit from Tariq! Jess and Eva decorated the whole office to look super ~spooky~ON ANOTHER LEVEL (featuring creepy clown photos, hella cobwebs and caution tape, bloody stickers, and of course fake plastic bugs) and organized a halloween bar crawl around North Beach (@ Maggie McGarrie’s and Tupelo)!

November 2019

A big fan of live music, Jess is a great Concert buddy. Always down to explore new music and venues! This was such a fun bonding night where we got greyhounds, beers, caught up on life and danced at Polo & Pan. So fun!

Proxima Parada at Milk Bar birthday concert where Jess got a shout-out from the band! ft. a blurry instagram story and classic typos. Prior, the whole squad turns up at Hobson’s Choice over punch bowls.

HP marathon or studying for PE? Well! let's master both!

December 2019

One of the best days in December was unexpected. It started out with a simple brunch plan but ended in a full day of activities!! New spot on polk was where Jess and Maries’ friendship began and continued to blossom!

After having an amazing meal (great eggs benedict) and hours of catching up we decided to walk back to our houses together (since we are neighbors!!). Jess was excited to see Marie’s new couch (that was 50% off hehe) and decided to come over. Kap, Jess and Marie did a long (super difficult) puzzle (connected a few pieces) and watched netflix. We order Thai food (Kap ordered us cookies) and we relaxed all day. It was a special day where the three of us reminisced about San Francisco and all of our time here. It was a day no one wanted to end!!

Holmes Holiday Party- Jess’s favorite drink was the beet cocktail 😉

Cozy three course italian dinner with wine at 3pm! Best part of the afternoon was my hot date, Jess ;)

Jess and her neighborhood park (shoutout to nob hill, the real MVP) winning Shiri over with its views on views.

January 2019

On one of Jess’s final few Tahoe ski weekends, she SENT IT down a black diamond on her first weekend back of the season. Harrison found a great photo opp for Jess, Marie and Caroline against the Xtreme advanced only sign. The weekend was filled with playing Mafia, jamming to tunes down the slope, exploring Squaw valley, having some nice Apres Ski, and getting fed some good, slow-cooked food (haha!).

[JESS, INSERT YOUR PHOTOS FROM THE LAST WEEKEND IN SF!!!]

NOTES FROM YOUR BIFFLES TO SEND YOU OFF <3

Dear Jess,

Thank you for entering into my life and being saggitarius soulmates. I love that we are on the same page about so many things - planning, me-time, boys (kinda), beards, skiing, tardiness, traveling, being avoidant, being wholesome and SO MUCH MORE. I’m so happy we bonded over the last couple years we’ve known each other. I miss all the times I would knock on your door and catch up while you marie kondo-d your entire closet. Thank you for pushing me in new and different ways which you may not have realized (like forcing me to vote) and inspiring me to do good with the environment (hehe).

You are kind-hearted, loyal, so brave and bold and I’m so proud of you for going out on this adventure to New Zealand!! I will miss you lots in San Francisco and miss the ridiculous random shit we would laugh at during out ski trips or cooking or when we could catch up at home. Thank you for always listening whenever I felt like blabbing on and helping keep me grounded. So excited to visit New Zealand and can’t wait to explore! Plz don’t forget all the great memz we had in SF!!

Love you lots XOXO

Caroline

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Jess!!! We have done it all together and now we can add New Zealand to that list too! I’m so glad that we got to overlap in SF and I had you here to show me to ropes. I can’t wait to follow your kiwi adventures and see all the fun things you do.

Love you lots!!

Xoxo

Irene

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JESSICA. My favorite small person to kiss on the head. I am so glad we could bond over our love of funky music and skiing. I’ll always be here to make sure you don’t look like an egg on the ski slopes and can’t wait to visit you and your Kiwi men soon. You are a sweet, funny, life of the party small person who’s going to find so much success and kiwi men in NZ. Love you so much, and may the yearly backpacking live on!

-Leez

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Dear Jess, You are such a sweet soul that is thoughtful and cares about everyone around you. I’m so thankful I had the opportunity to meet ya (ty shiri!!) and get to know you over the last year and a half. I always have so much fun on our walks, breakfast dates, or ski trips (and so much more). I’m so extremely happy for you to be following your dreams (and a lil sad that we won’t be neighbors anymore). I can’t wait to come visit ya and enjoy more adventures together! Love ya, Marie!!

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Jess - I love seeing how far we’ve come since our truss-ty mechanics class, traveling across the country and seeking out all the best from life! Although your soul belongs in a hippy world, I know you will find your people and place no matter where you land (just keep being YOU). New Zealand is lucky to be getting the tiniest force around. You will certainly be missed, but know that I’m just a WhatsApp message (or a quick flight!) away :). Excited for the tiny tourist travels ahead <3

Love, Shiri

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Blonde Meets Brunette. Relatively Tall Meets Considerably Short. East Coast Meets West Coast. Engineering Major Meets Fine Arts Major. Happy Music Meets Sad Music. On paper we might come across as opposites, but internally and emotionally I am so grateful for the rich grey areas and nuances we’ve discovered that we contain. The odds were slim for us to cross paths in this big ol’ universe,and I’m so grateful we found each other to help tame and ground the ups and downs of being-in-your-twenties. You have been a guiding, real, and empowering force since Day 1, and you’ve taught me so much. I can’t wait to see all you accomplish in this new chapter and far beyond! ALL the love to the best work wife there ever was.

Eva Slusser

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Yo,

Glad we have been able to go on a bunch of snowy adventures. Look forward to visiting your weird kiwi fire life sometime and I'm sorry I always assumed you were the mafia.

-Dave

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Jess,

It was great getting to know you even if it was only for a short amount of time. Will always remember you bombing it down that double black diamond at squaw, the hike in Berkeley, and the constant disapproving looks sent my way.

GO PRO CAPTURE

- H

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Jess!! Thank you for being the kindest soul your are. I enjoyed every bits and pieces of our friendship from Stas' lab to smoke control class to getting to bond more here in SF.

Can't wait to follow the tiny tourist adventures through this new kiwi chapter. Auckland is lucky to have you!

Love you and see you soon!

Parisa

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This post serves as written confirmation that I have previously stated thank you and please and no longer require these societal norms to be restated. Once I see you in New Zealand, reside in your dwelling and depart back to San Francisco, I will not provide a thank you note. I expect the same from you.

See you soon,

Leron

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Jess - We will miss you, but having a friend leave SF is easier when you know theres great adventures ahead for them. I’m excited for all your NZ adventures, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous. Keep us in the loop and I look forward to seeing you in the future.

-jacob

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kickinthetires · 5 years

Text

Help send kids to Victory Junction Camp; Get your name on Bubba Wallace’s car

You can help send kids to the @VictoryJunction camp and get your name on @BubbaWallace's No. 43 for @RPMotorsports at @TalladegaS next month. #NASCAR #MENCS #FeelYourHeartRace

By Sarah Handy, Staff Writer

When the Monster Energy NASCAR Cup Series heads to Talladega Superspeedway next month for the 1000Bulbs.com 500, NASCAR driver Bubba Wallace’s No. 43 Chevrolet for Richard Petty Motorsports will be extra special.

Victory Junction and RPM have started the Feel Your Heart Race campaign to help send more kids to the Victory Junction Camp located in Randleman, North…

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#1000Bulbs.com 500 #Adam Petty #Bubba Wallace #featured #Kickin&039; The Tires #Kyle Petty #MENCS #Monster Energy NASCAR Cup Series #NASCAR #news #Richard Petty #Richard Petty Motorsports #Sarah Handy #Talladega #talladega Superspeedway #Victory Junction #Victory Junction Camp

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the-kings-tail-fin · 6 years

Note

Does Cal run any kind of legacy for Adam, like the Victory Junction Camp?

Yeah, sorta, this is explained in the last chapter of the fic! [x]

#Anonymous

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gabriowo-inactive · 2 years

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THE WANDERING STAFF (PT. 1)

The moon, looming over the treetops, wrapped itself inside a shroud of clouds, as it stalked me with cautious curiosity. Its lunar brilliance gently snuck past the midnight foliage, shadows waltzing with the wind, and rested at the foot of the cackling bonfire. Wisps of smoke somersaulted lazily into snaking streams before playfully planting kisses of heat upon my cheek. The night was alive with birdsong and the distant crunching of leaves. Percy, my three-eyed feline companion, raised his left leg up, with unwavering concentration to groom himself, and proceeded to lose balance and tumble over, caking his already-dusty black fur with the grime of the forest floor. Raising a finger to my lips, I quietly shushed him from my tree stump as the distant crunching transitioned from a soft, rhythmic pitter-patter to a frenzied, erratic sprint. The sprint was interrupted by the sound of a whipping snap, the sound of a snare becoming intimately acquainted with an intruder's foot. A youthful yelp morphed into piercing cries for help as palpable panic set in.

I scrambled to get up onto my feet, my heartbeat now emulating a hummingbird's wings, and Percy let out a victorious meow.

"Huzzah, indeed, Percy! We've got ourselves a live one," I exclaimed while bouncing side to side.

"Mr-mraowwww," roared the mobile filth-ball, now swaying along with me.

Scooping Percy up, I held him straight out in front of me, his chunky body wriggling with an intense RPM (rotations per meows), and kept him suspended as his whiskers twitched restlessly and his earrings jingle-jangled ceaselessly. Our camp for the night had been at the junction of twelve paths, trails now obscured by the inky veneer of dusk. Facing him towards the first path of six in front of us like a dowsing rod, I slowly waddled in place, spinning myself clockwise until Percy eventually stopped gyrating and started to chitter as I aligned him with the fifth. Closing his two ordinary eyes, Percy concentrated on the trail with his now bloodshot third eye, as it started to bulge out of the socket, bursting out in a confetti of viscera, and stretching its thorny wings.

“That a-way, eh, Percy? We boutta get our first bounty!”

#my writing

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silent-songs · 7 years

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Here is the mysterionzine Preview of my three pieces!

I had such a blast doing these >w< I wanted to do one more but work got in the way.

I hope you all consider supporting the Zine

Its proceeds will go to Victory Junction - a camp for children with serious medical issues. (check out their website HERE for more info)

And here is the link to the kickstarter. We are already a fourth of the way there for publishing the books!

#Zine #preview #Mysterion #silents art

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spellucci · 3 years

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Bill Burke

Monday, October 18, 2021

Today is the first full day of our three-day class in off-roading. It is hosted by Storyteller Overland (STO), and taught by a team of STO, Warner Vans, and 4-Wheeling America employees.

The latter is headed by a highly experienced teacher named Bill Burke. Bill is a good-humored veteran with the savvy that comes with four decades of working with all manner of off road vehicles. He is proud of the the culture in Grand Junction that represents "redneck meets hippie."

There are 12 STO vans in our class. We are all parked in the Masonic temple lot that abuts this back yard. We each take turns filling out fresh water tank from his garden hose before class.

The class convenes in the Masonic temple classroom. STO event organizer TC Bougie leads us in a series of UTM mapping exercise. This is our first chance to get our hands on a detailed local map.

Then Bill takes over and gives us a detailed explanation of how all wheel drive and four wheel drive work and how they differ. He has several bags full of transmission and steering parts. He uses these to great effect to demonstrate, for example, how a differential works, or how you can break an axle by abusing your rig.

He teaches us tons about how to use our knowledge of how our rig works to drive off road. For example, a continuum of braking techniques:

1. Stop the damn truck

2. Cadence: on and off brake modulation

3. Threshold: gentle drag on the brakes

4. Two foot driving

5. Toe/heel (only for rally driving, which ain't us)

We take tons of notes.

Then, we head outside to do hands on demonstration work on our rigs. We did a tire change using only what comes with our rigs. We did a vehicle inspection. (Do you know how to examine your tie rod ends?) We saw a recommended tool kit that struck a balance between completeness and compactness.

Enough classwork, the leaders declare. Let's go driving. We students are more than ready. We review caravan protocol and radio communications, and head out into Grand Junction. After a few separations due to traffic lights, we finally form up in a line on U.S. 6. Yeah that U.S. 6 that goes from Cape Cod to California. We are quite a sight.

The first stop is a hill climb. We all shift into 4WD, low range. One at a time we navigate our way across the desert and climb up a seriously steep trail to the top of a hill. One driver's camper stopped partway up simply because she was not pushing hard enough on the accelerator. She pushed harder and finished her drive successfully. When our turn came, Bill cheered us on with a cry of "Wicked pissah!"

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It was certainly as steep as anything we have ever driven. Coming back down was perhaps more exciting. It was certainly more obvious on the way back down that the trail was over a knife edge, with little room for error on either side.

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We all made it back down safely. We reformed our caravan and headed to the campsite for a recovery lesson and dinner. Two STO media employees met us coming up the hill to the camp with a video camera and a camera on a drone to document our victorious parade.

A windstorm kicked up enough dust to postpone the recovery lesson. It finally calmed down enough for Bill to give his somewhat snarky class on what to use and what not to use when pulling a rig out of deep sand.

Class over, we enjoyed a delicious dinner prepared by the support crew, followed by a campfire. We retired to our rigs when the expected rain began to fall. We are looking forward to some even more challenging drives tomorrow.

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hoenn-hakase · 6 years

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TPP Bronze: Summary Day 2

So continuing with the next 24 hours, we just finished our match against Grass Specialist, Gym Leader Weedy and had our Sentret evolve into a Furret! Now it's onward and upward as we seek out our third Gym Badge. I will say it's kind of nice that there's been little actual story to the game so far making it less of an ~adventure~ and more that our girl, Fifer, is simply taking in the sights of her homeland. After all, if you can't leave town on your own until you become a trainer, there's a lot for little bitty to take in.

After learning CUT, Fifer was able to take a shortcut back to LittlePond and entered the Underground Path once more, this time to take the route to Kanto so we can hang with Red in his room for a while before returning to LittlePond to continue our travels. Inspired (or something) Fifer returns to the fields near Orchid City and Brown Cave where she finds a couple of new friends. Including a SHINY Hoppip! 8O

Eventually, Fifer decides to explore a new area with her new Cut ability, and heads through the Underground Path toward Peel City. A boy blocks the gateway though saying "something weird" is up ahead and it's best not to go through there, forcing Fifer and her team to make their way through Junction Park instead.

We find a small town that has apparently been plagued by rocks and all the buildings are blocked off by rubble. Fifer has no choice but to continue south while her team is in desperate need of healing. Fortunately, we passed out on the road, so we were fully healed when...

We enter the gate to the city and get a surprise battle from our Rival, the male protag if we had chosen him, named .... Nothing. No seriously, his name is --?!! Which for someone ~so mysterious~ he's pretty upfront about what he wants. The match started because he saw Fifer and knew they'd both been catching and training Pokemon, so why not have a match? He's got a Scyther, a Pidgeotto, and a Charmeleon (one of the starters we didn't choose was Charmander). After getting whooped (mostly by DeadOps) he decides to do something even bigger. If he can't beat us in a match, why not a race? First to get all 8 badges wins! Fifer just kind of stares at him as he leaves and immediately just "whatevs" and turns to leave the gateway for Peel Town.

Peel Town is Kohto's largest city, having wide streets and tall buildings. It's also got the Game Cormer and Department Store for this region. The game decides to troll us by having a normal Mart as well, but trying to buy balls reveals that the store is closing up shop due to being run out of business from the Department Store. Least we got some Leftovers XD There's also a... "Warehouse" that is important enough it has its own slot on the map. Curious, but we'll get to that later I'm sure.

Knowing how these things go now, Fifer decides to be a good girl and blow all her money on Poke Balls and Great Balls before entering the gym. Which seems to have a love for Fire and stairs that lead to nowhere. Bianca is... a strange one. (Who says we better have a water type cause she gonna give us THE BURN D8 ) Sadly, we don't. And our underleveled team puts up a good fight before losing. Round 2 though... went about the same. ROUND 3 though we actually claimed victory with over half our team in one piece. Progress! \ 8D / And so we get to say bye to her and- Wait... no wait.... she lost the badge.

After helping her look, Fifer is stopped by a nearby trainer who says they managed to find one. Bianca seems the type to easily panic, so best return it to her before she tears out the floor boards looking for it. Doing so, Bianca officially gives us the Terra Badge~! Wait, isn't "Terra"... earth? Well her Arcanine sure did like to Dig... It allows to use Strength now! She also gave us TM 28! .... Which is Dig. Guess that badge is starting to make sense now. XD We seem to celebrate this by depositing APE the Zubat for our shiny Hoppip, I hugs (?)

Trying to leave town to continue on her way though, Fifer is surprised to have the police say NO ONE is allowed to leave town that way. Confused, she goes back to wandering the city. She finds the Game Corner for which she needs a Coin Case to play. The Peel City Parking Garage which is currently being blocked by some punk teen telling her to buzz off because she's a kid. And the Game Freako Game Office where she got the unnerving shock of meeting her maker. (And --?!! too! D8 )

At the urging an old man, she heads for The Markets where she finds an Herb Shop, a Massage Parlor, some strange and highly on edge trainers, and the COIN CASE! 8D Naturally, the Chat's first priority is to go to the Game Corner. THEN realize some of their party is too unconscious to join in the fun, so they head for the Center. Going into the residential area, a nice man gave us The ITEMFINDER! Which we then proceeded to find the largest treasure yet.... The Day Care XD

We leave Shush the Pumbloom at the Two Sisters' Daycare and fill in the 6th slot with Shuck 3P0 (PPPO.. is the Shuckle's actual name) and decide to train in the fields late into the night. Fifer gets into a fight with an officer for being out after curfew. He is highly embarrassed by our skillz XD Tired of all this, she heads back through Junction Park and camps out until sunrise

Having been out way too late, Fifer seems to have forgotten all of the day's events as during the next Day Cycle she renters down and AGAIN goes to the Mart having it's closeout sale, the Market, the Game Freako Office and even the Peel Parking Garage only to realize she already covered all these places. Eventually just wanders off toward the Game Corner to play her problems away while contemplating things.

A balding man asks her if she'd taken on Bianca yet, and... Well after the day she's having, she seems unsure as she re-enters the gym and confirms with the Gym Guide she's one tough kid to have beaten all those grown women.

Going back to the housing area, she quickly finds out she's not the only one looking for loot. Especially not legally. Entering one of the houses she finds a woman screeching at a teenager, dressed a lot like the punk from the garage, who's torn up the house and broken her TV while trying to make off with it. Fifer immediately goes to confront him, but instead of fighting her, he challenges her to chase him down and takes off. Not one to say no to a challenge, she immediately heads to the Peel City Parking Garage and kicks in the previously guarded door.

She just as quickly draws attention to herself from this gang calling themselves Racket Teens and gets into battle. The first boy tries to sway her wrath by explaining how they're just hanging in the garage. Fixing cars. Normal cool kid stuff, ya? An elderly gentleman disagrees as he screams about the mess these Racket Teens have made and how he highly doubts they know anything about mechanics. He'd be right, as there's so much oil on the floor, it's gained ICE PHYSICS o.O;

Fifer manages to track down the punk she came in for and beats him down. He gives her a word of warning though not to go checking the Department Store as there's apparently a much larger scheme in place the Racket Teens are up to. Naturally, she heads straight there and peers into the darkness of the stairwell that leads even beneath the basement...

Which ends off Day 2. Honestly I think her repeating everything is just miscommunications between Day Crew and Night Crew not knowing what had already been done, but it makes for an interesting turn of events. Also seems our girl is starting to come into her own as a threat is in the air. What are they up to? Who knows~ We'll find out in the next "episode"!

#twitch plays pokemon #pokemon bronze #fifer #fifi #summaries

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