Remembering There and Back Again

        

  Hey guys!

     Today, or rather yestderday, marked the iconic event when the Battle of The Five Armies movie was released. Yes, I realize that this was due sometime earlier this week.

     Those amazing people over at Three Fangirling Sisters have created a co-op blog post to celebrate the amazing hobbit movies. :) And I committed.

Into the pit of feels I go

                                     

                       

Three Fangirling Sisters

    I'm going to be a bad person and do all 3 in one post. Okay? Okay okay go toad.

Favourite Character

      Gotta be good 'ol baggins. Mainly because I relate to him, and he is the main character, depending on your point of view.
Favourite Actor

       Martin Freeman for the win. I love his performance and his character and his face and everything. :) I love everyone else too but he's #1.
Favourite Actress

       Evangeline Lilly. Sue me.
Favourite Quote/Line

       To pick out of the many:

       "Da, why are there dwarves coming out of our toilet?" "Will they bring us luck?"
Favourite Soundtrack

       Possibly when Bilbo's running after the dwarves. I had kind of forgotten where we were (because it was just so amazing already) and it snapped me back into middle earth. I love hobbit music.
Favourite Friendship

        I love Balin and Bilbo. Or any of the dwarves and Bilbo honestly :)

Favourite Costume

                                                    

Because is this cozy? I think it is

                                              

                                       

         I could go on for a while. :D
Favourite Weapon

This one. It's so pretty. :D

                                                   
Favourite Minor-Character

        Pretty sure Fili is major, but he would definitely be it. If he counts as a major character, Cumberbatch was an excellent Smaug. 

Favourite Scene

        The entire Lonely Mountain scenes. I love when Bilbo goes in to find the Arkenstone, and the others eventually follow.
Favourite Screen Shot

                                                 
                                             
                                         
                      
                              

                                 ... one you said? :/
Favourite Location

       Either Hobbiton or Erebor.
Did You Cry?

       When Bilbo did, Hewl yes. My feels died.
Did You Dress Up As Anything?

        Does female Bilbo in an alternate universe count?
Did You Watch it at a Theater?

        The first, no, our good friend brought it over. The second and third, though, we went for with the same friend.:)

What Are Your Personal Thoughts on the Movie?

         I was unsure of what to think of an unexpected journey, but when we sat down and watched it, I was completely blown away. The actors were amazing and the music was amazing and Gandalf was back and Frodo was in it and all the good stuff. I loved the dwarves and it was an amazing introduction to the trilogy.

         The second, Desolation of Smaug, was by far my favorite. Bilbo's character development was unbelievable and Legolas dwarf-surfing (need I go on?). I loved the Erebor scenes and, again, Smaug. (I honestly loved grabbing my littler bro and going 'That's Sherlock, Cal, that's Sherlock, isn't he great?)

         Though not my favorite, the Battle of Five Armies was exceptional. The feels hit right in the spot and the acting even more so. I loved the intrigue of Bilbo hiding the Arkenstone and then followed his logic in handing it over to Bard and Thranduil better than I had in the book.

         Needless to say, the dwarves are all precious, and you gotta love Kili and Fili feels. I loved cheering when Thorin snapped out of the Dragon sickness and they charged into battle. I like watching Tauriel fight (most of the time, that is) and Bilbo. Just... yeah.

       Sorry for all the words, and thanks again to those geniuses The three fangirling sisters at this link. Y'all is awesome.

Should I not have jumped??

Cause I jumped!!!!

                                     

         

         

     

About Romance

   


     Hey all! It's been a while since I've posted but now I'm going to take a try at one of those writie posts where the good writer would proceed to talk very effectively and knowledgeably about something they spotted in writing- in this post, that will be romance.

     I have just wanted to rat out to the world about this subject to someone other than my sister Sam, who i have many times in the past, and get it out there.

     The thing today is BAD ROMANCE.




                                                      -- BAD ROMANCE--
                         




                                





       So, why bad romance? Thing is, I have read a book recently, a pirate book to be exact, that was a romance (surprise, surprise). On top of that, it was written by a Christian author.

     Don't get me wrong. If there hadn't been a romance the plot would have been decent. But there was a romance and I couldn't help but cringe every time the two main characters looked at each other, much less talked to one another.

     Now I am a hypocrite. I suck at writing romance and my characters are probably a little too raw with each other, if anything. (So why am I writing a post about this?)

     Consider, on the one hand, all the romances in movies and books.

     (The titanic, the notebook, to name a few.)
   
     (Someone tell me to shut up because I don't actually watch romances :/)

     It's sweet, and romantic, and girls buy the merchandise, right?
 
     As a writer, I can't help but cringe. Especially about this pirate book.

     The boy was in love. He was enraptured. He was completely and ultimately consumed about the girl. If he didn't know what she was eating for dinner, he just might die in a pile. He would sell his soul to Satan if it meant she could have the cookie she wanted. It was bad.

     He was a Ken doll running around after Selena Gomez. He was fake.

     Fake characters make for a fake book.

     And she wasn't any better. She was completely taken  by the Ken doll and when he told her he loved her (with dramatic music in the background) she threw herself on the nearest object like a Disney princess and wept.

     (Not literally, but you get my point.)

     Romance doesn't happen like that. I take my mom and dad as an example. They're not constantly gazing at each other and kissing. They don't have time to. If they were my older sisters would be dropping out of school (of course I would still be the perfect student) (JK) (lol) and my little sibs would be running into the streets and picking up candy from strangers.

     Romance is real. It happens. Just not like that.

     As a writer, I tried to write a love scene, took a step back, and said "Something's missing here."

    Bear with me here.

   
    "The cave's darkness did nothing to dim the stars that were in her eyes. He looked down on her with such a look of compassion and love to even melt the hardest heart. He ran his hand through her raven-black hair. 'How are you, my love?' He demanded with a fiery gaze, angered at whoever had done this to her. Her flushed cheeks flushed further at his concern and she sighed. 'Better now that you are here.' His gaze was intense on her face and with his next words were broken by a hiccuped sob of anger. 'Whoever has done this, i will make them pay.' The gentle one was quickly shushing him, and smiling with such tender love. 'It's but a scratch, my dear, don't worry.'"

   
     Do you see my point? It's bad, really bad. I wish to spew over my own writing. They don't talk like this. Maybe some people do, but it's freaking weird, Ani. So I tried again. These two are best friends. They care for each other, but you realize how it is with your best friend. You just don't quit your needy job to admire their new puppy. It just doesn't happen. Here's the rewrite:



     "Lou scrambled ahead of me to her and as I sat by her head he came by her side. Upon seeing him Cobie broke into a radiant smile that shone ever brighter on her face that was covered in dirt and sweat. “Lou!” “Hello.” He returned, resting a hand on her head, “Are you alright?” “I feel much better than before.” She admitted, “Thank you.” I watched sheepishly as he looked her over, freezing as he examined her leg. “God, Cobie… I…” She placed a hand on his arm. “It’s better, Hun. I’m fine.” He stared at her in silence for a while, and she just smiled. He opened his mouth to speak but she stopped him by reaching up with one hand, grabbing him by the back of his head and pulling him down to kiss her."

     

     Not better by much, I admit. But it's simpler. The characters feel real.

     Some romance is like they're always kissing when in real life it's more like:

Sherlolly foreva 

     Literally in every way. The dude spazzes out, the girl slaps him because he's neglecting to empty the dishwasher.


    Whelp

    That was long and rather unhelpful.

    I will become better at this, promise!

    I am not good at romance so comment your thoughts please!

     Here's a link to a good example of a real romance, being Hiccstrid.

    And that's all!


    https://www.pinterest.com/pin/475270566898993371/

    Thanks for reading and have a great day!

Sweater Weather Tag

     Ah. Ah. Ah.

     I have been nominated for something

     Somebody needs to help me Ah.

     I think I just write down the answers to the questions....

     Right?

     (Who is this idiot writing a blog again?)

     (Oh wait it's me.)

                                      

                                              Sweater Weather Tag

1)Favorite candle scent? 

    PUNKINS PUNKINS ALL THE PUNKINS

2)Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?

   Oh hot chocolate all the way.

3)What is the best fall memory that you have?

   Um. Maybe going over to friend's houses and goofing off. :) Like selling hot chocolate on the side of the road, I don't know. 

   

4)Best fragrance for fall?

   Does just cold air count? Or apple pie? I also think funky fall-y hand soaps.

5)Favorite thanksgiving food?

   Sweet potatoes.

6)What is the autumn weather like where you live?

   It is actually very deceptive out here, because all the leaves turn and it is still warm. :/. But then it eventually cools off, with warm streaks in and out.

7)Most worn sweater?

   I have actually been wearing my sister's "Team Fili" sweatshirt more than she has. Other than that, if you mean I own it, probably my CCU soccer hoodie.

8)Football games or jumping in leaf piles?

   Both! I really like pretending I can play football with my dad and little bro. Also I've never actually jumped into a leaf pile but does adventuring into the woods count?

9)Skinny jeans or leggings?

   Skinny jeans! Quite honestly, I think my butt is too big to wear leggings on a daily basis. :)

10)Combat boots or Uggs?

    I haven't ever had combat boots. I had Uggs, but they have since passed to the other side and so... no comment?

11)Is pumpkin spice worth the hype?

    I have absolutely no idea what this question is asking me but I love pumpkin spice, so yes.

12)Favorite fall TV show?

   Yeah, I don't have cable. I am on an Avatar: the last airbender  marathon with my sibs though! (Heheheh. Awkward homeschooler.)

13)What song really gets you into the holiday spirit?

    Ahhhh I was so torn over this this whole week! I think anything christmas-y, in general. If it's cold outside, and there's music playing, I'm into the holiday spirit with no help needed.

14)What do you want to be for Halloween?

    If I was a good cosplayer and my hair worked out I have always wanted to knock on someone's door and say trick or treat in a british accent as Obi-Wan Kenobi. (Warning: Do not buy the creepy masks. I swear to Batman that thing scared the crap out of me)

15)Hats or scarves?

    Oh, both. Hats are so much fun and scarves make me feel grown-up and trendy.

16)What is your #1 favorite thing about fall?

    Cold air. :)

........ Okay so wait, I need to tag someone now?

      Okay.

      Hannah at Letters to all my girls.

      Does that work? Sorry, you are seriously the only blog I follow.

      -facepalm-

      Hey! That was fun!

      Thanks for reading all the terrible randomness and go check out other people who have done this tag!!

      Have a great day!

                                   

                                          

Molly Became a Pirate Pt. 3

Hi Everybody!!
Crazy life and weekend so Molly happens to have been frozen for a while.
Oops. :)
Okay... time for more lame and bad fanfiction your way!!
Spoilers: Who doesn't love some Boatswain Lestrade?







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                                                                      #########

     Over the next day the Scarlet Letter was quiet. In the afternoon one would find the four in the captain’s cabin still. Moriarty was propped on a stool facing Molly whilst in the lagging middle of a seemingly endless monologue. Molly was half-dozing, having tried to listen in mock-politeness, but her head had lolled forward on her chest long ago and, though the rival captain had noticed, he had glanced away casually and let her sleep. John was unconscious where he was tied, his head lolling back at an uncomfortable angle and the blood from his shoulder covering and staining his white shirt. Then there was Seb, soundlessly whittling a stick and staring at the doctor, not even choosing to listen to his captain, whose story he had no doubt heard many times before.

     There were the four of them. And then there was a curse from outside and the sound of someone yelling, “Oh for Christ’s sake!” and then there was a bang of someone landing on the deck outside of the double doors.

     Molly started awake and Moriarty froze. He exchanged a glance with Seb, who gave him a grim look and tossed his stick to the side. There was a moment of tense silence. And then the door was kicked mercilessly in and someone jumped in. They instantly went for Moriarty, as he was closer, and tackled him, managing to down him with a single blow to the face. Seb was almost upon him when he grabbed Moriarty and spun to face Seb whilst holding a gun to the captain’s head.

     “Greg!” Molly cried, more out of relief and pain than anything, but Lestrade didn’t turn to greet her as he scowled at Seb and held Moriarty ever tighter. The captain only laughed.

      “Hello, Molly’s boatswain!” He made an attempt at cheerfulness even as Lestrade pulled his headlock even tighter. “That was rather a bold move on your part. What are you going to do now? Stand there until we reach the shore?”

     Lestrade was going to make some kind of reply, but the captain beat him to it. “I mean, you could do that, or I don’t know, sod off?”

     He gave some kind of signal to Seb, who casually pulled a gun from his coat pocket and pointed it at the unconscious John.

     As Lestrade’s eyes widened, Moriarty giggled, “Tell me, do you like your doctors dead? I like them alive, particularly this one, he’s a great damsel in distress.” Anyone in the room could see Lestrade’s brain going at a million miles an hour. Finally Molly made up his mind for him.

     “Greg, don’t.” He instantly pushed Moriarty away, but retained his position in front of Molly. Moriarty forgot about him, however, for the moment, for he had gone over to John and now patted his head.

     Both Greg and Molly tensed at his touch, but he again seemed to take no heed and simply took the moment to straighten out his coat from the previous scrape he had just been in. He looked up at the two and then laughed.

     “Look at you, you’re both so funny.” He giggled as they scowled at him. “SO serious.” And he made a mockingly serious face. Suddenly they heard a cry from above deck that sounded like a cry of “Land!”. Moriarty grinned at the two and held his hand out to Seb, who delivered a gun to him. He looked directly at Lestrade as he pointed it at John’s head. “Make a sound, and I shoot.” He warned, and nodded to Seb who sneered and approached the boatswain with a rope.

                                                        #####

     The cry of land was taken up and Sherlock grinned into the sun as it set. His sunburnt face had taken on a grim determination and his windswept hair almost looked red from the long and restless days spent in pursuit. But now, they were at America, and he could only hope against hope that John had kept to his word and that Molly, as well as Greg, were safe. He took a deep breath as a fresh gust of wind blew in from behind and hardened his resolve to catch up.

                                        

                                                                         ######

     It was dark by the time they pulled into swimming distance of the land. Everyone on the ship was carefully quiet as they stared at the Scarlet letter whose sails were up and whose lights were out. They dropped anchor, having seen a party heading onto the beach and into the forest, and Sherlock quickly gave orders for them to get into a boat and follow in close pursuit. He left two guards over the boat, and swam out for the Scarlet Letter himself.

As soon as he stepped on board, something felt wrong. There had obviously been some kind of scuffle on board, as he could see scratches in the worn wooden deck. He peered down closer, spying blood. He would have liked to further investigate but an eerie sound to his left drew him away. He followed the sound cautiously, coming out onto the helm to see, on the deck, a small device that trailed a string all the way across the deck into the hold. Sherlock evaluated the device for a long while before taking a cautious step forward.

     BANG! Somehow the device snapped to life. A couple levers whirled about, a small hammer hit home, and a spark appeared at the end of the string. The string ignited and the spark paused there. The pause lasted only a second before the spark began racing down the string on its way to the hold. It went so fast that Sherlock, knowing its purpose could never be good, had to run to catch up before it disappeared down the steps to the hold. Sherlock ran down after it as it wound down the steps, burning out as it went. He raced after it as it twisted around them, and down the next set of stairs leading to the next deck. Sherlock was nearly upon it by the time there were down those stairs and winding around to the next flight down. These led into the hold, and even at the top Sherlock could see what was happening down there and the fuse’s destination. For a moment, he paused in disbelief, and realized what was about to happen. That moment was all it took for the fuse to burn down the stairs.

     He realized his error in pausing and made it down in one leap, landing painfully hard on his feet and rolling. He gave himself no time for recovery, however, and dashed forward. The fuse had just barely reached its destination when Sherlock whipped himself around and slid in to kick the flare out. He jumped up, forgetting about his now sore hip and ankles and ripped the very last strand of string off of the pack of dynamite, lying directly in front of an unfortunately and securely tied John Watson, just in case. The doctor was very awake and his eyes were wide with fear as he stared at Sherlock, who threw the burnt-out fuse aside and began searching for any back-up flares or anything that the cunning Moriarty should have planted on the poor man who had an entire magazine of gunpowder all lined up for the massive explosion.

     After making absolute sure that the danger was over, Sherlock untied the gag from around John’s head. As soon as it was out, John gasped for air and in his next breath, blurted, “Sherlock, thank God, I’m so sorry, they’re on the mainland, they have Molly and Greg, and I tried so hard to keep her safe, but he hurt her and I’m sorry I broke my promise and-”

     Sherlock was instantly shushing him as he struggled to untie the ropes binding him fast to the wooden pole. “It’s alright.” Sherlock shushed him, “We’ll find them, alright?” John’s eyes were still wide as he pursed his lips and shook his head.

     “I told you I would protect her.”

     “And you did. She’s not dead.” Of course, they didn’t know that for sure, but it seemed to calm the doctor a little. He sniffed and leaned his head back on the post behind him, still gasping in relief.

     “Thank you.”

     Sherlock didn’t answer and watched John carefully when the doctor closed his eyes.

     “John.” John gave the smallest shake of his head as it lolled farther back. Sherlock gave him a last glance before returning his gaze to his work. John was obviously in bad shape and Sherlock’s slender fingers held as much urgency as he felt as he quickly untied the ropes holding John. It didn’t take long for the first mate to slacken the ropes and John sagged as soon as the support holding him up left him. Sherlock caught him with one arm, using his other hand to finish undoing the knots at his feet before he finally finished and gently cradled the unresponsive doctor.

     Sherlock didn’t even try to wake him and scooped his free hand beneath his knees before hoisting him to his chest and standing. The task was no small feat, and as Sherlock slowly waddled around, he huffed with John’s weight. He checked the ship for more booby traps or signs that it was rigged to blow, and then readjusted John so as to sling him over his shoulder and climb overboard.

     Though the swim back to the ship felt long, Sherlock had an easy enough time of it, using an old back stroke technique solely for the purpose of carrying injured mates through the water. One arm he kept around John, who uselessly sagged against him, and the other he used to paddle hard for the other boat. He managed to make it there, and was greeted by the rather unwilling guards he had left there, Donovan and Anderson. They didn’t bother helping the poor man with his load as he struggled onto the ship with John weighing him down. Sherlock had to lay John on his back as he gasped for air and looked up to give the two a threatening glare.

     “Once, uh, once he wakes up…” He began, still gasping for air, “Give him water and as many rations as you can… He’s going to bleed out soon so if you could bandage him up that would be good.” He finally seemed to gather some of his breath back and stood from John’s side. “Please take care of him. If he dies when I get back…” He stared hard from one to the other for a very long time and didn’t even need to finish the statement.

     The two nodded rather dejectedly and while Anderson glared at Sherlock, who began to climb back into the water, Donovan stared sadly at John, obviously regretting this new assignment.

                                                     ######

Yay! Lestrade!!

Thank you for liking this video and subscribing to our channel!

You know what time it is!!

                                   

             

Molly became a Pirate Pt.2

    

So yeah, y'know how life is.

-shakes fist at sky- FIE THIS LIFE!

Sad, sad stuff. So I wrote some (minor) angst today, if the stuff that puts me to sleep counts as angst.

(oops.)

Molly became a pirate a second time and this time around you get more of her bloody doctor!! (yay!)

And lots and lots of evilness

(muahahahahah)

Enjoy the lameness!

                 
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                                                    ######

      The enemy’s four escorts sank within minutes, the minutes filled with the agonizing cries of the drowning royal navy. Some managed to climb aboard the Scarlet letter for safety, but many more were drowned instead. This left Sherlock wondering how Lestrade had gotten his men out without the ship to their rear seeing them, but he had little time to as he ran back to the hull and began giving orders to pull up anchor and get out of there as fast as possible before Moriarty’s crew knew what was happening and gather their wits to fire upon them.

                                                    ########

     John’s fingers were cramping. He was clinging to the now-sailing ship, the outside of it more specifically, and pressing his ear to the wet wood of the boat in an effort to listen to the conversation inside. Somehow he had managed to hold his position for the night, though, now that it was morning,  he was exhausted. The room was quiet, and he decided he’d just drop onto the balcony for a chance at rest. As soon as he had begun to inch over, however, Moriarty’s raised voice from inside the cabin came to him. John considered his options, sick of sticking to the side of the ship, and realized, with the way that Moriarty sounded, that Molly was possibly in danger. So he stuck with his intended course and, after a moment of struggling along, dropped to the balcony.

     He grimaced at the loud noise and the sudden silence from inside the cabin. John almost slapped himself, but then pulled it together and crouched low in anticipation of the enemy opening the door. It happened none too soon, and John launched himself at the opening, which was made possible by a large sailor who came down with a lightning hard right from John. The doctor sprung into the cabin, swinging and hitting a second sailor with left that was just as heavy, then turned and delivered another right to a third. In the pause in which the enemies were attempting to regroup or pick themselves up off the floor, John chanced a glance around the cabin. Molly was tied to a post on the left, staring wide-eyed at him. Moriarty stood before her and John noticed the massive bruise beginning to form on her face.

     Feeling his face heat up with anger, he dodged a blow from an oncoming enemy and rammed up against him, driving him back into another behind him. John jumped out from underneath them and hit another one coming on. He had only two more between him and Molly, both of which he took down with heavy blows. Seeing as he had downed all the men in the cabin but the captain, he rushed at Moriarty with a cry and, with a massive blow, knocked the man nearly senseless.

     Still, all his enemies had regrouped and now the biggest one grabbed him from behind. John struggled and flailed, but to no avail as the others came and helped to pin him down. Just as they were binding John’s hands behind his back, Moriarty found his feet and grinned at the doctor. “Good!” He congratulated, blinking his right eye, which undoubtedly smarted from the quickly-forming welt beneath it. “Very good!”

     John was breathing hard but managed to maintain a steady glower until one of the sailors helping to tie his hands yanked his arms up in the air and he gave a cry, doubling over as if it would help.

     “The hold, Captain?” One of the sailors asked.

     “Ehhh…No.” Moriarty grinned, and Molly whipped her gaze up to look at him, knowing what that meant. “Keep him in here. I want everyone out but Seb.”

     Seb hauled John to his feet as everyone else left the cabin and Moriarty clucked his tongue, putting his hands in his pockets and stepping forward to examine John, who glowered at him. “Fiesty, aren’t you?” Moriarty asked. In answer, John spat at him. “I see.” Moriarty smiled, then peered closer. “We’ve met before, haven’t we?” John only glowered at him. Seb, however, twisted his arms harder behind his back.

     “He asked you a question.” The sailor hissed, to which John gave a small cry and a short,

    “Yes.”

    “I thought so.” Moriarty mused, glancing at Seb, who loosened his grip. “Molly.” He turned back to the captain, whose eyes were wide and on the verge of shining, “Do you know Johnny boy here?”

    She shook her head and otherwise didn’t say anything.

    “Wrong answer!” Moriarty cackled, and smacked her with the biggest backhand slap she had ever felt. At that, John’s blood ran hot and he twisted away from Seb with such force that the sailor had no choice but to let go, then sprang up and launched himself at Moriarty, knocking him away from Molly. Before he could do better, though, Seb came up behind him and delivered a kick so hard to the back of his head that John would have passed out, had Seb not then been grabbing him by the back of his shirt and dragging him away. As John was pulled off of Moriarty, the enemy captain looked up and grinned.               

     “You do!!” He cried, as if very pleased to know this, “Very good!” Molly opened her eyes and very slightly shook her head, but Moriarty didn’t notice, or didn’t choose to. He was too busy standing and walking over to John to employ this very exciting new development.

     “So if I did this,” Here he wound up and rammed a fist into John’s gut as hard as he could, then whipped around to gauge Molly’s reaction. She, however, had hardened her resolve, and had seen John take worse hits, so kept her face emotionless. Moriarty made an apologetic face. “Well, of course, he’s fine.” He made a noise at Molly. “Awkward…” Without another word he then pulled a gun from his pocket, and without looking, pointed it at John’s head, who realized the danger and began flailing in an effort to release himself from Seb’s grip. Molly’s eyes widened considerably, and Moriarty grinned. “Better.” He applauded, “Let’s try this again.”

                                                        ##### 

     Sherlock was calm, to some extent. They were still in sight of the Scarlett letter. They had managed to swing away, as if they meant to run, but as soon as the enemy ship had begun on its course, had followed in wary pursuit. Sherlock sighed and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, feeling a little jumpy even as the sun warmed his back. He wasn’t sure what to credit his uneasiness to unless it was the fact that Lestrade was nowhere to be seen on the ship or anywhere surrounding it. All of his men had made it back on, but none had seen what had happened to the boatswain. He had brushed it off though, seeing movement behind the Scarlet Letter just as they had been setting out, and only hoped that Lestrade had somehow climbed on. If not, he had just abandoned him and the trusty boatswain who Sherlock had always considered a friend would have drowned long ago. Sherlock brushed the notion aside, somehow feeling that Lestrade was, indeed, on the enemy ship, and safe for that matter. Indeed, Sherlock hadn’t instructed him as he had John to keep Molly well, and so, his conscience at least a little clear, Sherlock tucked the disturbing issue away and concentrated on steering.

     

                                                        #####

     John was just happy that the pain was being administered to him instead of his captain. Molly, however, wasn’t. Her lips were pursed tightly though she refused to break down and whenever the two allies managed to lock gazes she would just shake her head. With every passing second, John couldn’t help feeling disappointed with himself. He’d given Moriarty leverage. Molly had had this under control. It would have been better if he hadn't even dropped in. Moriarty had not shot John, as promised, but he looked like he was planning on it, as Molly refused to talk and John refused to beg for mercy. The interrogation was not going well, and Moriarty’s patience was being tried. As soon as Seb’s yearning to break John’s ribs had passed, Moriarty signaled to him and he stepped aside.

     “Anything to say, Miss Hooper?” Moriarty addressed Molly, who stared at him and didn’t answer. “Good then.” Moriarty held his gun up and aimed again at John, who looked up and swore before looking away again and squirming as if in an effort to free himself. Moriarty made a point at cocking the gun slowly. The click sounded loud to all four. Molly made a brave face and stared hard at Moriarty as John made a weak attempt at a laugh.

     “Good then, what, Mr. Moriarty? You kill me, and what leverage have you left? You kill me, then the captain here has nothing to lose and-”

     “Last chance, Molly.” Moriarty’s voice was low and dangerous. Molly forced her eyes to stay dry and pursed her lips. “You don’t talk, I aim for his head. You talk now, I aim somewhere else.”

     “Like where?” Molly forced, her voice hoarse.

     Moriarty shrugged. “Won’t kill him, my dear.”

     There was a long pause. Moriarty finally shrugged and shifted the gun in his hand, turning and aiming harder at John.

      “Stop, stop!” Molly cried and Moriarty, without looking at her, grinned. There was a pause, where Molly looked like she was reconsidering her life’s choices and John looked up at her, eyes wide, not even sure what it was that she was about to spill.

     “Go on.” Moriarty probed.

     Molly took a deep breath and looked him dead in the eye. “The map is on the mainland.”

     Moriarty froze, then laughed. He pulled the trigger on his gun and the bang hurt all of their ears. John gave a sudden and loud cry of pain as the bullet ripped directly into his shoulder. He doubled over, clenching away the sudden pain and fighting back a cry as Moriarty strode up to Molly and pointed the gun at her head. “Say that again!” He shouted. John took a glance up to see what was going on and froze upon realizing that Molly was being threatened with a gun. He tried to struggle free of the ropes holding him to the post behind him but was intercepted by the smashing pain in his shoulder. He gave another cry as Moriarty cocked the gun and pressed it to Molly’s forehead. She winced and John screamed as he struggled to get free.

      “Say that again.” Moriarty’s tone was low.

     “The map is back in England.” Molly reiterated, keeping her stare at him fearless and void of emotion. Moriarty scowled and lowered his gun.

     “You wouldn’t happen to remember any of it, now, would you, Miss Hooper?”

     Molly set her jaw and didn’t answer. Moriarty raised his gun again, this time pointing it at John. “Not going to miss this time.” He warned. John had looked up and now closed his eyes, his head half-turned away in his effort to struggle free. Moriarty cocked his head. “Is John Watson’s life worth it, Molly dear?”

     “Stop, stop, alright!” Molly gasped, “I’ll show you, just stop.”

     John opened his eyes and looked up, his face expressing the shock of that last statement. “Molly, Molly no-”

     “Please untie the captain, Seb.” Moriarty ordered, keeping his gun now trained on her. As Seb moved to obey, Molly looked up at John and she could clearly see the flush on his face as he suddenly turned away.  Molly felt a sudden anger at the doctor. She had had nothing to lose but her life and he had to come in and give Moriarty leverage that he so desperately needed. She glared at him the whole time she was prodded out of the room. Whilst she walked out, Moriarty turned and looked at John. “Not so tough now, eh, Johnny?” Then he followed the two out and slammed the door shut behind him, leaving the doctor alone to his thoughts and pain.

    

                                                        #####

     The room was silent as Molly drew up the map. Seb had a gun pointed to the back of her head, but more ominous was the promise from Moriarty to instantly dispatch John if she stopped drawing for even a second. She worked quickly, the route not being too hard, and once she had finished with the main path, turned to Moriarty and beckoned him over. She then proceeded to point out booby traps and other odds and ends to him, even drawing them in. Once she had finally finished, she leaned back and handed her pencil to Moriarty.

     “Done?” Moriarty asked.

     She nodded. “Done.”

     “All of it?” He asked.

     She nodded whilst glaring at him. “All of it.”

     “We’ll make sure in good old America, now won’t we?” Moriarty smiled at her, but she sensed the threat.

     “I suppose so.” She forced back, suddenly thinking of Sherlock and her crew.

     “Good.” He congratulated, “Seb, please make our guest back at home.”

     They dragged Molly back to the captain’s cabin. John lifted his head as they came in, and it was no secret that he was looking Molly over for any kind of scrape or even bruise. When he deduced that she was unhurt, he closed his eyes. Molly instantly whirled out of Seb’s grasp and stepped past him to Moriarty.

     “Five minutes to tend to him.” She demanded. Moriarty’s gaze widened at the sudden request and for a moment seemed surprised. Then he shrugged and gestured to her doctor in permission to her request. Seb let go of her as she wrenched away and strode over to John, untucking her shirt from her belt as she went. She instantly knelt and slapped John so hard that he gasped in pain and surprise and looked up. She proceeded to rip the bottom of her shirt off and, balling it up, pressed it to his bloody shoulder. He gave another cry but she pushed harder and his cry turned into a plea for mercy.

     “Molly, Molly, please, stop.” She eased on the pressure and he closed his eyes against the pain, his grip slipping from her sleeve.

     “John Watson, you are in every way a mutineer and deserve just the fate of one.” She hissed, slamming the ball of now bloody fabric back into his shoulder. He gave another cry.

     “Captain, p-please.” When she pushed harder, he gave another cry and gasped, “If anything, I realize I’ve only made everything worse, and I’m sorry.”

     He looked up, his brown eyes sincere, and the two froze for a moment looking at each other. Then Molly looked away and, a little more gently, pressed the linen to his bleeding shoulder, trying to stem the blood-flow.

     Moriarty held to his vow of five minutes, and Molly had managed to stop the blood at least a little bit before her time was up and Seb roughly dragged her away and retied her to her former post.

                                                         #####

Haha see? Lameness!

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You know what time it is!

Yeah! PirateLock!

                                                 

Molly became a Pirate AU

Heaven can wait?
What the heck is this movie??
Anyways.... One day, i was thinking.
Talking to myself, to be exact. And I said, "Self, you are on the wonderful website of pinterest. Why not look up all the heartbreaking Sherlolly fanart?"
So I did. This is what I found:

Perfect artistry done by the wonderful artbylexie :)

                                 



Ta da!!! Smoochie smoochies featuring your favorite ship!
:)

      The captain scurried up the stairs, her hair blowing in the late-morning breeze as the frenzied cry of “All hands on deck!!” came from her first mate who was hard at the wheel. She jumped up to join him and instantly placed her hand on his shoulder as she gazed back behind them.

     “What is it?” She asked, and he handed her a spy-glass.

     “See for yourself.” He said curtly, and she instantly opened the glass and peered through it. Her audible gasp was heard by only her first mate and before he could say anything to her she had shoved the spy-glass at him and was stumbling down the steps onto the deck. The Captain was in the most frantic frenzy any of the crew had ever seen her in, that is, if they took time to stop what they were doing and take notice.

     “Loose the topsail! Loose the main course! Loose every single sail on this bucket, if it can attach and further our speed I want it up!” Her frenzied orders continued on and on until she stepped back up to where her first-mate manned the wheel to catch her breath.

     “Molly.” She refused to turn to her first-mate, who sighed, his next statement barely to be heard over the whipping wind. “You know you can’t run.”

The captain paused, then called over her shoulder, “I want you three in my quarters in 3 minutes,” the skipped down the stairs and was gone from the first-mate’s sight.

                                  *********

     They gathered around the captain’s door exactly 3 minutes later. The first mate took a deep breath before knocking hard, and the two men behind him exchanged a nervous glance. No one had ever seen the captain’s quarters. They were anxious as to what they would find. The door was flung open and the Captain, who had opened it, turned on her heel without missing a beat or formally asking them in and returned to the table which was situated in the middle of the room. 

     Her three friends, never having seen her in such a frenzy, exchanged glances before cautiously entering. The doctor of the ship, Dr. Watson, respectfully closed the door behind them and the three gathered around the table, opposite their Captain, and waited for her to speak. There was a long pause which she broke by whipping her gaze up.

     “Aright.” Her voice sounded hoarse to her friends as she looked up, her bright brown eyes showing her desperation. “I need the three of you to come up with a plan and now.” When her friends simply exchanged glances, she turned to her first mate. “Sherlock. Go.”

     Contrary to what any of them expected, his gaze went blank and he stared at her. “Fine.” Disappointment thudded in her voice and she turned to the next man.      “Lestrade?” The boatswain glanced at the furiously thinking Sherlock before opening his mouth. “We could catch them by surprise,” He suggested, “Swing around and intercept them at the last moment.”

     She only sighed and dropped her head. “I called you gents in here to propose actions that I haven’t yet come up with, aright??”

     “All due respect, Captain,” The doctor cut in, casting a glance at Lestrade before continuing, “You haven’t exactly informed us about what you have or have not thought of. Maybe if you told us what you have come up with?”

     “Turning and taking on 5 English navy ships, for one.” Her first mate spoke for her, casting a fake smile at the three others who stared at him, “For a second, she had considered trying to outrun them, but by all accounts we are still 3 days away from our destination, and thus cannot outrun them.” He placed his hands behind his back. “Our captain has thought of faking a sickness and raising a quarantine flag so that we will not be boarded. The Captain has thought of handing herself over to the English navy, which of course, is absurd, and-”

     “And unless you 3 can come up with a solution from your bloody pirate heads that is any better, it is what I have settled for and I shall not change my mind.”

     An audible gasp went through the room, but Molly did not recant. She stood from where she bent over the table. “I will not see this ship blasted apart and my crew killed if I can help it.” She paused, taking in all of their shocked expressions and sighed, clasping her hands in front of her. “Gentlemen, we are clearly outnumbered. They will wipe us out faster than it takes to blow out a candle and I won’t let that happen.”

     “Captain,” The doctor stepped forward, “Even if you do hand yourself over, either you swing over and have absolutely no warranty that they won’t catch the rest of us and blow us to bits, or, you bring the ship to a stop and we’re as good as captured anyways.” It was clear to everyone that he was just trying to talk her out of it as he continued, leaning on the table, “I swear, there has to be another way.”

     Their gazes locked and Molly chewed her lip as she stared at him. “Then do share.” Her tone was low but desperate. The doctor swallowed.

     “Molly. You know who it is?”

     “Of course I know, John, otherwise I wouldn’t be going to such bloody drastic measures.”

     “Listen!” John snapped, and Molly bit her lip, taking a deep breath as if the full consequences of handing herself over had just hit her. “You can’t do that.” John reasoned as he struggled to keep his voice steady. “You can’t.”

     Molly took heavy breaths as she evaluated her crew. “Any other suggestions?”        When no one responded, she said as calmly as possible, “Then unless you three come up with any more ideas that will not end in the destruction of this ship and crew,” And here she looked each of them in the eye, “Get out of my sight.”

     John frowned. “But-”

     “GET OUT!”

     She didn’t need to repeat herself as the three instantly filed out, John casting a hurt look behind him as he left, shutting the door behind him.

    

                               *********

     The three gathered behind the wheel to discuss the meeting even as Sherlock, being second in command, tried to maintain order on the deck as the rest of the crew frantically scurried about, knowing full well what was going to happen when they were caught. John was the first to state it out loud.

     “You know he’s going to kill us all.”

     “Oh, really?” Sherlock, at the helm, raised an eyebrow all too skeptically, “I wasn’t sure, thank you, Doctor.”

     “We have to think of something!” the doctor exclaimed, clearly perplexed.

     “Do you think we’re not??” Sherlock snapped, “I am literally wracking my brain for a solution, does it look to you as if I am doing anything different?” John pursed his lips but the first mate hadn’t finished. “Did you think for an instant that I would let the Captain condemn herself like that? Do you? What do you take me for? A mutineer?? There is nothing we can do, John- NOTHING.”

     John took the unexpected burst of emotion with no more than a blink and when Sherlock had finished, coolly returned his friend’s stare. 

     Sherlock half-turned to Lestrade, then said coolly, “Nothing, at least, as far as Molly getting onto that ship.”

     Sensing that something else was up, John and Lestrade exchanged a glance. “What does that mean?” Lestrade posed the question for both of them. Sherlock stared at the deck for a moment, his eyes wide and his brain clocking at at least a hundred miles an hour. After a simple moment, he turned to Lestrade.

     “I need you to rally 5 of the fastest swimmers on this boat. Go.” Lestrade, knowing better than to ask, was gone in seconds. John, still confused, looked at Sherlock.

     “You’re going to try and rescue her?”

     Sherlock returned his attention to the helm, altering their course a little bit. “Not me. You.”

     John’s mouth was instantly open in protest but the first-mate didn’t give him a chance, “Listen to me, I have to stay aboard the ship and steer her after you, I need someone to be on board to make sure no harm comes to Molly. You know what he would do to her- I need you there to protect her, do you understand?”

      As the explanation had come, John’s protestation had died away and he met Sherlock’s icy gaze with his own, crushing down his fear of the enemy captain as deep as he possibly could and simply nodding.

      Sherlock watched him closely. “You will protect her?”

      John paused for a moment before answering, “With my life.”

      Lestrade was back then, the five men assembled at the foot of the stairs as he climbed up them to rejoin the two friends. “Right,” He huffed, “here they are.”

Sherlock nodded to the sailors and turned back to his two friends. “Well done. Here’s what we’re going to do.”

                              *******

      It felt like days for the Scarlet Letter and her four escorts to finally catch up to them. Everyone on the ship was anticipating it. As it was nearing sunset, Molly eventually came out of the cabin, looking tired and worn, but laughing all the same and trying to raise her troops’ spirits as she went. No one but the boatswain, the first-mate, the doctor and the six sailors knew what she planned to risk to save her ship and her men.

      The Scarlet and her friends were only a couple of leagues off their bow when Sherlock, still at the helm, turned and gave a discreet nod to Lestrade, who stood beside him. Lestrade nodded back and hurried downstairs to get his faithful swimmers who waited, decked with backpacks that contained enough dynamite to blow a hole in a ship big enough to sink it. 

     John, seeing the signal, drew Molly aside to distract her as Lestrade and his 5 men scurried up on deck and dashed into her quarters. On any normal given day, the captain’s quarters were strictly off limits unless one somehow managed to merit an invitation inside. This was no normal day, however, and they slipped inside without so much as a sound and without the captain noticing.

     As John brought his captain back around the mast, his cheeks practically burning with shame at the trick, Sherlock prayed against the captain’s suspicions as she watched John, trying to make some sort of explanation to his strange behavior around her. Sherlock found himself nearly moaning. Pull it together Watson, He urged silently, almost wishing that they were telepathic. They were close, and when John glanced at Sherlock, the first mate gave him such a meaningful and disdainful look that John instantly changed the subject, making sure that Molly was well invested before glancing back up at Sherlock who nodded and gave him an inconspicuous smile.

     Finally the anticipated moment arrived, with the Scarlet and company flanking them on all sides. Here Sherlock was beginning to sweat. He had anticipated that they would be flanked on both sides by the ships but not on all sides. This was wrong. He could only imagine Lestrade’s similar dismay at the plan’s ultimate failure.

    Failure? He shoved the word out of his mind. No, not failure. It would work out. Seeing Molly emerge from the captain’s quarters and eye the Scarlet letter as if she meant to make her move as soon as they weighed anchor, Sherlock abandoned his post for a moment to scurry down and intercept her. It has to.

     There suddenly came a loud cry from the Scarlet Letter, a command to yield or they would be blown out of the water. The entire crew stood listening, the blood having drained from their faces, as the warning was repeated. Molly jumped up onto the rail, not even having to grab onto anything for balance as she replied in a loud voice, “Who be the captain of this ship?”

     She didn’t have to ask. Everyone knew. The captain, dressed in a dark blue overcoat, stepped up onto his own rail and mirrored her pose.

     “Tha’d be me.” He greeted her, and the two locked gazes. When Molly’s words stuck in her throat, he offered a loud, “Hi!”

     Molly found her courage and forced out, “Mr. Moriarty, would you be open to having me come and negotiate the release of my ship and crew unto freedom?”

     The entire deck of Molly’s Baker went silent as Moriarty studied her. “Why should I?” He asked, “I don’t think you’re in much of a position to be negotiating, Miss Hooper.”

     “It’s me you want!” Molly cried. She then composed herself and called out to him, “I am asking that you take me and leave my ship and crew unharmed.”

     There was a gasp from all of the crew except for Sherlock and John, who exchanged grim glances. Moriarty looked pleasantly surprised, and cocked his head.

     “Indeed?”

     “Yes.” Molly’s gaze to the enemy was like steel. “You must leave my ship and crew unharmed.” She repeated.

      Moriarty stared at her for a long moment. Then he inclined his head. “Very well, Molly Hooper.”

      “Do I have your word?” Molly was going to extra lengths.

      Moriarty smiled. Then he removed his hat and, pressing it to his chest, bowed, almost mockingly. “You have my word.”

      “You must swear by it.” Molly wasn’t finished, for she had dealt with him and his double-crossing ways before. “Do you swear to leave my ship and crew unharmed?”

     Moriarty smiled again, as if enjoying her distress and answered without a beat, “I swear.”

     Molly took a deep breath then, and caught the rope that was tossed to her from the enemy ship. Her crew didn’t move, and most looked at Sherlock, as if expecting him to try and stop her. He noticed John’s ill-timed move for the captain’s quarters and stepped up to Molly to provide a distraction for the doctor’s move. He grabbed her wrist just as she was about to jump off. She turned, her face angry, and tried to pull away.

     “No, Molly, no, listen to me,” Sherlock was feigning panic, but didn’t have to act hard when he thought about what awaited her on that ship, “You don’t have to do this. Let me help, please, I-”

      “Sherlock,” She warned, “Let go.”

      “No.” As their gazes locked, he gulped, feeling a massive lump in his throat that he’d never experienced before. “You can’t leave me.”

      “Sherlock.” Molly’s eyes had filled with tears.

      “No. No. I need to…”

      “Need what, Sherlock?” Molly obviously wanted this done as soon as possible, but a hard-fought tear suddenly streaked down her face.

      “I need you.” He gasped.

      The following silence was terrible, made perfect only by Molly's leaning forward and kissing him. Sherlock thought he was going to fall over from the overwhelming feeling that was assaulting him but before he could even grab her to stop her, she had broken away and jumped off her ship to swing over to The Scarlet Letter. Moriarty’s men were instantly on top of her and she was dragged out of the crew’s sight. Molly's ship was silent for a very long time after she had been long gone from sight. The silence, then was broken by a massive boom, and Sherlock grinned.