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notchesandbullets · 4 years ago

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Wherever You Go, I Will Follow (Boxer! Metal Arm! Bakugou x Reader) Underground!AU

Art credit: @/helloclonion on Instagram

Warnings: violence, drinking (everyone is of age), hints of ptsd and depression, mentions of cloning norms, angst but fluffy ending.

Synopsis: Bakugou doesn’t like to talk about what happened to his left arm. Years of fighting underground had made him harder than nails. Society was messed up. Children weren’t born, they were made and any who aren’t adopted are raised in mass orphanages. But you’re special. And you’ve chosen the light even though you’ve seen the darkness. Who else to get through to his heart other than someone like you?

Words: 7.8k

The lights blind you momentarily as they flashed on. The humidity in such a crowded space packed with people was making your skin crawl but it was worth it for the greatly anticipated show.

An underground arena that had this much hype was rare since most fighters didn’t make it past their 20s due to injuries so severe from boxing that it cost them their lives.

There were zero qualified doctors here in the society riddled with old factories that didn't exist anymore and sleazy underground cities where nothing could grow anymore due to the pollution. It had fallen to ruin and only a select handful that could heal like they claimed to.

Due to that little insignificant fact, that meant the expected lifespan of everyone down here wasn’t more than 30 years of age.

Of course, it varied from section to section, but there was enough pattern to know that there wasn’t long to live once you got to your teens.

Therefore, everyone lived fast and hard down here, trying to experience as much as they could before it was their time to go.

And while you couldn’t say that you blamed them, that wasn’t how you wanted to live. You wanted to fight back against the norm and make a difference that would change this world.

Which is why you were so interested in this particular fighter.

Bakugou Katsuki.

A reformed individual with a criminal record after a looting with his crew went sideways. He was stronger than most with an attitude and ego bigger than the city itself.

He was renowned to be one of the baddest in the underground and had a personality as difficult as a cloned Siberian tiger.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. You didn’t know why Mic couldn’t come scout today instead of you, you hated how jam packed Bakugou’s fights got, which is why you always steered clear of them.

Well, that and because you weren’t exactly partial to his famed temper.

Then, the glint of metal had you on the edge of your seat, eyes sparkling with curiosity as you caught a better look the second time around as he stomped into the ring.

Was that… a metal arm?

It looked like something straight out of Marvel’s Winter Soldier from back in the day. Scarily so.

You faintly recalled that his opponent’s name was Shindou, supposedly the underground’s upcoming rising star to the top. His undefeated reputation preceded him and he certainly was easy on the eyes.

So why did you find your gaze drawn to the arrogant boxer with a cocky smirk on his face across from the guy that was cuter than him?

Metal arm flexing, sweat dripped down his brow, his crimson eyes narrowed in concentration and tinged with a hint of malice as his much larger rival took a swing at him to kick off the round.

Bakugou blocked it head on, retaliating with a force that sent him spiraling towards the cage. His wrapped hands were crusted with blood and he hastily brushed the dirtied, spiky hair that fell into his eyes out of his face, a ravenous hunger coming through as he bounced on the balls of his feet.

“Is that all you fucking got, extra?!” He screamed in Shindou’s face and you actually had to cover your ears at the sheer volume that carried through the stadium, egging him on.

Your mouth dried as Bakugou caught him across the jaw the second he flew at him, knocking out his opponent in one go, calling the match in under thirty seconds flat.

Holy shit, he’s good. You thought to yourself, thoroughly impressed, barely able to hear yourself over the crowd’s roar as Bakugou punched his fist in the air victoriously.

His technique seemed rough to the naked eye but taking a closer look, his form and tactics were flawless. His overall strategy could use a little work, since he seemed particularly keen on using brute strength, but he was really good at turning the tables on his opponent in an instant.

And really good at making sure that they couldn’t get up again after he threw them down.

You had your share of good fighters. Not like that, you dirty minded creature, you were a scout for your father’s gym.

Aizawa wasn’t a revered name by any means, but that didn’t mean he lacked skill. He was the one who could take down more people than any other pro could, but he absolutely hated media attention. Hence why almost no one knew of his abilities, other than a select few of his colleagues and fellow fighters.

And you of course. You were so incredibly proud of your him.

He had recently been scouting new talent after taking in several kids: Shinsou, Todoroki and Midoriya.

The female boxers in his ring were a literal force to be reckoned with. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen someone pack a punch with as much power as Uraraka when she got serious. And no one could beat Yaoyorozu when they stepped in the same arena as her.

In the underground, it was normal to come across those that talked big, but rarely have you ever seen them deliver.

This guy had some raw talent. Perfect.

Looks like Uncle Hizashi’s instinct was right.

After the fights ended and the exciting night came to a close, you wormed your way through the rows of people lining up to claim their bets that they had placed at the beginning of the night. You were at least smart enough not to get sucked into all that.

A cage match had too many variables. The odds could change in a split second, no matter how good or bad the fighter was. And since there were no rules, anybody could win.

You found the boxer in the designated fighters’ alcove security had put there especially for them to wind down. Here, they would be hidden away from the crowd and only the fighters knew about this spot aside from those that protected it.

“You’re good.”

Bakugou snorted, not looking up at the sound of your voice as he continued to unwrap the tape from his hands. “Of course I am, dumbass.”

You cocked an eyebrow at his arrogant attitude but after a fight like that, you guessed the pride was well deserved. After all, the guy he went up against was undefeated. No one had beat him and after Shindou earned his reputation of tearing the limbs off of the fighters he faced, no one wanted to step into the ring with him after that.

But Bakugou didn’t back away, even going so far as to taunt this guy, boldly proclaiming that he’d beat him.

Normally, you would brush off those guys as no good but he made good on what he said he would do, so you were at least a little bit curious.

A little.

You still didn’t like his attitude though.

Tossing the bloodied wraps in his bag, he ignored you as you just stood there like a lost puppy. People like you didn’t belong in the underground.

Soft.

Bakugou scowled and huffed scornfully, throwing his bandages down with a little more force than necessary.

Patching up wasn’t too bad this time around. He was lucky the round ended when it did though, that fucking extra had too much boisterous energy and willpower that had carried him this far. Still, it was better than fighting bare-knuckled.

There was a time when wraps or gloves weren’t allowed. People liked the blood and violence, and craved someone to come out victorious by taking the other’s life.

Fucking sickos if anyone asked him.

Bakugou slung his gym bag over his shoulder and shouldered his way past you since you had yet to say a word after that initial, begrudging praise. He couldn’t care less if you hung around but he wasn’t going to stick around for the damn media to catch whiff of this fight.

Once it was leaked that he had won, they would take a percentage of his cut and he would have to go without food for another week just to pay rent on that shitty place he stayed at.

It wasn’t much but it was better than the streets.

“Wait.” You called out, inwardly chastising yourself for being so pathetic.

You weren’t star-struck or nothing, so why were you feeling so tongue-tied?

Taking a deep breath when he snapped his head around to glare at you in annoyance for stopping him, you rolled your eyes when he tapped his foot impatiently.

“You gonna take all fucking night, extra?” Bakugou barked at you, clearly not playing around.

Your eyes widened as the metal plates on his left arm clinked together as he raised up his fist threateningly.

“I’ve got places to go and shit to do.” He grumbled. “So if you’re just going to stand there like a fucking—”

“Do you want to be a part of Aizawa’s gym?” You blurted out before he could get too carried away on his rant.

Bakugou arched an eyebrow in surprise. He hadn’t been expecting that. It was rare that the scruffy old man took on recruits.

Huffing, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and scrutinized you. “Who the hell are you?”

You cringed at how rough his voice laced with suspicion came out but you supposed you could understand.

Collectors were far too common these days, usually rich scouts from corporations that searched for talented fighters to partake in their financial war when it turned bloody.

You weren’t really sure how it was possible for those airheads to train delinquents into soldiers for their military to fight in the wars that they created, but all you were really concerned about was dodging those scouts.

They weren’t people to trifle with.

Bakugou’s suspicions were misplaced this time around though and you jutted out your hip, planting your hand on it as you regarded him disinterestedly.

There was only one thing that you could say to get him to trust you.

“He’s my dad.” You said quietly.

The boxer nearly choked on air and you flashed him a cheeky grin when he whipped his head around to glare at you.

“Fuck, seriously?”

You nodded and a heavy exhale whooshed out of his lungs in one breath.

Bakugou cocked up an eyebrow, seeing you in a completely different light. “Holy shit.”

You resisted the urge to dash away under his intrigue but you flinched when his eyes landed on you again.

“Sorry.” Bakugou muttered, averting his eyes. “Just never seen one before.”

You scratched the back of your neck, a habit you picked up from your introverted father whenever he was put in uncomfortable situations. “Yeah…”

Children weren’t born anymore, it was illegal. Partly because expenses couldn’t be covered if people got pregnant and partly because the kids would have nowhere to go, but mostly because the government wanted a controlled population.

By controlling the gene pool, they could create whoever and whomever they chose, placing them in different status’ around the world to fill in the gaps and create the perfect society.

Except, it really wasn’t all that perfect.

You had been a product of your mom and dad’s unconditional love for each other, something else that was also forbidden, especially in the underground cities where disease ran rampant and claimed numerous innocent lives everyday.

Your mother wasn’t dead but she did have to leave soon after you were born to protect you from the government officials that would come if she stayed.

Your dad was heartbroken but once every three years, the three of you were reunited under the bridge where seagulls cried and the waves crashed upon the shore.

Once upon a time.

Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest, his bicep bulging and you were willing to wager that he specifically got those measurements for his metal arm tailored to those specifications just so his huge muscles were distractingly the same size.

He was still not entirely convinced you were who you said you were. He knew that you had to at least be a bastard’s biological child, no one was bold enough or fucking stupid to say that much out loud, but he still wasn’t sure that the old man was your dad.

Not bothering to be discreet as he eyed you up and down, he motioned for you to give him a little more information.

“Aizawa, huh?” Bakugou drawled. “You don’t fucking look like a brat that belongs to him.”

Clearing your throat, you smirked. Now you were the one tapping your foot impatiently. “Thanks, I’m told I have my mother’s eyes.”

He glared at your sarcasm but you didn’t care.

Craning your neck to the side to get a better look at that beautiful arm of his, you pouted when he ducked out of range.

“Prove that he’s your dad.” He demanded and you feigned innocence before shooting him a grin when he rolled his eyes irritably.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you responded cheekily, “Coffee and cats are his two favorite things in the world, and he only tolerates Uncle Hizashi on a whim when he’s wasted.”

Bakugou barked out laughing and you smiled at the boisterous sound escaping from his lungs.

“So,” You kicked your feet, scuffing the dirt as you sidled over to him. “You in or what?”

His left arm glinted in the dim, flickering light of the alcove and he tucked in his chin the slightest bit to stare down at you, the corner of his mouth quirked up.

“Hell yeah.”

Exactly one year later, you were weaving in between the clustered bodies in the dingy underground bar you were at to make your way to the obnoxious and rowdy group in the back, all while balancing a tray of beers in one hand.

They had just arrived a few minutes ago, eagerly chatting with your dad, who was their trainer, even though he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else but here.

Your skirt flared around your ankles as you sashayed through the crowd dancing on the dancefloor, a couple strands of hair sticking to your forehead from the exertion of how many tables you waited on already.

“First round’s here!!” You announced, beaming brightly at the packed group of 15.

Shoji, Mineta, and a few others couldn’t make it due to conflicting schedules. But it was alright, they would come again another time. Besides, you were quite sure that a special someone couldn’t care less if they made it or not for this particular day.

“YES!!” Kaminari shouted escatically, throwing his hands up in the air.

A chorus of “thank you’s” came from the girls as Ashido eagerly reached for her first drink of the night, downing half the bottle in one go. You predicted she was going to be out like a light within the hour if she kept that pace up.

“Don’t get shitfaced, Kaminari.” Jirou twirled a strand of her dark hair cockily as she teasingly held the last one out of arm’s reach. “Lightweight.”

“Jirou!!” Kaminari protested while the table burst into laughter.

The edgy fighter eventually gave into him, shaking her head in disapproval when he proceeded to chug all of it straight like it was some kind of shot. A knowing smirk appeared on her face when he choked.

“Told you so.” She rubbed in his face as Asui leaned into her side.

“Shut up!!” Kaminari shouted between violent bouts of coughing. It only got worse when Ashido slapped his back, already drunk.

But the slight pink dusted across his cheeks clued you in on what he was really doing.

You shook your head. If he was any more dense, you would’ve smacked him upside the head. Maybe then he would’ve come to his senses and that he didn’t need to do all these things to impress her.

Jirou never hated anything more than someone who felt fake to her.

As you distributed the rest of the drinks to a clueless Todoroki, a way too eager Midoriya, and handed water to Koda, who thanked you shyly with a small nod.

You smiled at him, then left to the bar that your uncle was managing to get the order for the next table while Iida shouted for everyone to make sure they drank responsibly so that they didn’t cause any problems for you.

But it was largely ignored in favor of raising their beers in a toast for the birthday boy.

Bakugou scowled in the corner that he was shoved into, wondering why he of all people had to be dragged to this shitty celebration for a birthday he couldn’t care less about. It was too loud here and it was making his head hurt. The only consolation he got was that you were a rare sight, wearing a dress that he had bought for you a week ago.

The seamstress who had made it for him specifically had charged him an incredible amount of money for it, since fabric of any kind that wasn’t made from recycled garbage liners was nearly impossible to come by.

But being a part of the ring of fighters that made up Aizawa’s Warriors gave him credibility and enabled him to make even more money than he did before, so it wasn’t a problem.

That much.

After rent on his rundown place and scrounging for food, he had saved up the rest for weeks before he was able to afford the pale blue satin dress edged with delicate white lace around the sleeves that cascaded off your shoulders. The tightly-fitted bodice that wrapped around your waist was a simple leather corset, accentuating those curves of yours more than should be legally allowed.

You looked absolutely delicious.

You continued to sweep around the tavern, oblivious to the looks you were getting. You had a bit of expertise in waitressing due to the lack of income your dad was able to provide so you had to convince him that you really didn’t mind helping out with the staff tonight.

The bar, owned by your Uncle Hizashi, a retired fighter but not retired in spirit, had all the profits go to the orphanages the city couldn’t keep track of or be bothered to pay for; which enabled those kids who were abandoned to have a roof over their heads in all the uncertainty.

The state of those houses holding those homeless children were horrendous.

But your dad and uncle were taking steps to create something new that would provide them with some relief and a new family.

Kirishima clapped the ash-blond on the shoulder, jarring him out of his annoyance. “Come on, Bakugou, loosen up!!”

He clicked his tongue and scowled at the red-haired guy’s energy. No one would think that this fun-loving guy and people person would be such a terrifying fighter in the arena.

Kirishima frowned when he noticed his lack of enthusiasm. “C’mon man, I know this isn’t your scene but Y/N worked really hard on this.”

Bakugou’s drink nearly spilled as he set it down abruptly. He wasn’t expecting that. Aizawa had told him that his friends had arranged this.

Picking up on his confusion, Kirishima then proceeded to tell him about how you gathered everybody to ask if they’d be willing to attend the party and how all of them enthusiastically said yes. You had gotten special permission from your Uncle Hizashi to borrow the VIP section of his bar and convinced your father to go easy on their training today.

Really, the grumpy man with the metal arm should be thanking you since you were the reason all of them weren’t sore to death with barely enough energy to keep their heads up.

Kirishima was going to blame it on Aizawa. He was tough on them. Too tough. No one should be that determined to make their students push past their limits but everyone knew it came from him caring more than anyone else.

They were all like his adopted children, in a weird, skewed way. But, no one was going to argue against it. None of them had their biological parents in the picture.

Besides, Aizawa had enough room for them all to crash in his home. An abandoned mansion overrun with thick green vines but had no working electricity whatsoever looked like something straight out of one of those old horror movies back in the 3000s.

Bakugou scoffed. Like hell should he care about whether or not you planned this. He didn’t ask you to do any of this, you decided to do it all on your own.

“Whatever.” He grumbled, snatching his bottle before stalking away from his shocked friends left in the dust.

Todoroki raised an eyebrow as Kirishima sighed and Midoriya’s expression saddened when he saw him leave. They were supposed to be celebrating…

And yet, all three of them knew why today was so hard for the explosive boxer.

You frowned as you noticed the slumped figure retreating to the back of the establishment. Finishing up serving the drinks for the table you were waiting on, you briefly made a detour to your uncle and asked if it was alright that you take a break.

Ever the doting uncle who loved to spoil you rotten, Mic’s eyes softened understandingly when he noticed who you were staring after and granted you permission.

“Just don’t tell your dad I let you off the hook.” He bargained with an exaggerated wink and you giggled.

“I won’t.” You reassured, setting down the tray and squeezing his hand in thanks.

Then, you followed Bakugou.

He disappeared around the corner and as soon as you tailed him, you came to a stop in front of a heavy door. Your brow furrowed, wondering why he would be coming here.

Step after familiar step you took until you eventually came to a standstill on the roof.

Behind you, the heavy door slammed close but it sounded different than usual. Something metal crashed into it, denting it by the sounds of it, and it wasn’t until you turned around that you found Bakugou’s vermilion eyes boring into yours.

The wind was stronger up here and you pinned your arms down to your side, knowing full well from experience how mortifying it would be if your skirt decided to flip up right now.

“What the fuck are you doing up here?” He snapped angrily.

To his surprise, you didn’t look the least bit fazed by his outburst.

“I live here.” You responded nonchalantly, undeterred by his characteristic abrasiveness.

If Bakugou was startled at that revelation, he didn’t show it. If anything, he looked even more irked, though you didn’t know why. He didn’t have any reason to suspect you of lying but in this world, it was safer to be skeptical than sorry.

However, you hadn’t given him one reason to doubt you the entire year you’ve known him. Not one.

So if anything, he trusted you more than the majority of the rats in his rundown city and just as much as his small circle of extras.

Picking your way past him carefully since the roof didn’t have a safety rail, you made your way towards the curtained tent hiding behind the generator. Pushing the tattered material back, you showed him the bedroll and small table set up with a few bottles of water, a case of beer and a worn book.

Bakugou’s mouth dropped open but he recovered quickly so by the time you turned back around, he had the same indifferent, kind of irritated look on his face.

Then, he was a bit at a loss of what to do. It wasn’t often he was faced with the dilemma of being wrong so blatantly. Should he apologize? Even when he didn’t say anything but the thought that you were crazy ran through his head? Should he apologize for something you weren’t even aware of?

Nah, fuck that.

You gingerly took a seat at the edge of the roof, leaning back on your hands as your legs dangled. Patting the spot next to you invitingly, a soft smile curved on the corners of your mouth as he grumbled but came over anyway. He plopped down on your right side and you took a moment to study him.

He looked exhausted, spirit whittled down to the bone until there was nothing left for him to salvage. His eyes were bloodshot and the beer bottle in his hand probably wasn’t doing any favors for him.

Glancing at him out of the corner of your eyes, you asked worriedly, “You okay?”

He huffed in annoyance at your question.

“Fine.” He ground out through clenched teeth and you shut your mouth.

Bakugou clearly wasn’t looking to talk but you yearned to help. You wanted to be there for him.

Kirishima hadn’t told you much, only that the incident that took Bakugou’s arm happened a long time ago and wasn’t something he liked to relive.

You didn’t push it. You had your own share of traumatic experiences in this god-forsaken place and hated nothing more than being forced to talk about by a well meaning friend. So you understood it well.

Instead of pushing the topic, you sat with him in silence. You didn’t ask why he walked away from the party or why it looked like he was drowning himself in his sorrows to forget something, you just offered him a quiet place to sit, with the company of yours truly.

Fate was flawed. You knew that ever since you were born.

The warped sense of justice that the city had was suffocating. People were put away in prison only to be left to rot with no chance of redemption. Those that made it out were casted out to the underground with no hope to see the light.

Combatants-for-hire wasn’t an unusual job to take on in the ruined city. All Might knew you too had been mixed up in some shit.

But it was what made you strong in the end.

“I’m here.” Was all you said softly, staring out at the city lights that were especially illuminating tonight.

Thanks to the heavy pollution, the stars could no longer be seen with the naked eye so this was the closest thing you could get to those twinkling lights raised high in the sky.

“It’s funny.”

You tilted your head towards him as he spoke and was a bit surprised to find him looking directly back at you with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher.

His eyes were a little dazed, probably from the alcohol, but he looked a little more grounded than he did a minute ago.

Bakugou chuckled but it was short and grated against your ears for a second.

It was mocking.

He tipped his head back, downing the rest of his drink before harshly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand while he crushed the bottle in his metal fist.

Leaning over, he let go and let the shiny crystals plummet to the ground below.

You smiled faintly, watching how they sparkled. It looked so pretty.

Sitting back down, Bakugou mimicked your posture and huffed out a dry laugh. “Out of all the shitty extras in the world, you would be the only one to fucking get through to me.”

Your puzzlement must’ve shown through his alcohol-induced haze because the next thing you knew was that he teetered to the side as he lost control of his equilibrium and careened into you.

Out of reflex, you caught him and gasped at the temperature difference as his cold metal arm pressed against you. You could feel it through the thin fabric of your dress and latched onto it when he moved to pull away.

“Sorry.” Bakugou slurred curtly as he gathered his bearings and tried to detangle you from him.

But his coordination wasn’t the best and he was growing more and more frustrated when you wouldn’t let go.

He snarled. “Let go.”

You shook your head firmly. “You could fall.”

Oh yeah. You two were on the roof.

This was a bad idea.

He didn’t know how he ended up here with you but he needed to leave. Immediately.

Bakugou stumbled to his feet, somehow managing to lose his way halfway to the door and face-planted in something that smelled faintly of lavender. Snuggling into the soft thing that was rubbing against his face, his brow furrowed in annoyance as you giggled at him.

“You have to take me out on a date first if you want that.” You teased lightly and he immediately sat up as he realized he had crashed in your bed.

He scrambled upright, nearly falling over again in his haste. “Fuck, I’m—”

“It’s alright, Katsuki.” You reassured nonchalantly, coming down to sit beside him, but not close enough where your legs were touching.

Bakugou’s mouth twitched at the sound of his first name but his eyes softened the barest bit and he didn’t fight against it.

Before he met you, he hated his name. It was a reminder that the place he came from was from a lab, cooked up like some sort of sick science experiment to fulfill a role in society that was chosen by some prick who had money.

It was a reminder that he wasn’t real. That he was expendable to all those bastards that ran the world.

But when you used it, when you spoke it with such tentative curiosity and genuine concern, he didn’t feel so unimportant anymore.

“Fuck.” Bakugou breathed as you leaned closer to examine his face.

Your forehead creased in worry and you raised a hand to his head to check his temperature to make sure he wasn’t running a fever. “Are you feeling alright?”

Squeaking when he suddenly grabbed your hand, you gasped in shock when he tugged you towards him.

You crashed into his chest and your cheeks flushed hotly as his chiseled form honed from years of training molded against your front.

His arm wrapped around your shoulders and it took a second to realize that his metal arm was planted firmly on the ground, keeping the two of you steady.

But when you reached out your fingers to brush against it, he ripped away from you.

You pulled back immediately, apology weighing in your gaze as your eyes flicked away from him. “I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s fucking hideous.”

You balked at his tenor. “W-What?!”

Bakugou looked away from you, his gaze fixed on the ground behind you as he rested his chin on top of your head, stubbornly refusing to look you in the eye as you breathed steadily against the base of his neck.

You were warm. Delicate.

Precious.

He didn’t expect someone like you to understand.

His vermilion eyes were shadowed by the ghosts of his past that continued to haunt him and he sighed heavily, curling his arm around you tighter. He didn’t want to let you go just let but he didn’t know why you weren’t pushing him away.

Your soft voice rang out. “Katsuki, what do you mean? It’s not hideous at all.”

He clicked his tongue but otherwise didn’t verbalize his disagreement.

“How could someone like you possibly understand this shit?” He spat but you didn’t recoil like he was half hoping you would.

At least then he would have an excuse to leave, under the guise that he had upset you. But you didn’t do any of that.

Too fucking precious. Always saw the good in everything just like that shitty nerd.

You closed your eyes in defeat. “No… I suppose I can’t.”

You didn’t quite understand him.

The bite in his tone sounded like you had hit too close to home, and yet, his thumb was absentmindedly running over the satin of your dress that he had bought you, your side heating up under his chest and warmth bloomed from your heart.

And yet, he wasn’t pushing you away.

Leaning down, you rested your forehead against his shoulder, your heart beating too loud for your own ears. “You don’t have to say anything, but I know what it feels like to be an outcast too.”

Bakugou eyed you cautiously, wondering if this was some sort of trick because he was drunk and definitely not as attentive as normally but your tone was open.

Honest.

“Yeah, maybe you do.” He scoffed, scorning you under his breath. “Maybe you don’t. It doesn’t fucking matter to me.”

“Maybe it doesn’t.” You whispered, tracing patterns on his chest as your head lolled to the side to gaze at him with complete vulnerability. “But just know that you aren’t alone.”

Bakugou whipped his head around as you stared at him. Didn’t you get it already? He didn’t want to fucking taint you with all of this shit that went on down here.

He didn’t want to tell you that he had to settle tinkering with whatever scrap metal he could find in the junkyard just to make his left arm operational again, didn’t want to tell you that the government had offered him a real replacement prosthetic but at the cost of becoming one of their combatants fighting in a war he never chose and as a result, he was casted to the side when something went wrong.

He had lost everything.

The second he had been tossed out on the street, he had come crawling back to Kiko, a spunky little girl a part of the UA orphanage in the east, one of the ones that Mic funneled money towards to fund their food and supply them with fresh water every three days.

The girl, no more than ten at the time, with her dirty blonde pigtails sticking out on either side of her lopsided head, had been born with a unique appearance.

The officials called it a defect, as though they were talking about an object of mass production.

Fucking disgusting.

It never seemed to bother the girl though, and she often claimed that she was tougher than all those men in fancy suits. Bakugou liked her spirit already.

Kiko had had this habit of tracing her stubby little fingers all over the scars from his fights whenever he came to visit and it had been her idea to forgo a realistic prosthetic from the corporation that was looking to hire him and just go out, full badass, just like Bucky in the Winter Soldier.

It was her favorite movie but Bakugou claimed he had absolutely no idea where she learned that kind of language from.

He had chuckled and patted her on the head at the time, swearing to hell and back that there was no fucking way he was going to build a metal arm. He would scare the kids if he did that, not to mention, full-grown adults.

But Kiko simply bounded over to him and beamed up at him like nothing was wrong in the world. It was fucking contagious, begging for him to at least consider it, selling the point of how cool it would look.

“You would be a superhero, Bakugou!!” She cheered, raising her hands up high, demanding for him to lift her up even though she wasn’t five anymore. “And you could save everybody, just like you want to!!”

He never got a chance to show her the finished product. Would she have liked it? Would she run around, screaming in his shitty apartment as she played with it when he detached it for cleaning? Would she try to hit him over the head with it when she thought he wasn’t looking like the cheeky brat he knew that she was?

Bakugou could hear her squeals of excitement so vividly some nights that he woke up from his terror of that night, soaked in cold sweat from a memory of the girl he had failed to save.

Defeated and overwhelmed by his circumstances after being rejected by the very people who sought him out because of his talent, he had ventured to the orphanage that night and on a whim, demanded her to live with him. He would take care of her, protect her, teach her things that she couldn’t learn from anyone else.

The widest smile he had ever seen stretched across Kiko’s face and she accepted his demands with eyes tearing up with joy.

He vowed to protect her.

He failed.

He had an unsettled score with the government officials he had upset on his way out from the lab that day they told him he had been scraped from the program.

The enraged fighter went on a rampage, tearing down anything in his path and clearing out the experiment rooms, offering freedom and a second chance to anyone willing and brave enough to take it.

And as a result, many took him up on his offer and fled that place with white walls and food too bland to actually be considered nutritious.

There was no doubt about it. He pissed them off the day he saved the others.

They had come for her and taken her last year on his birthday as revenge for freeing those they were experimenting on. He found a crumpled, poorly wrapped, newspaper covered package lost in the clutter of his apartment when he got home.

The creaking old door that kept out winter drafts had caved in, signifying that it had broken in with considerable force, and Kiko was gone.

That crushed gift hidden under the stairwell was the only thing that remained of her.

Inside, there was a small metal pin in the shape of an explosion. For his personality. Corny, but the little girl was simple-minded and liked the sentiment she found in things that she repurposed.

Bakugou always thought it was fucking weird but he hadn’t taken it off ever since that day.

The metal plates of his arm glided, clinking together softly as the polished steel lifted to trace your jaw, the pin visible on the inside of his wrist.

To keep her close to him always.

He had stormed their stronghold but by the time he got there, they were gone. Everything.

Every vial, all the equipment, every single one of the samples and officials had disappeared into thin air.

Bakugou had tried everything to track Kiko down, paying off the highest crime organizations to get more eyes out on the street but nothing worked. She was gone.

And she wasn’t ever going to come back.

You were silent when he finished telling you his depressing life story, sure you were bored to death but when he started to get up, he found that he couldn’t get very far with you draped over his body like this.

Bakugou had a fleeting thought that you had fallen asleep while he had been lamenting and rehashing every depressing detail from his past but he noticed the stuttering rise and fall of your back.

Well, at least you weren’t asleep, but now he didn’t know how to feel when he had told you all of that and you had yet to say anything.

“I know you don’t want pity.” You whispered into his shoulder.

He raised an eyebrow but waited for you to continue.

“I know there’s nothing that I can say that would make the pain go away or bring Kiko back,” You said softly. “But I’m here for you.”

Bakugou pressed his cheek against your hair and inhaled your sweet scent, closing his eyes as an unseen weight lifted from off of his shoulders.

“Thank you.” He murmured quietly with great difficulty.

You smiled slightly, glad that you were able to provide him with a little bit of comfort. “Anytime.”

The two of you stayed entwined for a few more moments, time stretching as he held onto you, soaking up your soothing presence while you relaxed against his hold.

“Katsuki?” You called quietly when he still didn’t let go after five more minutes.

Tightening his arm around you, he frowned when you struggled in his grip.

“Stop fucking moving.” He demanded and you ceased fighting in favor of pulling back to flick him on the forehead. “Oi, did you just fucking flick me?!”

“Yes.” You replied bluntly, snickering when he rolled his eyes.

There he was.

Bakugou protested hotly when you pushed down his arms to untangle from him but you shushed him with a giggle, leaning back to open the box of beer by your bed, grabbing two bottles and fishing for something from underneath your pillow

In the underground city where liquor was the only thing that was plentiful, you would take what you could get.

Bakugou caught the beer that you threw at him in midair with an expression a mix between annoyance that you tossed it at his face and gratitude that you knew how he needed another drink after that tale.

“What the fuck is that for?” He scoffed, pointing to the roll of gauze in your hand. “You get a papercut or some shit?”

You rolled your eyes in disbelief, failing to notice how his eyes raked over you to look for any kind of injury you might be hiding from him, and held it up to him. “No, but it looks like you did.”

He almost spilled his beer that he just popped the lid off of, mouth furrowing in a deep-seated frown when he followed your gaze and landed on the cuts on his knuckles from the fight that happened earlier that night.

“Fuck.” He cursed, setting down the beer hard to wipe up the blood.

He hadn’t even known when he got hurt.

But he didn’t even get started on tending to it when your gentle hands wrapped around his and you took over for him.

“Here.” You murmured, pouring some water onto a clean cloth and dabbing carefully at his cuts. “Let me.”

“You’re fucking weird.” Bakugou grumbled but allowed you to take over.

Your touch was so much lighter than the rough pads of his fingers. He was always too impatient whenever he had to patch himself up, jerking at the bandages to get them to lay flat when they wouldn’t cooperate.

It was a fucking pain to stop the bleeding when his shitty fingers fumbled with it. It was a trip to hell and back every single time he had to attend to wounds he got from boxing.

Your nose scrunched up in concentration as you finished cleaning the area before securely wrapping the soft cotton around his knuckles.

“There.” You declared in satisfaction, sitting back on your knees.

Admiring your handiwork with an unreadable expression, it was a second before Bakugou nodded begrudgingly with thanks.

“It’s not complete shit.”

You giggled. “Thanks.”

He picked back up his drink and took a swig.

Offering up yours, you hid your surprise when he actually recognized the gesture and clinked his glass against yours.

The distinct hum from the music in the establishment below filtered up to the roof, filling the silence and the occasional echo of steel grating against each other. The low lights were pleasant and the ambiance was soothing as you two drank away the night.

You shivered, catching a chill as the night air blew by, but before you could reach for your blanket, Bakugou was tucking you in his side.

“Get over here, dumbass.” He mumbled, turning his face away so that you wouldn’t see his blush. “You’re gonna get fucking sick.”

You noticed how he still kept your metal arm away from you. That wound was still too fresh and somehow you had a feeling that no matter how much time would pass, things would never quite be the same again.

Playing with the hem of your dress, you smiled softly. “But I wanted to wear it today, it was a special occasion.”

Special occasion his ass. It was fucking freezing out here and all you were wearing was that summer dress. His brow knitted as you puffed out your cheeks, breath visible, and he wasn’t so sure he wanted to leave you out here when it was so cold out.

“I’m sorry.” Bakugou apologized quietly as you lost interest in toying with the pale blue satin and folded your hands neatly in your lap.

At your questioning gaze, he suppressed the urge to roll his eyes but heat crept up his neck.

“For storming out on the celebration you planned, dumbass.” He grumbled, flicking you on the forehead in a similar fashion hat you had done earlier.

Whining, you held onto your forehead as you made an exaggeration of pain. He rolled his eyes at your antics and you giggled, snuggling further into his side.

“You’re warm.” You mused.

Bakugou scowled, cheeks still pink from the embarrassment tingling through his whole body. “Oi, are you fucking ignoring m—”

“Of course not.” You retorted, pinching his side in retaliation for the flick he gave you before your voice dropped a little. “It’s just— There isn’t anything you need to apologize for. I understand.”

Those words, they were so simple and yet, warmth bloomed in his chest from how they fell from your lips.

And he could see that you were truly genuine.

He had rejected your kindness earlier when Kirishima had told him you had planned out all of this for him. He had never quite been accustomed to generously that lacked a price or some kind of condition.

Then again, he had never met someone quite like you.

As you rested against his shoulder, Bakugou took the empty beer bottle from you and placed it on the other side of him so that you didn’t break it and cut yourself when you woke up from your little nap.

He gazed out into the city that had caused him so much misery and wondered how it was even possible for someone like you to exist.

Birthdays, he still hated them, but maybe, just maybe, he could start to heal.

It would start by telling that old man that you fucking needed a new place to sleep that wasn’t the goddamn roof.

It was a good thing he knew just the place you could go.

Brushing back the hair out of your eyes, he allowed a small smile to form on his face as you breathed softly, evenly and he smirked against the top of your head as a thought crossed his mind. And even though he knew you couldn’t hear him, he still murmured quietly.

“How do you feel about seagulls and sand, princess?”

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tainted-wine · 5 years ago

Text

I hope you don’t mind this being exclusive for the Pro-Heroes!

(NSFW)

Papers? Check. Writing utensils? Check. Lube? Check.

You were primed and ready to begin this cocktastic journey. Completing this project will be a great benefit to Thirstology. You can’t believe that they put their trust in you to collect such valuable information from several willing participants. There’s no way you’re going to let the people at National Thirst Studies down.

With your lower body completely bare, you and your ambitious pussy set out to begin the cockwarming interviews.

Yagi Toshinori/All Might

Pre-Notes: The Symbol of Peace. It’s still surreal to see him in such a fragile state. Strangely enough, I never once asked myself: Does All Might fuck? “Obviously he was too pure for fucking,” is what I would have said before I devoted my life to Thirst Studies. But I have learned over the years that there is no such thing as purity.

------

After he got over the initial shock of you wearing no pants or underwear, you were finally able to begin your study and ask him the main question.

You barely dodged the spray of blood spewing out of his mouth. “Am I into what?” He sputtered.

“Cockwarming, sir. The act of settling a penis in a nice cozy orifice. There’s no movement, only penetration. Surely you already at least knew the definition when you agreed to this?” You offered him a paper towel, which he accepted with a choked “thank you.”

“Midnight told me this would be about intimate relationships,” he anxiously explained while wiping the red off of his lips. “But I wasn’t expecting to hear something that graphic.”

Ah, so he was talked into this. “Well, with your permission, I can give you a personal demonstration.”

His answer was inaudible the first time; you had to ask him to speak up in order to hear his adorably high “yes.” He was a lot shyer than you imagined. Poor guy was shaking like he was on a verge of a heart attack when you took his cock out and boy, did he put the ‘long’ in ‘schlong.’ But your mission wasn’t to admire the dick’s appearance, it was to learn how their owners used them inside a hot snatch. You climbed onto him and lowered yourself and ooooh shit, both of you were moaning as his inches sank into you. You couldn’t take it all, but it was more than enough to get the job done.

“Mmnngh, yes, very long. Pushing almost painfully,” You said through clenched teeth, scribbling in your notepad as you sat semi-comfortably in his lap. “Can you give me your input, Toshinori? How is this feeling for you?”

“Blrraaaffggg.”

“Toshi?”

“…”

He laid limp in the interview chair as crimson liquid continued to flow from his mouth. Well, this is troublesome. You’ll have to wait for him to regain consciousness to hear his feedback.

------

Conclusion: This was his first time experiencing cockwarming. He described it as ‘intense, but not unpleasant’. Unfortunately, whenever I ask for more details, he would get too embarrassed to share anything. Frankly, this isn’t the most fruitful start to my series of interviews, but it was a great privilege to meet the amazing All Might.

Shouta Aizawa/Eraserhead

Pre-Notes: I honestly don’t even know who the hell this is. An underground hero, apparently. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you that he brought a cat with him. I told him that it needs to stay outside during the interview, but the difficult bastard was ready to turn around and leave unless I allowed the furball in. What a hassle. Do I even want to sit on this man?

------

You’re thankful that you did, in fact, sit on this man. His sleek ebony cat was relaxing in your lap while your pink kitty was stuffed with his cock. Despite his indifference to the situation, it was strangely intimate. Taking notes over a cute feline while his length twitched inside you was rather challenging.

“You seem like a rather exhausted fellow. Is it maybe the laid-back nature of the act that you find so alluring?” You asked.

“Mmhmm.” His arms circled around you to stroke his adorable pet.

“Being able to just wind down by giving your hard snake a wet hot crib to rest in?”

“Mmmmm.”

“I would appreciate a more elaborate answer.”

“Mmmmm...”

You shifted just enough to turn your head and see Aizawa’s head lolled back, his breaths getting heavier after each exhale. You can feel him quickly going soft inside you.

Ugh...

------

Conclusion: Given that he fell asleep in the middle of the demonstration, it’s safe to say that he finds the act very relaxing. I can only make guesses because the moment he woke up, he hurried me off his lap, picked up his cat and headed out. I did my best to chase him and ask if I could at least hear his final thoughts, but that bastard leaps on cars and buildings as skillfully as Edgeshot.

Hizashi Yamada/Present Mic

Pre-Notes: I’m not sure what to expect from the Voice Hero. His radio show has hosted some surprisingly insightful interviews. Unlike the last two, he will hopefully have some truly constructive answers to give.

------

“Not gonna lie, I always wanted to try this!”

Both of you were red in the face as you sat on his throbbing cock. Despite the blush and slight shake in his voice, he was as cheerful as ever. “Sometimes I just wonder, it would be pretty cool to just have a hottie warmin’ me up during my show, ya dig? No sex, though. I know I’m not quiet enough to get away with that on the air!” He laughed loudly right into your ear.

Well that kinda hurt, but it’s nice to finally have a fully cooperative interviewee. You were actually able to ask all of your planned questions for once, and Hizashi gave a satisfying answer to each one.

Unfortunately, it just couldn’t go perfectly, and his phone ended up ringing near the end of the interview.

“Hold on, listener. I gotta take this.”

Did he really? You wished he would wait until you were done.

You felt him lean back as you remained on his lap. “Shouta, buddy! What’s goin’ on?”

Shouta? Does he mean...?

“Sorry about that! I’m not home yet, I’m doin’ a...special interview, with a hard-working thirstologist.” You heard the voice on the other end respond, and Hizashi made a noise of confusion. “Eh? What do you mean ‘you too?’”

Oh dear, he does. They actually know each other.

The conversation quickly transformed into an argument, a loud one. The two heroes apparently have some...tension between them.

“Oh, so I throw hints at you for years and you act as innocent as your cats, but you’ll sit down and let a girl hop on your dick during an interview?!”

You had to lift yourself off of his softening member and take shelter from his booming voice. He was tucking himself back into his pants with one hand as he marched out of the room, but his hurt and anger was still loud and clear. “Don’t give me that bull. I bet if I hit you with twenty one questions about cockwarming, you’d just pretend you’re asleep! Oh, you actually did fall asleep? Huh.”

You awkwardly collected your notes as the two gentlemen were seemingly making up.

“Damn right I’ve always felt this way. Oh man, you better get ready tonight because I’ve got over ten years of pent up feelings, and you’re gonna take it all.”

------

Conclusion: It feels good to have a full interview. In summary, Hizashi is intrigued by the combination of closeness and casualness of it all. His interest in cockwarming during his jobs also indicate a possible thrill out of doing it in public. In addition, I’d like to announce with some pride that I may have assisted in taking two friends to the next level of their relationship.

Hawks

Pre-Notes: I’m eager to hear what the handsome winged hero has to say. I wouldn’t mind if we just stare at each other throughout the entire interview. My lust for him is unbearably strong and I’m not sure why. It’s probably just the horny writer’s obvious bias towards this bird. She could use another hobby.

------

Hawks laughed once you gave him the question that officially begins the interview. “Gotta admit, I’ve actually never tried it.”

That’s a surprise that you quickly jot down in your notes. “I see. Is it something you’re interested in trying? I can give you a demonstration right here.”

“Oh? I’d love one.”

You try not to look too excited as you leave your seat and move to undo his pants, but Hawks raises a hand.

“But I want you to do it on your knees.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “My knees? How do I-”

“With your mouth.”

Oh my.

You granted his request and kneeled down to take his half-hard cock into your mouth.

“Ahhh, that’s nice.” He sighed loudly, spreading his legs more as he stared down at you.

You detached your mouth from him to speak. “Can you tell me what it is that you-mmffrrf.”

A hand pushed you back down onto his man meat. “No no no, just...stay right there. I’ll do the talking in a minute.”

You sat there with his cock growing in the heat of your mouth. Hawks’s eyes were closed, a small content smile on his face. Every time you lifted your head just an inch, the hand on your head pressed you back down. Just when this interview was starting to feel more like a hookup, he finally began to talk.

“Oh yeah, I’ve fantasized stuff like this. You got a shitty boss? I do, don’t tell them I said that, though. They’re always finding something to get on my ass about. Working me like a dog everyday, expecting me to pull off these insane missions flawlessly.”

All you could do was look up and listen to his rant. He must have loved the sight of you, going by the strong twitch of his length in your mouth.

“They just keep asking more and more from me. ‘Do this faster next time, Hawks!’ or ‘I know you’ve never done something like this before, but don’t fail us, Hawks!’ Sometimes I just wanna shove something in their mouths...like my dick. Can you relate?”

You shook your head as well as you could in your current position.

He shrugged. “Oh well. As far as I know, I’ll always be the one getting fucked by them. But something like this...” He pat your head. “Ah yeah, it would be so nice to see them like this...”

------

Conclusion: Hawks was sadly short on time and had to leave before I could even get into the questions. Going by the very personal feelings and frustrations he shared, Hawks enjoys the dominance displayed from cockwarming, and prefers it be done orally. I will respect his wishes and not reveal any of the opinions that he shared about the establishment he works for and its executives.

Taishiro Toyomitsu/Fat Gum

Pre-Notes: It’s best that I continue to be honest: I’m anxious. Fat Gum is one of the biggest heroes around, and I just know that there is a deadly pillar of pussy destruction in those pants. I know that I should be more concerned with the questions, but it just won’t leave my mind.

------

“So, what experience do you have with this, Toyomitsu?”

The large man chuckled. He was currently in his skinny form, which you’re pretty thankful for since his fat form would have been beyond awkward to straddle. That would be like trying to hump one of those giant inflatable characters at parades. “A pretty lady I knew was really into it! I tried it for her sake, but I’ll say this with no ego, my sausage ain’t something to be taken lightly! Still, she was determined, and I was really digging just how strong her will was to take me.”

‘She sounds like a very brave soul,‘ you thought as your pen glided across your paper.

“I couldn’t believe it when she managed to get all of me inside. She couldn’t either, because she passed out! At first I just wanted to laugh it off,” he cackled as if to give an example, but his face quickly drooped into a somber expression. “But then I realized she wasn’t breathing...” His eyes shut in pain and sorrow. “And I couldn’t find a pulse...”

You nearly dropped your pen in horror. “My goodness, Toyomitsu. I’m so sor-”

“I’m just messin’ with ya! She’s fine!” His face immediately brightened up again, leaving you shocked and somewhat upset over the scare. “But seriously, if you want a seat on this big boy, I hope you’ve got plenty of lube on hand.”

“Don’t worry, I do. More than enough for the biggest flesh towers.”

But your doubts instantly returned when the bulging monster was freed from his pants. It’s huge. Toshinori may have been long, but this monster was unbelievable in both length and girth.

Your fear must have been evident on your face, because Toyomitsu asked, “You sure you wanna do this? Don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

You whipped out your bottle of lube and drenched your hands. “Thirstology is my passion. My life’s work. I am more than willing to put my life on the line for science.”

The hero raised an eyebrow. “It’s...not that serious, but I really like your guts, missy.” He gave himself a few strokes. “So let me tear them up.”

Even with the coatings of lube inside your pussy and on his massive cock, this was still the most arduous task you have ever performed in your life. You didn’t know it was possible to be stretched this far. The light blonde was mesmerized by your trembles and scrunched expressions and as you tried to take more of him, his mouth slightly open when he noticed the swell in your lower abdomen.

“Oh, that is hot.”

------

Conclusion: I did it. I took the Fat Gun. Fat Gum himself takes a lot of pleasure in watching the strain of someone trying to take him in, and due to his partner often being much smaller than him, the tightness is very pleasurable to him. He was the only interviewee that actually came during the demonstration, so I suppose it’s safe to say that he is the biggest fan of cockwarming out of the five. He was very panicked when he came inside me, but I reassured him that I am on the pill. This is still a hell of a mess to clean up, however.

(I hope the information I have obtained will be useful for the institute. Thank you for giving me this opportunity)

#asks #smut #all might #shouta aizawa #hawks #present mic #fatgum #yagi toshinori #keigo takami #yamada hizashi #i got more invested in this as i went on #also how the hell do you write fatgum

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bimboamyrose · 4 years ago

Text

On The Scarlett Sea - Part 1 / 2

A ~Pirate~ Metamy Fanfic - [Link to Part 2] - [AO3 Link]

Synopsis When the world learns of a secret pirate treasure plundered from the Knuckles Clan’s ancient ruins over 300 years ago, Knuckles enlists the help of his friends, Amy and Tails, to retrieve and hide its most powerful artifact- a mysterious mirror that allows the user to become their most desired self. He isn’t the only one after the treasure, however; As Metal Sonic discovers the existence of the mirror, he forms his own crew of “pirates” to take it for himself. Along the way, he separates Amy from her friends and convinces her to help him make his greatest dream a reality- but what is that, really?

In collaboration with @mmm-asbestos & their pirate Metamy AU Merry Xmas / Happy holidays and stay well~

Part 1

There were few things Knuckles regretted more in life than meeting the self-proclaimed “World's Greatest Thief,” Rouge. As such, Amy knew she was in for a rant the minute she answered his call at the crack of dawn and heard him utter the bat’s name.

“Rouge is in the news!” he yelled into the receiver.

“Wha…” Amy rubbed her eyes. It was still dark out.

“Haven’t you seen the papers this morning?”

“You get newspapers on Angel Island?” she yawned.

“Turn on the news! This is important!”

“Alright, calm down...” Amy slid out of bed sleepily, still yawning as she flipped her living room TV on and threw herself onto the couch groggily. A news channel was running a segment on an archeological discovery that seemed to be making waves. Amy turned it up so Knuckles could hear on the other end.

“The centuries-old hiding place was found by none other than world-famous treasure hunter, Rouge the Bat. The former jewel thief was hired for her skills-”

“Former jewel thief?! Where are they getting their sources?”

“Quiet, I can’t hear!” Amy raised the volume further to drown out his yelling.

“- the discovery of a lifetime! We had an exclusive interview with the mastermind who helped find this historical treasure. Here’s what she had to say:”

Footage of Rouge sitting in a lavish armchair next to a roaring fireplace followed. “Well, you’ll be interested to hear that this isn’t the famed Captain Scarlett's treasure. It was a personal stash of journals and letters her wife left behind.

The camera cut briefly to a reporter sitting across from her. “And we understand that a possible map to the famous pirate’s real treasure was hidden among this?”

“That’s correct. I spent some days analyzing the documents and discovered they contain instructions on how to reach Captain Scarlett’s treasure. There are some hints as to what’s contained at the site as well. I’ll be sailing there with a crew in a few days!”

“Can you give us an idea of what you believe to find there?”

“Untold riches, of course!” Rouge gave a breathy laugh. “And perhaps some old artifacts- I understand she had an interest in ancient cultures,” she waved dismissively. “We’ll find out soon enough- I’m confident it’ll take no time to navigate there.”

“And we’ll be here on land waiting with bated breath for the historical discovery! Now back to-”

Amy muted the TV, her eyes finally adjusting to the dim early morning light. “So she was hired to find some old pirate treasure? Is that what you’re upset about?”

“The treasure she was hired to find happens to contain an ancient Knuckles Clan artifact! You need to get the others and come to Angel Island right away-”

“You’re mad about the possibility that Rouge will find some antique?”

“Antique! Amy-” she could hear him trying to restrain himself. “Listen to me, if this ‘treasure’ falls into the wrong hands, it’s going to be a mess to clean up. Get Sonic and Tails and come here as soon as you can. They’re not answering my calls and we need to speak in person.”

Amy groaned. It was far too early to be thinking about a new dangerous adventure- especially when they’d just stopped one of Eggman’s plots less than a week earlier. “Fine… at least let me have some breakfast first.”

“Make it quick!” he hung up.

“And they say I’m bossy,” Amy grumbled to herself. Before long, the sun’s rays shone brightly throughout her house and sleeping in no longer sounded comfortable. With a sigh, she got ready for the unexpected day ahead.

-----

“I never knew there was a catacomb under the altar…” Amy held a lantern out in front of her as she climbed down the steps.

“That’s ‘cause it’s a secret,” Knuckles responded gruffly. “Come on, I shouldn’t have to tell you to hurry it up!!”

Sonic and Tails trailed behind in a sleep-deprived state. They’d stayed up until morning playing games and were just getting to bed when Amy pounded on the lab door to retrieve them. She still wasn’t sure how Tails managed to land the plane on Angel Island. “Relax, Knux…” Sonic rubbed his eyes as he followed behind Amy.

“I’m gonna fall asleep in here…” Tails yawned.

“No sleeping!” Knuckles sealed the entrance and rushed ahead, leading the way. The rest of the group groaned in unison as they followed.

As they went, Amy noticed a ladybug had hitched a ride on her shoulder. “Aw, wouldn’t want you to get lost down here.” She picked up the small insect on the end of her finger and continued after Knuckles. After coming down a winding staircase and navigating a series of dark corridors, the team arrived in a small room with walls lined with scrolls and small relics with a hard wooden table in the center. Knuckles lit the torches on the walls and sifted through the contents of a stone shelf.

“I have a flashlight, you know,” Tails remarked.

“No flashlights! You’ll damage the texts.”

Tails mumbled under his breath. “I suppose lighting them on fire is better…”

“Quiet- look at this.” Knuckles brought out a large, yellowed scroll and a wooden box. Spreading the scroll across the table revealed what appeared to be a map of the ocean. “This is a map to that treasure Rouge is after.”

“Wait,” Amy interrupted, “You have one, too?”

Knuckles nodded. “This is Captain Scarlett’s map.”

Sonic leaned over the scroll. “Scarlett? Isn’t that the famous lady-pirate? Why do you have that?”

“Because,” Knuckles continued, “300 years ago, that damned pirate plundered the Mystic Ruins for its treasure. This map was found by an Echidna scholar over a century ago and it’s been here ever since.”

“So, this isn’t the first time someone finds part of Scarlett’s treasure?” Tails asked.

Knuckles scoffed. “Hardly. My people have been after that stash of letters that Rouge found for decades. We’ve been trying to keep the contents of ‘Scarlet’s’ treasure a secret since it was discovered what it contains- The Stone Mirror.” The others stared blankly at him, the object he was referring to having no meaning to them. He looked at each of them irately before continuing. “Really? Argh, fine; The Stone Mirror is a powerful artifact that can turn the user into their ‘most desired self’- whatever that means. Apparently, old Scarlett used it 300 years ago to become the world’s best pirate or something.”

“So… you want us to help you look for a magic mirror in the middle of the ocean?” Sonic asked.

Knuckles’ brow twitched. “Did you not just hear what I said? What if Eggman got a hold of this thing?!”

“What’s the big deal? We should be able to fly there-”

“No flying. This map is meant to be navigated by sea. Besides,” Knuckles opened the small box to reveal a compass and a crystal eyepiece. “This map only goes so far. We’ll need these once you get to this point to guide the rest of the way.”

“Let me see that,” Tails took the compass in his hands and waved it around the room. “Does this thing work? It doesn’t even point north.”

“It points to where it has to point once you get here,” Knuckles poked at a red X on the map.

“That literally makes no sense.”

“It’s what the scholar wrote down when she discovered this map!”

As they bickered, Amy carefully picked up the map and held it to the light. As it passed in front of a lantern, writing could be seen across one side of the scroll. The little ladybug that had ridden in on Amy’s shoulder flew onto its surface and crawled around. “Guys, look! There’s something written here.” The boys went silent as they leaned in to get a closer look at the neat cursive script. Amy read it aloud. “Hand in hand we sailed to the horizon that faithful evening. I looked into her glassy eyes for guidance as the sky above turned, Scarlett.”

Sonic shook his head. “This lady sounds lost.”

“Maybe,” said Knuckles, “But our best hope is to follow this map and figure it out from there. And get that bug off the map, would ya?” Amy allowed the little red insect to crawl back onto her hand before replacing the map on the table.

“Yeah, all I’m hearing is we’re gonna get ourselves stranded in the ocean. Count me out.”

“Are you serious?!”

“No way I’m getting on a boat just to get stuck in the middle of the sea,” Sonic crossed his arms stubbornly. “I’ll stay here and look after the Master Emerald.”

“No fair, why do you get to stay?” Tails complained. “I don’t wanna be on a boat, either!”

“I think it sounds fun,” Amy said, watching as the ladybug crawled around on her palm.

“This isn’t a pleasure cruise!” Knuckles yelled.

Tails’ ears drooped. “I’ll say. Sonic’s right, we’re gonna get lost. Don’t you have that scholar’s notes, Knuckles?”

“No.”

“But you know a little about what she wrote; where are they?”

Knuckles grumbled as he crossed his arms. “There was… a small fire…”

“No kidding,” Tails frowned.

“Bah- Will you help me or not? We need to get on a boat ASAP to beat that bat over there- she has all the same information in those documents she found!”

Rolling his eyes, Tails turned back to the map. “Fine. We can take my boat. But I need to take a better look at this map in some proper lighting.”

“Deal,” said Knuckles. “You in, Ames?”

“You can count on me! I already have our costumes planned out,” Amy giggled.

“Costumes…?” It didn’t feel like much of a deal to Tails, who’d just been roped into steering a boat for the next several days in whatever outlandish outfit Amy would choose for him. He rolled up the scroll begrudgingly and gathered the other trinkets into their box. Knuckles turned out the torches as the team spilled out into the corridor and followed him back up to the surface. They all squinted harshly as the mid-morning sun burned their eyes.

“Here you go,” Amy told the ladybug, placing it on a small flower. “Hope you find your way back home okay.” She watched it crawl around a bit before spreading its wings and buzzing away happily. She smiled as it flew off, pleased that it was able to make it back to the surface with her help. Once it was out of her sight, Amy joined her friends in making their plans to sail off in the next few days.

The shiny little insect flew and flew, ascending far higher and speeding up to a far quicker pace than any ladybug reasonably should. It continued off the edge of Angel Island, floating high above the land, the sea, then the clouds. It didn’t take the ladybug very long to reach its destination, flying into a tiny steel vent and into a cold, metallic fortress. Once aboard the Egg Carrier, it made its way into a small lab where it landed on a steel desk, ready to address its master.

“It is about time you returned…”

The ladybug spread its wings once more, this time flying into the minuscule port on a computer that topped the desk. A video appeared on the screen that took up the wall ahead, displaying a first-person view from the bug’s perspective. It flew toward Amy Rose, landing on her shoulder just as she descended into a secret passage.

A young boy’s voice was heard. “I’m gonna fall asleep in here…”

“No sleeping!” a gruff voice responded.

“Aw, wouldn’t want you to get lost down here,” Amy could be heard saying before the view changed to atop her finger.

“Interesting.” Metal Sonic locked his fingers together, resting his chin over his thumbs as he leaned in to listen closely. “What are our little heroes up to now?”

----

The following morning, Eggman raised a brow as he enjoyed his coffee with the early news. A field reporter was live from a marina where a crime was committed earlier that day. The spot at the docks where a historic pirate ship normally floated was empty.

“They just sailed off in her!” a frantic man said on TV. “We had a wedding planned there for this afternoon! What are we supposed to do now?”

The show cut back to the news anchor. “The historic Royal Fortune, the antique pirate ship that still operates tours and events to this day, was stolen early this morning as the thieves marooned the crew on a nearby sandbar. The criminals are described as armored and wearing black hooded cloaks. If anyone has news regarding her whereabouts-”

“Hmm…” Eggman muted the show as he heard a loud, metallic clanking forming from the corridor. Metal Sonic strode in from outside the floating fortress with two Silver Sonic Prototypes close behind. All were mysteriously clad in black hooded cloaks as the small minions each carried oversized boxes above their heads.

Eggman leaned back in his chair to look out through the open doorway. “Metal, where were you so early?”

The three robots stopped in their tracks as Metal Sonic turned around to address him momentarily. “Out.” He continued forward without another word.

“I gave you the ability to talk so you could use it, you know,” Eggman grumbled. He took another sip as a loud doorway could be heard opening and shutting down the hall. With a sigh, the old man shook his head, wondering what the dark cloaks were about. Why would they hide their identities to steal the stupid ship? What is he even up to? he asked himself before going back to his coffee.

Once in the privacy of Metal Sonic’s lab, boxes were ripped open and long capes were thrown aside. Metal Sonic stood in front of a full-length mirror examining his freshly painted armor, glittering gold accents reflecting the dull fluorescent lighting. Each of the pint-sized prototypes had received chromatic silver paint jobs as well to differentiate them from the dozen or so other identical bots that performed various tasks around the airship. They both sorted through the boxes, throwing various period garments about the room haphazardly.

Clothes were strewn everywhere by the time Metal Sonic noticed the mess they were making. “I told you two to find me something to wear, not wreck my lab!” The identical minions looked at one another blankly. One of them picked a pair of stays up from in front of him and held for his master to observe. Metal snatched the undergarment from the smaller robot’s clamps and threw it aside. “That is not what I meant!” He picked up a nearby book and ripped it open to a page containing an illustration of a pirate captain. “Find me this,” he pointed at the pirate’s jacket gruffly.

His claw made a loud CLANG against his forehead, saluting Metal before stretching an extendable arm across the room to retrieve a navy coat with gold accents that had been tossed aside. Once in his possession, Metal Sonic draped it over his shoulders and examined his reflection once more. “Hmm… A bit restrictive. H3, scissors.” The other lackey robot took the command, fetching a pair of scissors from a drawer and presenting them to his master. Metal proceeded to chop the coat up into little more than an open vest adorned with golden epaulets draped with tassels at each shoulder. He belted the reconstructed jacket around his waist and stared at his reflection. “What do you think? Missing something?”

The two henchmen examined the book’s illustration again. One of them shot up and dove into one of the boxes, returning with a tricorn cap. He extended his arm and placed the hat atop Metal Sonic’s head while the other clapped his bulky claws together.

“I don’t know…” Metal rested his hands on his hips pensively. “What are you two wearing?”

H3 and his counterpart, H4, looked toward one another with a shrug. They dug through the pile, each digging out a solid-colored scarf. H3 wrapped his blue one around his head like a bandana while H4 tied a red one to his waist. They looked each other up and down for a few moments before deciding in unison to switch their color choices, H3 snatching the red bandana from his brother and pulling it over his head while H4 made a belt of the blue one after ripping it from atop the other’s head. They high-fived to commemorate the decision, their little clamped hands rattling together as they made contact.

“Fine, fine…” Metal waved them off, glancing back at the book once more. The captain sported a sword at his waist. At the bottom of one of the boxes rested an antique cutlass that resembled the one in the drawing, but dulled at the edge. “Yes… This will do.” He picked up the weapon and brandished it ahead of his body “If Sonic’s friends are dressing for the occasion, so shall we!” he cackled. “H4, make sure this gets sharpened,” he barked as he thrust the sword into the minion's hands. “H3, clean up this mess. I have work to do.”

With that, each of the minions loudly saluted Metal Sonic before attending to their tasks. Metal leaned over his desk as the video of the heroes reappeared on the large screen ahead. He was disappointed to learn that he wouldn’t be facing his rival, Sonic- the coward had decided to stay on land. Metal looked from one of their faces to another before settling on Amy Rose’s cheerful expression. “Yes… She will do.” Metal concocted his plan, reveling in the knowledge that once he obtained the Stone Mirror, he would manifest into a form that not Sonic nor his friends could hope to stand a chance against.

Metal had spent much of the last year spying on Sonic and his friends, waiting for an opportunity when he could be one step ahead. He had grown to resent Eggman and his half-baked plans over the years, existing only as an obstacle to the heroes who always seemed to be prepared. Eggman understood this, or at least knew that Metal had begun taking his own initiative when it came to plotting against his rival. When he caught the robot surveilling the team, he made the decision to encourage him, wanting to take advantage of the part of Metal that could think just like his rival. Soon, Metal had been outfitted with a lab of his own and two henchmen to command. Eggman had upgraded him with the ability to speak and emote more expressly not long after, which Metal found both vexing and enthralling, now taking every opportunity to put his thoughts into words.

But Metal ultimately resented this as well as he had no desire to lean on his master. What he yearned for most greatly was to have the independence and autonomy to act on his own. Though Metal wasn’t disloyal to him, Eggman’s incompetence ironically prevented him from accomplishing his objective of eliminating Sonic. Since then, Metal took what he’d been offered as if a birthright and accepted nothing more, opting to source his own necessities. Everything from research to obtaining materials was to be accomplished by him personally- a task he did not take lightly. And because this was the first- no- the only time he would need to defeat his foes, it only made sense to do it in style.

Perishing the thought that whatever deep-seated programming compelled him to these theatrics was likely due to Eggman’s own influence, Metal had gotten to work studying the life of pirate legend Captain Scarlett. Metal did a poor job at hiding the excitement that befell him as he read everything he could process that regarded pirating. Perhaps it was the high stakes and endless freedom the seafaring criminals seemed to command- and what a very “Sonic” thing to be attracted to. He laughed to himself about his organic counterpart’s apparent fear of the ocean.

Then again, it was probably just the dramatic aesthetics.

The old pirate captain had a flair for the dramatic herself. Metal’s research showed that she often left secret messages in her documents such as the one discovered by Amy Rose in that map of theirs, as well as the letters that had been uncovered. Many of the “mysteries” uncovered through time appeared to be rudimentary puzzles really, it was bewildering how the treasure had remained hidden for so long. Still, he didn’t have a map of his own, and tailing the heroes would only get him so far. Metal knew from past experience that the bubbly girl was rather sympathetic. A savior complex, he thought as he studied his past interactions with her. She was the perfect pawn to manipulate into leading him right to the Stone Mirror.

The video was paused on a frame of Amy and her sunny smile. He recalled their first meeting when he captured her and how helpless she had been; But the girl had grown strong over the years, impressing even him with her combat technique. Amy decidedly wasn’t one to be taken lightly anymore, and he would have to be cautious. The compassion she showed towards most creatures was her real weakness, one that was easy to take advantage of. He played back a compilation of videos he’s taken of Amy Rose; her beaming complexion, the charismatic giggle in her voice, the tender pleading in her eyes…

None of that matters! He shook the thought from his head. What he really needed to understand were the driving factors behind her empathy. What could he use against her? He fast-forwarded to a scene of her and the rest of the group reminiscing about past adventures.

On-screen, Amy sat between Sonic and Tails in the sand, all enjoying an afternoon together at the beach. Knuckles could be heard off-screen. “Yeah, I still can’t believe Amy convinced that robot to let her go! What was it called again?”

“His name was Gamma. Honestly, he was able to think for himself after we became friends- it didn’t take much to convince him that he could disobey Eggman if he wanted to.” she twirled the front of her spines bashfully.

Sonic laughed. “Well good thing you made friends with him! I nearly turned him to scrap metal.”

“Come on, he did a lot of good before… you know.” There was some sadness in her eyes.

“Yeah,” Sonic agreed. “Hey, maybe you could convince Egg-head to do some good for once, too.”

Metal paused the video as they laughed together. “He did a lot of good.” Yes, Metal knew exactly how to get the sweet girl on his side- he was confident it wouldn’t take much convincing on his part, either.

The lab door was suddenly slammed open. “H4, what have I told you about-” Metal paused, faced not with his lackey but with a very animated Eggman.

“Metal! I just saw H4’s new paint job- excellent work! We should outfit all the prototypes with it,” he bellowed.

Narrowing his eyes, Metal turned back toward the screen to brood silently.

Eggman took a few steps into the room before continuing. “Tell me, though, what’s with all the pirate outfits? You putting on a show?” he feigned ignorance over the stolen ship and nudged the box closest to him with his foot. H3 popped his head out from the pile of clothes within with a clanky salute. “This one too, eh? I like the look.” There was no response from Metal but the quickening hum of his turbine as he grew annoyed at the interruption. “That hat will probably impede your hearing, though…”

He continued taking steps into the room, stopping just behind Metal to join him in looking at the screen ahead. It was still paused on a still of Amy looking cheerful. “Studying our heroes again, are we? You sure seem to like this one... She’s pretty cute.”

Metal whipped around to face him once again, this time with blazing eyes. “What are you-”

“I bet you could kidnap her again easily,” Eggman interrupted with a grin and a snap of his fingers.

“Get out!” Metal roared, rising from his seat.

Eggman laughed heartily. “Alright, alright- tell me if you need anything for your little production!”

As the scientist turned on his heel and made his way back toward the open door, H4 was scuttling in with the now sharpened cutlass held carelessly above him. He came to a skidding halt at the sight of Eggman, bringing his hand up to his forehead and dropping the sword noisily on the steel floor in the process. The man cackled at him, bending down to pick up the weapon and examine it. “Nice sword, not that you need it. Teach your lackeys to be a little more careful with sharp objects, hm?” Eggman tossed the sword to Metal, who caught it effortlessly, rolling his eyes.

“... Fine.” he finally responded before taking his seat again and swiveling back toward the giant monitor. He shut off the program that played back the videos.

“Atta boy.” With that, Eggman made his way out of the room. H4 shot out his arm, slamming his claw against a button that shut the door behind him.

The sword gleamed in the harsh lighting as Metal held it up to inspect. Eggman was correct, of course- Metal didn’t need a weapon- he was one. But the added flourish couldn’t hurt, he thought as he swung it through the air, a small WHIP whispering across the room each time he waved it. Metal wouldn’t admit it even to himself, but his creator had a point about his interest in Amy Rose, as well...

An alert flashed on the screen ahead before he could be forced to think about it. “GPS Tracker Activated”. A map popped up showing a blinking red dot, indicating the location of Tails’ boat.

“Finally…” Metal stood, raising a foot on his chair and brandishing the cutlass proudly. “Prepare the ship- we sail at dawn!”

-----

Amy yawned as she got dressed the following morning. The TV was tuned to the news, where a reporter was commenting on the authorities’ inability to find any leads in the case of the Royal Fortune’s theft. “Weird…” Amy remarked to herself out loud. She was tying a blue ascot around the collar of her dress- a white, long-sleeved piece with blue stripes at the hem and cuffs. She had purchased the sailor suit impulsively with the hopes of going sailing leisurely with her friends, but she supposed a maritime mission was occasion enough.

Hearing the whistle of a boat in the distance, she quickly pinned on her hat and slung her duffel bag over her shoulder. She lived on the beach and the boys had agreed to meet her there before sailing off. The whistle howled once more and she hurried out of her little shack, running toward the shore. “I’m here already! Quit hollering,” she grumbled. A steel ladder was lowered and she tossed her bag for Knuckles to catch before climbing her way up.

The boat was nothing like the pirate ship she’d seen on TV that morning. It was a sleek white vessel with blue chrome accents that glittered in the early sunlight. The small yacht was equipped with every manner of boating technology that Tails could cram onto it. A door beneath the elevated helm opened to reveal a set of stairs leading down to the main quarters. Knuckles lugged Amy’s bag over his shoulder, beckoning her to the opening.

“Wait! Before you put that away…” Amy unzipped the front pocket.

Knuckles grumbled. “Before I put it away?”

“Yes, thank you for that,” she chuckled, pulling out a pair of themed hats- a sailor’s cap similar to her own, and a white service cap with gold accents. “I figured you guys would prefer these to clothes.”

“Hmm,” Knuckles examined the headwear as she unfurled each one and held them up. “I suppose a captain’s hat would be fitting…” he reached out to take it from her when Tails suddenly interrupted.

“Uh, my ship- If anyone’s captain, it’s me.”

With an incredulous look, Knuckles turned his chin up to address him. “My mission, my hat- I’m captain. You’re navigating.”

“Oh and I suppose this boat’s gonna steer itself?” Tails said in a mocking tone.

“You think I don’t know how to drive a boat?” Knuckles was yelling now.

“Like I’d let you even if you could.”

“Alright,” Amy interrupted, “That’s enough- we have to be on this boat together for the next week. You two better get along!”

“Fine,” Knuckles crossed his arms. “Who do you think should be captain?”

“Tails,” she responded without hesitation.

“What?!”

Tails snickered from above. “Do you even have a boating license, Knuckles?”

His expression of rage quickly turned blank. His teammates both watched as the gears seemed to turn in his head. “... No.”

Amy and Tails both broke out into a fit of laughter. Knuckles snatched the sailor’s cap from her hand and stomped down the stairs with the duffel bag, grumbling choice words under his breath. “Here you go,” she tossed the captain’s hat up to Tails.

“Thank you,” he smirked triumphantly. “We’re ready to go- let’s let Sonic know before we sail off.” Amy made her way up and stood by him as Tails made a video call on a tablet. Sonic appeared on it a moment later.

“Yo,” he winked. “Looking good, guys.”

“Thank you,” Amy giggled bashfully.

“We’re about to sail,” Tails interjected before she could start chatting. “Everything good on your end?”

“Yep, just me and the Master Emerald. Pretty boring…”

“Don’t let Knuckles hear you say that.”

The three shared a chuckle before Amy and Tails waved to Sonic and signed off. The boat’s ladder ascended from the sand as Tails made the final preparations to sail. Knuckles reemerged from the doorway below as the vessel began moving, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand.

“Where’s your uniform, skipper?” Tails chortled, noticing that he hadn’t donned the white and blue cap.

“Watch it,” he threatened, eyes fixed on the horizon.

As the boat slid away from the shore and into the open ocean, Tails and Amy chuckled to themselves, ready for the adventure ahead. Unbeknownst to them, however, they weren’t the only ones tracking their whereabouts.

Back at the Egg Carrier, Metal and his lackeys were getting ready to mobilize.

The three bots snuck out of the lab and through the steel corridors, making sure to fly to keep noise to a minimum. It was dark- Eggman either wasn’t up or was too fixated on his work to notice them anyway. Once they reached the outdoor deck, each landed on the edge for a moment, H3 and H4 awaiting commands. “We will stay off their radar by remaining some distance away, and intercept them at this first meeting spot,” Metal explained. “But we need to catch up. Now, to the ship!”

But before he could lift off, a mechanical squeaking caught Metal’s attention from behind. He turned his vision to the distraction, claws outstretched in case someone was trying to stop him. His gaze was met by that of another Silver Sonic Prototype, who then imitated the awkward saluting motion the other two greeted their masters with. Metal narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously but lowered his guard. “What is the meaning of this?”

The small robot seemed to pull a yellow bandana from out of nowhere and quickly tied it below his muzzle, looking back up at Metal Sonic with his permanent sly grin. Metal scratched his chin pensively. “You wish to join us?” The prototype’s joints squeaked as it bobbed its head quickly and violently, causing Metal to slap his hand atop it like he was hitting a switch. “Enough! You’ll alert the others. Hm… State your serial number.” He lifted his right foot to reveal a string of numbers written on the sole, the last of which were “H1.”

“Ah, the very first…” Metal processed the unexpected interruption for a moment. He didn’t know how the robot had discovered his intentions, but there wasn’t much time to lose. At this point taking the additional support with him would at least keep word from getting to Eggman if H1 made a fuss. Metal supposed he could just deactivate him and toss him overboard, but…

“Very well, you may join me... But your outfit needs work. I’ll brief you on the ship- move!”

H1 threw its hands in the air with excitement, the four of them taking off. Metal Sonic lead the charge to the ship anchored about a mile away as they shot down through the high clouds.

-----

“Are we there yet?” Amy groaned from a lounge seat on the upper deck. The excitement from that morning had slowly turned to a boring exhaustion as the day dragged on. It was impossibly hot- the sun’s rays intensified by the inescapable humidity. The sun would be setting in another hour and they’d all been up since dawn, but Amy was the wariest.

“You know this is gonna take days, right?” Tails yawned. He had joined her on the deck while the boat was on auto-pilot, not intending to change direction for some time.

“I thought this first place was supposed to be close…”

“Yeah, it’s only a 12-hour boat ride,” he shrugged sarcastically. “But who knows how far the actual treasure is?”

“You two need to stop your belly-aching, you’re already getting on my nerves.” Knuckles was seated cross-legged on the roof of the helm. The others were sure he’d bake to death.

“Easy for you to say, all you do all day is sit around!” Amy huffed.

Tails checked his tablet, which he’d equipped with a navigator. “We’re actually pretty close… We’ll be coming up on these coordinates in about 20 minutes.”

Amy stretched her arms in an attempt to liven herself up. “Great! Then we have to figure out this weird puzzle…”

“I’m sure it’ll be obvious once we’re there,” said Knuckles. Tails couldn’t help but think he sounded awfully confident for someone who had no idea how to navigate.

“Hey, what is that…?” Tails hurried to take a pair of binoculars from his equipment and ran to the bow, staring into the horizon. The others listened in, Amy sitting up in the chair and squinting her eyes ahead. “Uh, there’s another boat over there… a big one.” The team all scrambled to the front of the boat, trying to look through the binoculars at once. A bright white ship could be seen in the distance- at least three times the size of Tail’s boat but just as modern. As they inched closer, some of the crew could be seen pacing around the main deck.

“Give me those,” Knuckles snatched away the binoculars for himself, zooming in on the ship’s bow as close as he could get them to focus. “You have got to be kidding me…”

“Rouge.” The woman he considered his arch-rival was sauntering about the bow of her ship, the stitched-together map in hand as she conversed with some crewmates. Two men each lugging a huge camera over their shoulder stood on either side of them. Amy and Tails groaned upon hearing Knuckles utter her name with disdain, knowing the squabbling that would come next. He watched as she squinted in the direction of their boat once they were in view of one another.

Tails brought his vessel in close to her ship, which towered above theirs. Rouge had to lean over the side railing to look down at the team. “Oh my, what is it you want?” she frowned.

Knuckles raised a foot to rest on a railing of his own. “We’re after Scarlett’s treasure, and you’re in our way.”

“I mean, they’re not really in our way,” Tails grumbled. “Can you take your foot down from there?”

“Quiet,” Knuckles held a palm up to him, chin still pointed up at Rouge.

One of the cameramen leaned over next to her, pointing his recording device directly at Knuckles. Rouge continued with a smirk. “It looks like we have some competition- not that they stand a chance at finding it before I do.”

Knuckles squinted. “What’s with the cameras?”

“Cameras?” Amy skipped over next to him and waved up at the ship. “Are you guys making a movie?”

“A documentary,” Rouge nodded. “And you look so cute. What do you think of this?” Rouge batted her wings and flew up to hover just above the railing, the camera following her as she did. She wore a brocade bustier over a lacey flared-sleeve linen blouse and fitted black trousers tucked into leather boots. She looked like a true pirate.

“Oh,” Amy beamed, “Gorgeous!”

Knuckles raised his voice as his vexation grew. “What the hell is happening? Why are you dressed like that?”

“Aesthetic,” she shrugged. “And how did you find this place, anyway? Are you tracking us?”

“I’ll have you know that treasure you’re after contains sacred Knuckles Tribe artifacts, and we have Captain Scarlett’s original map.” Knuckles crossed his arms confidently.

“No kidding?” Rouge pouted. “Well, good luck- we’ve been here for hours and can’t figure out where we’re supposed to go from here.”

“Typical!” Knuckles shot back.

“Hmph- If you’re so knowledgeable, hotshot, let’s see you navigate from here!” Rouge flew off out of sight with the cameraman on her heels.

“Whatever-” Knuckles marched up to the helm where Tails had already begun studying the map. “So... where do we go from here?”

“Beats me…” he shrugged.

“Are you serious?”

Amy joined them, picking up the crystal eyeglass and bringing it to her eye. She expected it to magnify things, but it didn’t appear to be a telescope. “Well, this has to have something to do with it. Hmm…”

“Don’t forget the compass.” Tails brought it up to eye-level. “It’s pointing south by south-west. Weird.”

“What did the map say again?”

Tails held it up to the light, reading aloud. “‘Hand in hand we sailed to the horizon that faithful evening. I looked into her glassy eyes for guidance as the sky above turned, Scarlett.’ Whatever that means…”

“‘Sky above turned’... Like, turned to night?” Amy raised the eyepiece up high. The soft blue sky turned an intense shade of cobalt when viewed through the glass. “Ohhh, how pretty,” she remarked. “Glassy eyes…” Amy turned to tails with a gasp.

“The eyeglass!” they said in unison.

“But do we have to look up at the sky during the nighttime then?” Tails scratched his chin.

“I don’t think we’ll see much at night with this thing- it just turns everything blue.”

Knuckles took it from her, glancing through it with one eye. “What’s this even for?”

“I thought it was a spyglass, but it doesn’t magnify anything. It’s just a blue glass at the end.”

“That’s useless…” The three of them pondered on it as the sun neared the horizon. It would be dark soon- they didn’t want to be stuck there trying to figure it out overnight. Both teams were so deep in contemplation that they hardly noticed a third object approaching on their radar until it could be seen in the distance.

“Is that a pirate ship?” Rouge could be heard from her ship’s deck. She flew up to get a better look through a telescope. “Do you guys have anything to do with this?” she accused.

“Uh, definitely not” Tails answered, glancing through his own binoculars. He zoomed in as far as the lenses allowed. A lanky figure with a spiky head could just barely be made out. “Is that… Sonic?”

“What? Gimme those,” Amy yanked them away from him to look. “Hey- isn’t that the pirate ship that was stolen yesterday?”

“You’re right!” Rouge shouted. “And that does look like Sonic…”

Amy gasped in realization. “That’s not Sonic… That’s Metal Sonic.”

“Oh great, now we gotta deal with Eggman, too?” Knuckles groaned. “What could he want?”

The ship was fast approaching. Rouge shouted orders at her crew, instructing them to ready their weapons. The TV crew scrambled around frantically, trying to catch all the action. Amy and Knuckles looked at Tails expectantly, not having anticipated getting into a battle at sea.

“I got this. Everyone get close!” Amy gathered the map, eyepiece, and compass and held onto them tightly as they scurried together at the helm. Tails entered a set of commands and the boat began to separate in two, bisected vertically to make way for an enormous cannon that rose from beneath the deck. The helm was raised up and back, a shield forming around it like a cockpit. “Knuckles, cannon. Amy, be on the lookout from the starboard and stem. I’ll keep an eye on the port side while I steer.”

“Roger!” they shouted in unison.

Metal Sonic’s ship approached from the south, circling around both vessels as it came close. “Ahoy!” his voice came shouting out of a speaker. He cackled as his opponents all seemed to look to one another with bewilderment.

“Could he always talk?” Tails asked his friends.

Amy shuttered. “Not always…”

Rouge’s voice was amplified by a megaphone as she flew above her ship’s bow to address Metal Sonic. “Tell us what The Doctor is up to!”

“‘The Doctor’ has nothing to do with this. I’m here for her,” he extended a long, spiked claw to point directly at Amy, who jumped at the announcement.

“Wh- Me?”

“Yes, you. Now come, join my crew!” His hand closed into a fist as he made the demand. No one was more dumbfounded than Amy. At a loss for words, she looked incredulously at Metal Sonic. “Well, come on, I haven’t got all night.”

Shaking her head of the confusion, Amy finally answered. “Uh… no thanks?”

Everyone turned their attention back to Metal. He narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms behind him authoritatively. “Are you sure?”

All eyes shifted back to Amy. She was red as a tomato at all the attention. “P-positive…”

“Hm, very well.” Metal took some steps back onto the deck of the Royal Fortune, turning away from the others. Rouge held a hand back to her crew, a few of whom stood on the deck behind her with rifles. Tails and Amy glanced at one another while Knuckles held his fighting stance. Then, Metal spoke again. “We’ll do it the hard way, then.”

Without warning, a cannon exploded in the direction of Tails’ boat. The three hit the deck as the cannon fodder made contact and shook the vessel. Rouge’s crew opened fire on Metal Sonic’s ship, making bullet holes in the old wood but leaving the robot unaffected as the ammunition bounced off his body. He gave her a look of boredom.

The sun began to set as it all unfolded, casting a deep ruby light over the environment. Amy struggled to find her balance and retrieve the eyepiece and compass that had rolled around the floor at the collision. The compass slipped out of her grip, too, sliding down the deck just beside the glass. She moved to snatch both pieces up but stopped when she noticed something glowing upon the compass in the light that reflected from the eyepiece. Picking them up carefully, Amy brought the spyglass up to look at the compass through. Drawn across the arrow was another arrow, pointing in the opposite direction. It illuminated as she looked at it through the glass and disappeared otherwise. “‘Sky turned…’ Oh! Scarlett!” The intense red light cast from the sunset had combined with the blue filter on the glass to reveal the otherwise hidden image. Upon turning the compass around, Amy found some text on the back in the same glowing lettering.

“Amy, move!” Knuckles shouted from behind. She didn’t have time to react before she felt a metallic coil snake around her waist and pull her backward. It wasn’t a cannonball that Metal Sonic had fired, it was one of his minions, H3 with his extendable arms. Amy screamed as she suddenly lurched away.

“Hang on-” Tails commanded, turning the cannon sharply and causing the vessel to shutter again. H3 struggled to maintain his balance until Knuckles came up on his side and smashed a fist into his head, sending the bot flying off the side of the boat. He released Amy instinctually, using his arms to latch onto the railing instead.

Amy landed on her feet, the artifacts still in hand. “Tails, the compass! Look!”

“Little busy!” Tails was turning the wheel at the helm frantically, trying to swing the cannon back around to fire back at Metal Sonic.

“We have to hurry before the sun goes down! We need the red light!” She ran back to the safety of the helm, where the shield protected them from the front. The cannon charged as she scrambled to read the inscription aloud in the dimming light. “‘The Mirror’s bloodlust was nothing to me, for I’d have bled myself dry for you.’ Huh? Hey, this mentions the mirror-”

Tails pulled the trigger then, expecting some kickback from the blast. Instead, the entire front of the vessel was launched upward, the shot deflected into the sky; something had come up beneath them, turning the boat up and threatening to sink it. Everyone aboard lost their balance as the boat listed back. Tails managed to hold on by the helm and Knuckles by a side railing, but Amy was sent sliding down, shrieking as she rolled overboard off the stern.

Metal Sonic looked on in a panic as it unfolded. “Nooo!” his eyes blazed down at whatever had emerged from the sea to cause the collision. A huge steel submarine sat with its nose just under the front of the boat. “Aaaaargh!” he roared in realization. The logo plastered on each side of it gave it away- it belonged to Dr. Eggman.

“Attack!” the command could be heard coming from the half-submerged vessel. Two oversized badniks emerged from the water, a crablike robot that crawled up the side of the submarine and began blasting at Rouge’s ship, and another shaped like a torpedo made to resemble a shark which hurdled itself toward Tails’ boat, causing it to shake and list further.

“Amy! Knuckles!” Tails shouted. He was able to kick himself off and fly, taking the map as he looked for his friends.

“Over here,” Knuckles called. He reached up for Tails’ hand. “Where’s Amy?”

As she finally emerged from the water, Amy coughed and waved her arm up frantically. Spotting her, Rouge flew overhead. “I’ve got her!”

“No, you don’t,” Metal Sonic flew into Rouge’s side, kicking her out of the air and into the water with a grunt. He made his way to Amy, lifting her by the arm out of the murky water. She coughed and sputtered, but clutched onto both the compass and spyglass with her other hand. He pulled her up further to hold by the waist at his side as he circled his way around to pick up H3, still dangling off the side of Tails’ boat. He narrowly missed a direct hit from the shark badnik when it leaped out of the water for another hit.

“Be more careful! You are not to hit Metal Sonic!” Eggman’s voice screeched from the submarine.

Metal flew over it on his way back to the ship. “Why are you here?!”

Amy had begun struggling under Metal Sonic’s grip, threatening to hurdle herself back into the ocean. “Let me go! I don’t want to join your weird crew!”

“Stop your squirming! Do you have a death wish?” Just as he finished the statement, Amy wormed her way out from under his arm and fell headfirst toward the water. Thinking fast, Metal chucked H3 toward his ship with a CLANG and dove for her. He was just quick enough to catch the girl before she fell in again, supporting her back and legs against him tightly; she wasn’t going to get out of this one so easily.

“What do you even want with me?” she yelled, trying to push away from him in vain.

Metal looked down at her, forcing eye contact. “... I need you.” He tried to sound sincere.

“What-”

Bullets began raining down on them now that they were directly across from Rouge’s ship. Metal pulled Amy’s body in, deflecting the fire. “Is anyone here sane?!” Amy actually made an effort to cling to him now, drawing her knees as close as she could muster.

“Stop firing, you idiots, he has the girl!” Rouge wailed, finally hovering up and recovering from her run-in with Metal Sonic. “Are you trying to get her killed?!” She landed on the front of the submarine and swung her leg down on the crab robot’s face, splitting it in two. Meanwhile, Knuckles threw his fist into the side of the other badnik and rendered it useless as it flopped back into the water. Tails carried him up to the deck of the ship with Rouge not far behind.

Metal flew into the hole in the side of the ship from which the cannon stuck out, allowing him to take them out of harm’s way faster. He dropped her harshly on her behind once they were inside. “H4, H1, make sure she doesn’t escape,” he commanded before flying up toward the main deck.

“Ouch! Hey, wait- what do you want with me?” Amy got on her feet and was ready to chase after him when a pair of snaky appendages started winding themselves around her. “Not... again!” she wiggled out an arm, summoning her hammer; but another clawed hand shot out and knocked it from her grip, confining her before she could retrieve it. There was no squirming away now. “Metal! Get back down here and tell these things to let me gooo!” she screeched before one of H1’s arms coiled over her mouth like a muffler.

On deck, Metal Sonic hoisted the sails and began navigating away from the battle. Eggman had stuck his head out of the top of the submarine, waving at him. “Great work, Metal! I’ll hold them off.” the old man just barely dodged one of Rouge’s bullets before scurrying back in.

Enraged by The Doctor’s presence, Metal was tempted to disobey and continue fighting out of spite- but he had what he’d come for. Resenting the “help,” he blasted “Stay out of this!” at Eggman as his ship sailed into the darkening horizon.

-----

In the aftermath of the battle, Rouge tramped around the ship shouting orders with cameramen on her heels. Eggman escaped once Metal Sonic had enough of a lead. Now, one of the ship‘s engines was badly damaged and engineers were sent down to make what repairs they could while Tails and Knuckles were given towels to dry off with. They sat in the enclosed cockpit discussing their next steps.

“I can’t believe they sunk my boat…” Tails was sitting with his head in his hands sorrowfully, lamenting the loss of his tech. “All that equipment…”

Knuckles sat with his arms crossed, grumbling. “Yeah, and now we have no chance of getting to the treasure before Rouge…” She marched into the room just then, slamming the door behind her and locking out the camera crew with a huff. Raising a brow, Knuckles addressed her. “Speak of the devil…”

“Don’t start!” she shot back at him. “I just saved your sorry behinds from being stranded at sea. I’m dropping you off at the next port-of-call, so don’t get too comfortable!” Rouge had a towel draped over her shoulders but hadn’t changed out of her wet clothes. She was getting goosebumps in the cool, air-conditioned room.

“We’re stopping? But we need to get to that treasure before Metal Sonic and save Amy!” Tails protested.

She marched up to the helm and pointed at several flashing indicator lights. “We can hardly go anywhere right now. Half the ship is under duress and we need to stop somewhere for repairs. I’m waiting for a tow.” Crossing her arms, she turned away from the pair. “And you are not part of my crew- we’re leaving you ashore.”

“Like hell you are!” Knuckles stomped over to her, placing a gruff hand on her shoulder. She was not amused, slapping it away from her.

“Hands off! Or would you rather we throw you overboard now?”

“And you’re fine with just abandoning Amy, then?”

With a gasp, Rouge whirled around again, hiding the shame on her face. “What do you want me to do? The ship’s barely operational, and I have a crew to think about…”

Knuckles grumbled but didn’t have a response. He hated to admit it, but she was right- they needed a ship to catch up to Metal Sonic, and theirs wouldn’t make it far.

“Can I take a look at the damage, Rouge?” Tails chimed in. They both looked back at him, then at each other.

Rouge shrugged with a slight shiver. “Fine- you probably know better than my best engineer anyway…”

“No doubt,” Knuckles retorted. “Go change, would ya? You look like you’re freezing.”

“Hmph!” she glared at him. Picking up a microphone, she pressed a button that called the engine room. “I’m sending another engineer down, you are to do what he asks.” Once she received confirmation, Rouge slammed her own compass and eyeglass on the counter atop her map. “And figure this out!” With that, she was off, out a side door and into her quarters. The door shut harshly behind her.

“Hm.” Knuckles leaned back on the wall. “Now the question is, where do we go from here?”

“We’ll need a red light to find out. Come on,” Tails snatched up the items she’d left behind and beckoned his friend to join him in the engine room.

“A red-? Huh?”

Ignoring their questions as they went, Tails and Knuckles weaved around the camera crew that still lingered outside the room and headed down into the ship’s depths.

Some miles away, Amy’s muffled yelling could be heard below the deck of Metal Sonic’s ship. He descended the stairs slowly, stopping in front of her. He made a motion as if to clear his throat and addressed the girl. “Apologies for the restraints. I thought you might be liable to tear the ship apart otherwise.” He signaled for H1 to unwrap his arm, allowing her to speak freely.

“I’ll tear you apart first!” she writhed under the metal coils to no avail.

“If you don’t settle down, we will just have to wait for you to tire yourself out,” he shrugged. “And you’ll find there’s nowhere to go at sea but down- so I’d be careful about threatening the captain.”

Amy huffed and puffed but couldn’t get out from under the weight of so many restraints. Panting, she finally relented, raising her intense glare at him. “What do you want?”

Metal let out a mechanical “sigh,” as if exasperated. He stood with his hands at his hips, leaning forward slightly. “I do not wish to harm you…” It wasn’t a lie- not yet, anyway. “I’ll cut to the chase: I am after the Stone Mirror-”

“And why would I help you with that?”

“Silence!” he commanded. Amy scoffed, turning her head away. “Now... Why don’t we speak in private, hm?” With a snap of his metallic fingers, the heavy arms all snaked away from Amy, putting her down on her feet gingerly. She gazed from bot to bot with caution. Metal pointed at the wooden staircase with both arms. “After you.”

“Hmph!” Carefully, Amy made her way past each of Metal Sonic’s minions and then himself. They began up the stairs while he followed her closely. He looked away for a moment to signal something to the others; Amy saw an opening. In an instant, her hammer appeared in her fist as she swung around to smash it into the side of his face, knocking him off the third step and onto the floor.

Metal Sonic shook his head violently as the light in his left eye flickered. Unfortunately for Amy, it didn’t actually impair his vision and he managed to catch up to her in a manner of seconds. H3 was already whipping his arms around and charging at Amy when Metal Sonic came up from behind to restrain her. “H3, stop at once!” The small henchmen dove onto his back at the sudden command, sliding across the deck with his extended arms dangling behind. He crashed into a beam feet-first, causing it to rattle.

Kicking and flailing, Amy was only able to bring her weapon down behind her, repeatedly hammering the top of Metal’s head. “Let! Me! Go!”

“What do you even plan to do once you ‘destroy’ me? I told you, there’s nowhere to go- And stop the incessant hammering!” He pulled one of his arms away from her, seizing her hammer and chucking it overboard. The repeated hits to the head finally took out the LEDs in his left eye as it went out completely. He pushed her away and she turned back to him. To his surprise, the giant mallet was already back in her grip when she did. “What- How? Why?!”

Amy was breathing heavily, holding her hammer to her front defensively. Realistically, she knew he was right- even if she managed to take him and the others out, she’d just be lost at sea. Maybe he really wasn’t trying to hurt her… he had asked that smaller robot to stop attacking, after all. But Amy couldn’t see what good giving him access to the Stone Mirror would do. “What do you want with the mirror, anyway?” she asked, doubting he’d give a straight answer.

Metal Sonic straightened up into a neutral pose, smoothing down his lapel. His glare softened as an eyelid cast down over his functioning eye. “I shall tell you… After you stop dripping all over my deck.” Amy winced, realizing how sopping wet she still was from her dip in the ocean. Saltwater dripped from her quills and dress and had begun to puddle at her feet. “There’s a change of clothes in my quarters. Will you stop being combative and listen?”

Lowering her hammer- but not putting it away- Amy nodded reluctantly. “You first this time.”

“... Very well.” Metal Sonic led the way across the elevated deck to a set of double doors, opening one and motioning for Amy to enter. She hung back suspiciously. Metal rolled the eye he had left and entered first, allowing her to close the door behind them. Once inside, he plopped down on a large armchair, propping his feet up on the wooden table in front of him. “I’ve set something out for you there,” he pointed at an antique screen in the corner of the room. “Try not to take all night.”

Amy’s glare didn’t stray until she was safely behind the screen, when she put away her hammer. There was a frilled white blouse and ankle-length maroon skirt hanging beside some black stockings and red boots. A towel hung over the screen. Is he serious? She hesitated for a moment, wondering how she ever ended up in such a scenario, playing dress-up for one of her worst enemies. But the situation was hopeless if she didn’t comply. She just had to play along and wait for backup for the time being…

After 10 minutes of waiting, Metal grew impatient. “Do you need assistance?” he mocked.

“No!” Amy emerged a moment later, awkwardly shoving the bottom of the shirt into the bell-shaped skirt. She’d slipped the compass and spyglass into each of her sleeves in the absence of pockets. “Thanks for the clothes or whatever, but why this?”

Ignoring her question, Metal stood and approached her. She took a step back. “Hm… Needs accessories.” His heavy steps clopped against the hardwood floor as Metal strode to another box of costumes. He dug out a set of square scarves and made his way back to where she stood, as non-threateningly as possible. Standing silently, Amy crossed her arms over the front of her body; she didn’t know what to expect. “Would you try these on?”

Amy was in disbelief. What did he want with her that required such a costume? She took the large square of fabric from him and examined them, unsure what she was meant to do. “Uh…”

“Allow me.” Metal held out an unassuming arm. The annoyance on Amy’s face was clear as she placed them back in his hand and brought her hands up to her hips impatiently. “Lift your arms.”

“What?”

“These go around your waist. Now, lift your arms.”

She did what he asked with a grumble, gasping as he tightened each of them around her and tied the ends into forceful knots. Metal took a step back and admired her outfit. “Yes, very ‘pirate,’ don’t you think?” He motioned to a floor mirror across the room.

“I guess…” Keeping his reflection in her sights, Amy walked over to it. She was incredibly weirded out by his insistence, but supposed it could have been worse…

Her captor’s reflection grew nearer as he came up next to her, examining his face. “You really did a number on my eye; I’m impressed. But I wonder if it’ll affect…”

“Hrm- I put on your silly outfit, now will you tell me what you want?”

The single burning eye on his face shot at her briefly. Rather than frightened, the girl seemed irritated at the situation. He measured her heart rate- it was consistent with that of a person at rest now. Her behavior was almost admirable. “It is only fair,” he said, taking a seat back at the table. “Sit.”

“Is the word ‘please’ in your vocabulary?” she spat back.

Another eye-roll from Metal. “Please… sit.” Amy complied. She squirmed a bit as she sat, feeling restrained by the many layers around her midsection. She wondered silently if that was part of his plan. “The Stone Mirror. It allows one to become their ‘most desired self,’ is that correct?”

There was no way Metal Sonic should have known that. “I don’t know what you’re on about.”

His eye narrowed at her. “Fine- I will be honest. I know this only from spying on you and your friends. I have nothing to hide.”

“Is admitting it supposed to make it better?”

“No… I suppose not.” He leveraged himself against the table to stand. That glowing eye followed Amy as he paced around the perimeter of the table until he stopped at her side. “I know what the mirror is capable of, and I would like your help to retrieve it.” Leaning back on the table, he pointed at the cuffs of her sleeves. “The compass, if you will…”

“You still haven’t told me why you kidnapped me.”

There was a silent pause. Metal locked his gaze with hers and softened his tone. “You are a compassionate person, Amy Rose. I believe you will understand my need to obtain this artifact.”

“Which is?”

He feigned another sigh. “I am growing tired of being under The Doctor’s command. He has given me some freedom, but…” Looking up, he crossed his arms defensively. “What I am most interested in is my autonomy.” His “acting” would have been impeccable if what he was saying was at all a lie. He hadn’t gotten around to his scheme yet.

“Okay…” The frown on her face told him she was listening, but still wary.

“I do not believe I will be able to achieve that in this form, you see.”

“So, what form are you trying to take? Another giant monster?”

“An organic form,” he responded simply.

Amy was taken aback. “A… A what?” Metal’s engine hummed in the quiet air. He began moving again, circling behind Amy, who didn’t take her eyes off him until he stopped on her other side. She wanted to stare at him intensely, to show that she wasn’t letting her guard down, but there was an impossible longing on his face. It was hard to look directly at him.

“It’s simple- I am a robot. I have an advanced AI far beyond that of others like me, but… There is something missing. This body, although immortal and perfect in design, seems to weigh me down.” He knelt down beside her so he was no longer looming, believing it made him appear more humble. “I wish to think for my own… to feel.”

The moment was uncomfortable. Amy recoiled slightly when he’d come down, trying in vain to avoid locking eyes with him. He sounded so sincere. How could it be possible? “Wh- Why didn’t you just take the compass and run? Why did you have to bring me?”

“I took you so your friends wouldn’t attack me directly and spoil my plans.”

“So I’m a shield?”

“Not quite. I could have taken anyone- I chose you because,” he reached a hand out, gently taking hold of one of hers. She snatched it back with a glare. “Hm. I chose you because I believed you would understand my need and if the necessity arose, you could help me convince your team... I suppose I was mistaken,” he pushed himself upright.

“Wait,” Amy felt like she would regret it, but her good nature didn’t allow her to walk away from someone who seemed so desperate to change for the better- especially an enemy. “Can you… really not be free like this? You seem to have your own will…”

The trap was working. Metal found it easier to keep up the charade than he originally thought. “My thoughts and feelings are simulated. Would you feel ‘free’ if someone could reprogram you and take your memories at any moment?”

“Does… does Eggman do that?”

“... He has.” That wasn’t a lie.

“Oh,” Amy breathed. She held onto her wrists tightly, feeling for the compass and spyglass. This could all be a trap, she could be walking to her doom, and yet… “How do I know you’re not just gonna turn around and transform into something horrible?”

“You don’t. But…” he loomed over her chair slightly. “I will get what I want. You can either help me, or be stranded on the first remote island we come across until your friends rescue you. As it stands, you are only added assurance. The choice is yours.”

So he was back to threatening her. Amy thought about it- he really didn’t need her. If he had evil intentions, Metal Sonic could have just as easily taken what he wanted from her and locked her up, or worse. Instead, he asked for her help. It was unprecedented. Then again, Amy thought she could at the very least stall him- pry into his plan and see if she could discern whether he was being truthful... And it was either that or become a castaway.

She turned back to him with resolve on her face. “Fine, I’ll help you.”

The first phase of the plan was officially a success. Now, all Metal needed to do was keep up the act and use her presence to his advantage should her friends catch up to them. Better not to celebrate, yet- he didn’t want to sound too confident. “Thank you, Amy Rose. I knew I could count on you.” He extended his hand once more, this time waiting for her response. She stood up and shook it with a nod.

“Just Amy is fine. And I hope this means you’ll start thinking for yourself instead of blindly coming after us.”

“Cutting words, Amy…” He may have held her in that handshake a bit harder than necessary as she couldn’t hide the slight wince in her eyes. “Now, the compass.”

A sly smile spread on her face. “No ‘please’?”

Cheeky. Perhaps, Metal thought, she would be more interesting to keep as company than he thought. “Please,” he said in a low growl, drawing her in closer with a harsh tug.

“Ugh,” Amy yanked her hand away from him distastefully. “Here, weirdo.” She pulled the compass from her sleeve and tossed it to him.

“Hm. I believe the next words are ‘thank you.’” Metal examined the compass front and back. “Perhaps you think you’ve stumped me without the little spyglass in the sunset, but…” A purplish glow came from his eye as he cast it down on the navigation device. “I am still a robot, after all.”

With a scoff, Amy crossed her arms. She’d hoped to buy herself some time by not sharing the “solution” with him, but of course, he had a sharp eye. If she wasn’t able to trick him, she’d just have to get in his way.

“An inscription and all. So theatrical,” Metal chuckled. “Even back then, one could simply shine a red light upon this and use the glass filter…”

“You’re one to talk about theatrics.” She wasn’t sure if she should nod toward his outfit or the entire ship.

He let out a metallic laugh. “And here I thought you’d be entertained by all this. Come, we can finally navigate.”

With that, Metal Sonic led Amy out onto the main deck. She followed him cautiously, taking note of her surroundings. Each of the little henchmen clinked their clamped hands to their heads as their master passed. They were cute in their strange little way, their wide smiles making them look silly for the most part. Amy couldn’t help cracking a smile at the one who stood under the roof of the helm. She gave him a little wave and he reacted by springing his arms to the side and doing a handstand. “Pfff!” Amy cracked up.

“H1- stop fooling around. The sails need turning,” Metal demanded. H1 kept Amy giggling as he curled into a ball and rolled down the deck. “I will never know why they are such clowns…”

“Aw, lighten up! They’re fun. Well, when they’re not trying to strangle me.”

Metal ignored her, instead using the compass to navigate. “It seems we just have to go in the opposite direction from where this points. The glowing arrow is hardly necessary.”

“I guess,” Amy shrugged. “Looks cool, though.” She appeared much more relaxed after the quick laugh. Supporting herself on a rail, she looked out into the dark waters. “You can’t see anything out there…”

“Well, you can’t.”

“And pretty soon neither will you. Might wanna start getting acclimated.”

The proud attitude Metal took toward his mechanical body was probably best hidden for the time being. He made a note to dial down the cockiness. “I suppose you have a point. We will light some lanterns, then.”

The great vessel turned gradually in the correct direction as the other minions brought out antique lanterns from the ship’s displays. They did little to light the ship’s way, but Amy at least had a way to see where she was going aboard. Metal Sonic gave her free access to its entirety, but she was more interested in watching the stars from under the unspoiled sky. He observed as she cocked her head up and around to capture what she could with what he only assumed was a much narrower ocular scope than his own. Still, her curiosity was interesting as it unfolded before him. Amy had surely seen the night sky before, yet she craned her head to stare up at it so intently. It was… cute. That word seemed to be thrown in her direction a lot.

Grumbling in her stomach caused Amy to turn her attention to her hunger. She worried there wouldn’t be anything to eat on a ship manned entirely by machines. “Hey,” she called out to him from the lower deck, “uh, do you have any food? I haven’t eaten in a while…”

Food. It hadn’t crossed his mind. Of course, organics liked to- no, needed to eat to survive. He scolded himself for the oversight. “We… did not bring any aboard.”

“Seriously?”

Surely, there had to be something on board as the vessel was operating just two days prior. “The galley, perhaps? Follow me.”

Metal descended the steps that led from the helm and beckoned for Amy to join him in the lower guns. He kept the layout of the ship in his vision as they navigated most of the way into its belly, finally reaching the kitchen down below. Luckily, there was a light switch and Amy was able to put down her lantern as she took in the sight of the huge space.

“Woah… That’s no galley…” she stepped inside, admiring the stainless steel countertops and modern, oversized refrigerators and industrial ovens. “This must be the catering kitchen,” she concluded, opening a fridge. It was full of food just waiting to be prepared.

“Ah, yes. I believe there was to be a wedding here until I commandeered the ship…”

“You took someone’s entire wedding venue?” Amy asked in shock. “I thought you were evil before…”

He supposed that was meant to be a quip, but he didn’t find the humor in her words. Metal walked calmly to one of the stovetops and tested the switch, which was working normally. “It appears everything here is operational. I’ll leave you to it.” He turned on his heel and made for the exit, byt stopped. She would need a place to sleep, too. “I suppose you’ll need sleeping quarters, as well- find me when you’re through and I’ll assign you a room.”

“Uh-huh,” Amy answered half-heartedly. She was too busy deciding what to cook for herself and trying to figure out how to split the huge, catering-sized portions for one.

It took some creativity, but she managed to make something that would last her a couple of meals. Amy didn’t feel great about all the stolen food, but beggars can’t be choosers. Once she’d eaten and cleaned up, Amy picked up the precarious lantern and began her way up the many steps to the main deck. There are modern appliances here and they couldn’t be bothered to get me a flashlight? Amy still didn’t understand what the pirate charade was about, but she had to admit how cute she looked in the historical outfit. Pirates were definitely cooler than sailors; she wished she’d thought of it.

She finally reached the floor below the upper deck to find Metal Sonic sitting at a table in the corridor, wiping and inspecting the blade of a sword. It was creepy. “Hey… I’m done eating.” She held up the lantern awkwardly.

“Have you ever used one of these?” he flicked his wrist, brandishing the sword above him.

“Uh… can’t say I really have.”

“Would you like to?”

Amy clicked her tongue impatiently. “I would like to take a shower and know where I’ll be sleeping.”

The tip of the sword found its way quite startlingly into the wooden table-top as Metal stood. “‘Lighten up,’” he mocked her.

“Are you gonna be this good at copying people when your programming disappears?” Amy did her best to look unphased, but her heart jumped when he stuck the sword into the table. It was beating a bit quicker now.

A monocular, dead-pan stare met her eyes. “Will being organic make me as dull as you?”

Even after years of intense battles and struggling bitterly against him, Amy never wanted to wack Metal Sonic harder than she did then. The whole situation was unbelievably annoying- trapped on a ship with a cocky narcissist. A dangerous one- the thought ran through her mind. Amy had to take a step back- once he changed, if he changed, he would be much less of a threat. If she wasn’t staying aboard for him, she hoped, she was at least doing it for the greater good. That at least gave her some comfort. “Just tell me where it is, I’ll go myself.”

Metal leaned an arm on the table with disinterest. “Down two floors and down the hall to your right. It will be hard to miss.”

“Hmph,” Amy took off, trodding back down the stairs. Other than a short temper, he was impossible to read. She had to find a way to learn more about his intentions.

Amy followed his instructions, arriving in a dark corridor. Amy squinted in the dim light, groping for a light switch. Once she found it, she was in awe. Ornate molding lined the ceiling and fine art hung from the walls. It must have been part of the wedding venue.

She admired the paintings leading down the hall until reaching a door with a gold handle. Bridal Suite was printed on a plaque that hung next to it. Entering, Amy found a bright white room furnished with a canopy bed and vanity, among other lavish furniture. Her irritability quickly melted away as she took in the luxurious surroundings. Maybe staying aboard the strange ship wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

-------

Hi yall so I’m taking a break from writing Unfamiliar as I outline the last few chapters. It’ll be back early 2021 ❤️

ALSO I meant to finish this in time for @metamy-ship-week prompt 7 (free day) but it ended up a lot longer than I expected - hope you don’t mind me tagging it!

Part 2 of this should be up in the next few days! Love yall besos

#metamy #metal sonic x amy rose #metal sonic #amy rose #MetamyShipWeek2020 #metamy week #sonic fanfiction #sth #pirates

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charliesradiodemon · 4 years ago

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Sick Day (For artemisnightingale216)

Hello my friends! I’m here today with my raffle winner, @artemisnightingale216‘s fic! The prompt I was given by my lovely winner was to write about Alastor getting sick and Charlie takes care of him whereas shenanigans ensue hehe.

I hope you enjoy the fic artemis! This one was truly very very fun to write!

Fun fact: You don’t catch a cold from being wet and cold. The lowering of your body temperature from being wet and cold allows whatever virus you might've picked up a chance to thrive! Normally your body fights off viruses and germs you pick up every day before you even feel the effects of it. But when you do get sick with a cold, your body develops a fever to try to kill the virus in your body because they don’t do well at higher temperatures! It also happens that we also don’t do well at higher temperatures and that’s why we take fever suppressants when we have a fever! So we don’t die!

What was a bit of rain anyway?

Alastor had strolled through much heavier storms where he’d trudged his way through the mud and wind. He’d withstood hurricanes and floodwaters and braved the harsh elements on the way to work. A little drizzle wouldn’t hurt.

In fact he’d often reveled in the cool relief the rain gave him. Hell was often hot and dry- nothing like the muggy heat of New Orleans. When it rained it gave him a sliver of what he thought he’d never miss.

He hummed through the light drizzle, sticking his head up high to let the light drizzle tickle his skin and breathe in the smell of fresh rain on the dry pavement.

The moment of peace and reminiscing got cut short the moment he got onto the hotel’s property. What was a drizzle suddenly became a downpour, instantly soaking him where he wasn’t moist yet.

And still he did nothing about it. He was already wet, it was far too late to rush for cover and preserve any hint of dryness. With a shrug he continued to casually walk up the paved path and up to the door, completely unbothered by the ruthless downpour.

He walked through the door to find Niffty and Charlie at the bar, chatting up Husk.

As soon as they heard him walk in with a squelch in his step, they snapped their head to the door. To his surprise, he heard two women gasp once they got a glimpse of the soaked man.

Charlie was first to rush up. “Al, you’re soaking wet!”

The smaller demon followed behind only after zipping out to grab a mop. “And dripping all over the floor!” Screeched Niffty who’d already popped up behind Alastor, mop in hand. She set it aside and opened her arms behind him. Alastor moved to unbutton his coat and shrugged it off his shoulders into the waiting girl’s arms with a wet slop.

The one-eyed demon made a sound of disgust. “You could’ve at least wrung this out first!” She dashed out the door Alastor had just come through, muffled ranting still audible behind the wood and glass.

Alastor chuckled and shook his head. “The little darling works hard doesn’t she?” He looked back to Charlie. “Just got caught up in a bit of rain. Nothing I haven’t braved through before!”

Charlie crossed her arms and shot him a worried look. “Al, you gotta get dry right now! You’re gonna catch a cold!”

Alastor waved his hand as he walked by her, each step leaving a careless trail of raindrops behind him. “Ah don’t worry about me, I’ve been through much worse dear. Have you ever tried dragging a body through a hurricane? Well it sure helps wash the blood away, but it certainly isn’t a walk in the park!” He laughed heartily and continued through the lobby. He nodded to Husk in greeting, who didn’t react nor move at the greeting.

Charlie followed behind, careful not to slip in the little puddles. “It’s still pouring out there and you’re still wet!”

He shrugged in response and stepped into the waiting elevator without a second thought. “Do apologize to Niffty for me, will you?”

“Please just shower or something at least?” Charlie called to him.

He chuckled lowly, amused yet touched by her silly concern. “For you? I’ll consider it.”

The doors closed and whirred harshly as it pulled itself upward.

Alastor got dry as Charlie had asked. With a snap of his fingers, the dripping immediately halted and any trace of moisture was off of him. He could have done it before walking in, sure, but he enjoyed keeping Niffty on her toes.

Charlie’s concern hung onto him. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had any genuine concern for his well being. All of Hell knew he didn’t need it. But it certainly was a nice change and made him feel a warmth he couldn’t explain.

Charlie was always warm. Everything about her was warm and it often made him giddy. Her doting nature was naively adorable and Alastor found it to be one of her most charming qualities. She truly was a breath of fresh air.

For her concern, he felt the need to do something for her in return. It felt natural to and oddly enough he always felt the need to do things for her even with nothing in return. It was certainly unlike him and while he’d been trying to understand his odd feelings and behavior, he didn’t mind it.

‘I should whip up breakfast for her tomorrow for her trouble.’

Alastor cringed as the elevator dinged sickly and opened the doors with an equally sickly scraping noise.

‘Maybe I should fix the elevator for her instead.’

Once he stepped out of the elevator, he swiftly turned and snapped his fingers. The old piece of machinery rumbled and creaked for a few moments until shadows began leaking out from the cracks of the elevator’s doors.

Satisfied, he turn to walk to his room and wonder how elated Charlie was going to be once she found out the elevator was finally fixed after all these months.

Until a chill ran down his spine, sending a cascade of shivers.

But he thought nothing of it once he recovered. He was just out in the rain, it was natural that he’d feel a bit of a chill.

———

Charlie stared out the window as she sat in the kitchen alone. It had poured only the night before yet there seemed to be no trace of moisture anywhere. Just as there seemed to be no trace of activity in the hotel.

Though it was typical for the arid environment and heat of Hell to dry the pavement after the rain, it wasn’t quite a typical morning at the hotel.

Not that it was bustling to begin with, but it was too quiet that morning. Angel had already left for the day, Vaggie was out grocery shopping, Niffty busied herself with daily chores and Husk was still passed out behind the bar. And while that was fairly normal, someone else was missing.

Alastor still hadn’t made an appearance. Usually he’d already be in the kitchen whipping up breakfast for himself, or anyone around when he was in the mood to do so. He would join Charlie and whoever else was around for breakfast every day, and yet he still wasn’t in the kitchen yet.

Charlie went up to his room once she finished breakfast, noting how suddenly silent the elevator was. Where once she feared for her life on it, it functioned without a hitch.

Turning her attention back to Alastor, she walked up to his door. She knew she should probably leave him alone, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong especially after how he showed up soaking wet the night before.

She gently knocked on the door. “Al? You there?”

There were a few moments of silence. Nothing.

“Al?” She called once more, only slightly louder this time.

The door swung open, showing a fully dressed Alastor. “Can I help you, sweetheart?”

Charlie immediately noticed how his under eyes were darker than usual. “Are you okay? You weren’t at breakfast and-“

She paused when she watched Alastor's increasingly red face twitch. His expression tensed, smile seemingly more toothy and hard set than usual. “Al?” Charlie asked, concern increasing by the second.

After a moment, Alastor relaxed and nodded. “I’m just fine! Fit as a fiddle! Just running a bit late! Now if you’ll excuse me.” He slammed the door in her face, leaving her stunned.

Not even a second later, she heard a sneeze.

‘I knew it!’

Fueled by her need to help whilst swallowing her inhibitions, Charlie opened the unlocked door and poked her head in. “Al, you’re sick aren’t you?” She asked, shooting him a concerned look.

“What makes you say that?” He asked before turning his head and sneezing into a handkerchief.

“The sneezing, the red face and the bags under your eyes maybe? I bet you have a fever too.” She walked in fully and closed the door behind her. Cautiously, she approached him.

Alastor sneezed once more into his handkerchief. “Quite the little detective aren’t you?”

She chuckled. “The best of the best! Now-“ she approached until she was right in front of him. “lemme check your forehead.”

Alastor huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes. “Yes mother,” He bent over slightly to make her task easier. “Though I don’t believe this is necessary.” His eyes fluttered closed the moment he felt the significantly cooler touch of her hand rest on his forehead and took a breath of relief.

“Not necessary? Al, you’re burning up!” To his displeasure she removed her hand and hastily got back to the door. “Get back in bed, I’m going to get some stuff to help. I’ll be right back!” She rushed out the door, leaving a dumbfounded Alastor standing in the middle of his room.

Charlie’s heart raced as she made her way back down to the kitchen. She placed her hands on her cheeks to try to cool her burning face. ‘He was so close... and I touched him!’ She exclaimed in her head. ‘I actually touched him and he let me.’ she gasped, staring down at her hand as if she’d kept the touch as a souvenir.

Once the elevator dinged, she shook her head violently and briskly walked her thoughts off on her way to the kitchens. She needed to take care of him, not linger on her silly crush. He needed her this time and she needed to get her head on straight. “Okay, stop that Charlie! Focus!”

It didn’t take her too long to get Razzle and Dazzle to make a simple broth for Alastor. As much as she would have loved to make it herself, she knew she would find a way to burn the water if she tried to.

On the tray she carried she had a bowl of soup, a glass of orange juice and fever suppressant. Now that she was outside his door again, her stomach was in knots. Once more she shook her head and took a deep breath.

‘Focus Charlie!’

With one hand balancing the tray, she struggled to knock on the door. “Al, I’m back!” She called.

The door opened on its own for her; no doubt Alastor using his powers when he shouldn't be. Taking the gesture as an invitation, Charlie walked in and smiled as she found Alastor under the covers of his bed. “I’m glad you got back in bed. I got you some stuff to help.”

She approached the bed and set the tray on his bedside. “Can you eat on your own?” She asked as he wordlessly sat up.

Still red in the face, he shot her a mischievous look that sent her heart flying. “I could, but I’d much prefer if you fed me yourself my dear.” He teased, only half- joking.

Charlie felt her cheeks flare up again. “I j-just remembered I needed to do something! Make sure you take the medicine!” She stammered as she stepped away and got to the door. “I’ll be back to get your tray!”

Before he could reply, Charlie slammed the door and quickly walked off once more, desperately hoping that Alastor couldn’t hear her heart beating out of her chest.

“The fever’s talking. That’s it,” she took deep breaths as she stared down the hallway, walking quickly yet firmly. “Okay. I’ve got work to do. Gotta get back to work and don’t think about it!”

——-

When Charlie did return later that day, she found Alastor peacefully asleep. He didn’t respond when she knocked nor when she entered and approached him.

‘He’s still smiling.’ she mused, cracking a small smile. She watched his face, noticing the droplets of sweat on his forehead.

Carefully she hovered her hand over his forehead, feeling even more heat radiate off of him. ‘His fever hasn’t gone down yet!’

She pulled her hand away, only to be grasped by a quick hand.

“Hmm... Charlie my love, I’ve been waiting for you...” Alastor said, without opening his eyes. “You feel so cold... Let me warm you up darling...” he said breathily as he pressed the back of her hand against his sweaty cheek.

Charlie felt her heart pound as if it were trying to free itself out of her chest. As many times as this had happened today, her heart could have given away by now. “A-Al, go back to sleep. You’re saying some crazy stuff.” She chuckled nervously, trying to pull her hand from his.

But his grip was too firm. “I’m wide awake...” He slurred, sleep-drunk before falling asleep once more. His breathing became even once more, confirming that he fell back asleep.

Charlie continued to pull at her hand, but Alastor’s iron grip on her kept her from moving.

Sighing, she knelt at his bedside and rested her head on the mattress in defeat. She let her cheek rest on his mattress and stared up at his slumbering face with a sad smile. “You’re just saying all that cuz you’re sick. I know you don’t see me like the way I see you. But that’s okay.” She took a long breath as she watched him sleep. It was now mid afternoon and though she had things to do, she didn’t care. She would rather just sit there and pretend a little longer.

-----------------------------

When Charlie finally woke, she found herself laying in bed- with Alastor’s gaze on her.

“Ah!” She jumped up with a shriek and ungracefully rolled onto the floor.

Alastor peered over his bed to look down at her from above. “Well that was unnecessary,” he snapped his fingers and watched as his shadow immediately slid to Charlie’s side and scooped her unexpecting figure up into its arms.

Before Charlie could do anything or even react, the shadow gently slid her back into bed next to Alastor. “Do be careful doll.”

“Why was I in your bed?” She asked, confused by the gesture.

Alastor laughed as if it were a silly question. He propped himself up on his elbow. “You’ve already forgotten? Good golly darling I can’t believe you’d forget those pitifully sweet words you whispered in my ear. You seemed so downtrodden and disappointed.”

Unfortunately for her she did remember what she said to the supposedly sleeping man. Once she did, she stared at him in horror. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“Well I was getting there, but fortunately I’m a very light sleeper. The moment you began speaking you had my attention! When you nodded off, I pulled you into bed and you were clinging to me like a newborn to its mother!” He chuckled.

Charlie rolled over so her back was to Alastor, bringing her hands up to hide her tomato-red face. “Damn it Al, I-I-“

“You don’t seem to be very happy about this arrangement. Am I not being clear enough?” He asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Charlie jumped at the contact and allowed him to gently pull her to turn onto her back. “What’re you talking about?”

“I’m returning your feelings dear, simple as that. No deal or ulterior motives behind it.” he said plainly without a hint of radio backing his voice. His smile was closed and soft, but his gaze remained hard and intensely fixed on her.

She paused, avoiding his eyes. “Do you still have a fever?”

Alastor shook his head. “Thanks to you I believe I’m well. But if you would like to check...” he slid his hand from her shoulder and down her arm to her hand, leaving goosebumps behind. He gently grasped her hand and brought it to his cheek.

“Well?” he asked, cheeks tinted red but smile steadfast.

“Your fever’s gone.” she replied absentmindedly.

They stared at each other silently, Charlie’s hand still pressed against his cheek. Her eyes trailed from his own ruby red eyes down to his lips before flicking back up to his eyes.

“Charlie?” Alastor asked.

Charlie blinked. “O-oh I uh, should go back to my room. It’s morning isn’t it? I-I need to go get ready for the day!” Quickly she pulled her hand out of his and practically rolled out of bed, this time to her feet.

Frantically she scanned the room until she found her shoes and quickly slipped them on.

Alastor sighed in slight disappointment, wondering if he did something wrong.

He looked down to the sheets under him to find her bowtie partially under the comforter. “Forgetting something?” He asked, catching her attention.

She froze with a squeak before turning. “I-uh.” she started, her cheeks a violent red.

Alastor cocked his head in confusion at her odd expression. “Darling are you going to-“

Charlie cut him off when she bent down and clumsily pecked his cheek, nearly crashing into his face. Not a moment later she pulled away and straightened stiffly. “Thank you for everything and I’m glad you’re better! I’ll see ya later Al!” She nearly sprinted out the door, leaving Alastor frozen in place.

After a moment, Alastor let out a breathy chuckle and picked up the bowtie that she’d left behind. He reached over to gently place it on top of his nightstand before rolling over to lay flat on his back.

His head was in a dizzy fog for most of the day yesterday but he could clearly remember it all.

She helped him willingly. She truly cared about his well being and went out of her way to care for him in his time of need. When was the last time anyone actually cared for or about him?

Knowing she was the one voluntarily caring for him sent his heart into a frenzy whenever he thought about it yesterday. If he didn’t know any better he would’ve thought that he truly was physically in worse shape than he initially thought!

But when he heard those words leave her lips he finally realized what exactly this feeling was. Through the fog everything finally clicked into place and seemed clearer than ever. While holding onto Charlie’s hand he thought of his mother and how he felt about her, how much he loved her and how he’d only ever want her affections. It was definitely a pure feeling he’d nearly forgotten, but found it once more in a foolish ancient demon of all things.

Alastor hummed to himself as he rolled out of bed, not feeling 100% yet but oddly feeling lighter than ever.

#charlastor #radiobelle #radiobellefic #charlastorfic #This was so much fun to write!!!#congrats again!

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plotscribbler · 4 years ago

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NSFW story time:

It was a long double at my old restaurant job. I had come back to pick up a few shifts here and there to help me have some pocket money while I got on my feet in my new home some 2 hours away.

My girlfriend got a great new job in a new town and I wasn't transitioning well. I usually welcome change but it was hard to leave the team I had, not to mention shift beers. I poured myself a tall one and sat in a booth on the patio waiting for the manager to lock up and give me ok to leave for the night.

I had another double the next day so my plan was to find a decent parking spot and pass out in the van.

I told the other closer she could leave early as it was a calm night and honestly I reveled in getting even just a few minutes to chat with Cassandra (the manager) before she cuts me off the free beer. Cass is a tom-boyish burnette, who's about 5'4" or so, and her body is that of a Pixar mom: an athletic yet curvy shape with so much ass you can see it from the front.

I'm a flirtatious guy (probably how I ended up as a server in the first place) but to be quite honest it's a miracle I haven't been fired or dumped for the things I say to Cass. She probably doesn't take me seriously, I mean how else do I manage to get nights like this where we're all alone? She's having a glass of wine and I'm keeper of a never ending pint. What could go wrong?

In my typical cringe fashion I offer her a spot at my table "because she's too beautiful to be drinking alone" and she ignores that (while sitting down at my table) before going on a long winded rant about her kids stressing her out before she could even get ready for work.

Which was extra stressful because of how her cat always wakes her up at night to use the window by her bed as a way out to go do cat business.

"The only cat business anyone should have in relation to that window; is getting onto the bed, and in between your thighs"

"hah! I wish"

"Bet! Finish your wine."

"what?"

"I'll follow you home, climb through your window and be gone before sunrise"

"I have kids you idiot" she punches my shoulder "they're gonna hear you climb into the house and if not, they'd definitely hear whatever pervery you think you can concoct in the middle of a school night. Not to mention the neighbors..."

Looking out towards the parking lot Cass pulls a cigarette from her purse.

"Hey, look at me." I pause until we make eye contact "I am 100% consenting to, and capable of..." I pause to feel calm collected and cool before continuing "- tying you up, gagging you, and fucking your brains out."

We both smile "All while pretending to climb in through your window to fulfill your rape-fantasy in a safe way that avoids prying neighbors"

She take a long drag of her cig, looking back out at the parking lot.

"Well?"

With a long exhale "I didn't tell you about my window as some kind of a hint."

"Listen, whether or not you like being taken, I would be much happier to share your bed than to sleep in my van alone."

We sit in silence for a moment. Cass staring off into the distance while I drink my pint and stare at her.

Turning to face me as she ashes her cigarette "What would you even use to tie me up with anyway?"

"The wrappings of love"

"Don't be an ass" she hits my shoulder again, harder this time "what if I were considering to indulge in your lustful insistence for a moment? Huh! How about that! What if that was your chance and you blew it!?"

"Wow, the thought of giving away control, even if only for a moment, it's insidious isn't it?" I smile again "Oh... to be honest I have soft 25' rope somewhere in the van, but my belt works fine in a pinch, might use both if you keep throwing punches at me."

"Honestly, you talk a lot of shit and the thought of humiliating you, if you can't follow through with half the nonsense that comes out of your perverted mouth, is insidious." She finishes her wine "come on!" she stands up.

"Let's go!" I cheer.

"We're not going to my house"

"Oh?"

"No, I'm not taking you home. Show me this rope"

"Alright"

We walk over to the van, in a particularly shady corner of the lot, the back half of said van is packed almost ceiling high with my music equipment I forgot to unload during the move. Part of me is thinking she's gonna troll me, so I try to make like of the situation.

"I'm not gonna tie you up in the parking lot"

"Duh, I just wanna see it."

"You're testing me? We've known each other for 4 years... I'm not a stranger!"

"No, but you say a lot of bullshit, let's say I'm just fact-checking you right now..."

I dig through the music gear in the back (knowing it's not there) "looks like you're in luck, I couldn't tie you up if I wanted to..."

"ugh, see..."

"See what? It's not like you'd consent if I did have it!"

"If you could find the rope I would let you tie my hands behind my back, but you mysteriously can't" Cass says, crossing her arms defiantly.

"You would let me rope your arms behind your back?"

"Sure! Why not? Maybe I will like it!"

"Ok, let me look in the secret hiding spot behind the driver seat." I close the hatch and open up the sliding door. There's a panel on the floor and when I open it Cass gasps.

"Gotcha!" I exclaim.

"Ok, yeah, you got me" she turns her back to me and stretches her arms out behind her. "Tie me up"

"Turn around."

"What?"

"You're not a prisoner of war, this is an intimate thing."

I close the sliding door as Cass faces me.

"Intimate? How-"

"Shhh..." I put a finger to her lips as her chocolate irises lock with my hazel ones "I'm going to take control of you now. Just say ok."

"Ok fi-oh!" she gasps as I grab her by the hips and put her up against the door of the van.

I steal the first kiss on her lips then break away, pressing her against the car with my hand on her chest. Lifting the rope over her shoulder with a flick of my other wrist I see her uncertainty.

"Be still. Do nothing unless I say so, you are perfect."

Cass' eyes light up like she'd never heard that before, like I just opened more possibility than even she knew was available.

I turn her around, pressing my hips against hers, making the rope loops over her shoulder and behind her back then mirroring this over her other shoulder.

"I thought you were going to tie my hands?"

"I'll get there" as I start to lace a knotting pattern from her left arm to her right and back again. Slowly bringing her elbows parallel to each other.

"By the time your wrists are bound you will be ensnared... all mine!" I say with a smirk "I am here to take good care of you."

"Ok, actually this does feel pretty nice, my back needed a stretch anyway..."

"I want you to let go of the control you assume day in and day out and be free. Be mine."

"You're not gonna make me call you daddy are you?"

"No, to be honest, I like being called master or god, because I have an ego that is spoiled rotten, but I wouldn't want something like this to make our work relationship impossible"

"Oh my, that's tight, will you take a picture when you're done? I wanna see."

"Just relax." as I pull her wrists together and tie the final knot "You're all tied up"

I snap a picture with my phone and lean into her from behind to show her.

"Wow this posture really forces my boobs up and out, not that you can see it from this angle"

"Yes, you look incredibly beautiful"

She grabs at my jeans "what are you gonna do now?" Grinding her butt against me.

I pin her to the van with my chest against her arms and whisper in her ear "the way you're tied up right here" rubbing her arm "is the same way I'm tied up in this parking lot." I can't help but bite her ear and smell her thick espresso colored hair "I want your lust, I want your body, and I want dominion over you"

I run my hands from the loops over her shoulders to the small space of skin on her forearms.

"Fuck...." she says with bated breath "Take me"

I wanted to tease her more, but I honestly didn't expect to get this far in even my wildest of fantasies.

Cass was already pulling at my belt, even with her hands bound behind her back she couldn't help but fight to have things her way.

"No" I push her against the van so she can't reach "You're mine right now, you do as I say."

Cass moans with mixed frustration and enjoyment, then she flips her hair into my face "why don't you make me?" wiggling that wonderfully voluptuous backside tauntingly with a wink and smile.

I know what she wanted.

So I spanked her...

This woman has so much ass, her hands weren't even a little bit in the way. I took a handful with the first smack and it was like holding the holy grail.

She cooed, making fists doomed to dangle helplessly amidst an array of slaps on her butt.

"You."

**smack**

"Honestly."

**whip**

"Thought."

**whack**

"That I."

**pop**

"Would just fuck you in this parking lot??" **crack**

"YES!" her voice echoes out in the otherwise quiet and empty space.

We both pause to appreciate the possibility of someone hearing us. I take that moment to unbuckle my belt.

"Fine, I will."

"Do you have a condom?"

"What, you mean you don't want another kid?"

"Don't even joke about that."

I'm pulling her leggings down to her ankles "I only have two packs of 3" then I'm kissing the back of her calf, up her thigh, around a pinkish red handprint, then over to her waist "so I might need a couple more if you don't mind waiting here for me"

"With my arms tied and my pale ass out for the whole wide world to see? No thanks"

"It's decently red now" my jeans fall to the floor

"I know! God..." she inhales when I feel how wet she is "I did not expect you to spank me so hard"

"You liked it" I put my dick up to her hands, letting her get an idea of what I'm going to put inside her.

"I loved it." Cass puts her bodyweight against the van, poking her ass out and spreading her legs.

I thrust along the lips of her dripping pussy while she whispers to me "will you please put a condom on already?"

I smack her clit a couple times with the tip just to hear her groan and clench her eyes shut tight.

"Put. A. Condom. On!" she growls at me impatiently before biting her lower lip.

Seeing my manager like this is giving my life new meaning. I open the driver's door to pull out one of the afore mentioned packs and put one on, leaving the rest on the roof of the van.

The secret ingredient is definitely the crime of it all. I've been shamelessly hitting on my manager since we met, and now I can't help but take my sweet ass time sliding up inside Cassandra on the edge of the parking lot outside of our job.

I always imagined a hotel room or her kitchen, never outside! Not to mention she wanted to get tied up and spanked first! *chef's kiss*

The way she gasps as I push in every inch I have for the first time gives me goosebumps. Her body feels like caramel tastes: you can't quite get enough, but almost can.

I grab her waist on both sides, feeling for that V line at the top of her wonderfully thick thighs.

"Let's start real slow beautiful" I pull back just as patiently, leaving only the tip still inside.

"I love it when you call me beautiful, I don't always feel that way..." she says, gyrating her hips towards me, making me feel like I could already explode!

Wrapping one arm around her belly and sliding the other all the way up her body to take hold of her cappuccino hair "I'm gonna love every illustrious inch of you"

I pin her against the van again, forcing her to take my love at my slow pace but it's like she can't help but push back.

Cassandra quivers with pleasure when I rub her neck. Her eyes widen with worry yet her toes curl so hard they crack when I give her neck a squeeze. "Why are you so goddamned amazing!?" she asks aloud between gasps of air and kisses.

That sends me over the top! "Fuck, ...fuck I'm coming!"

"Oh... see, it's good you have more condoms."

Still thrusting out of a burning

desire to not let this moment end "Here, I'm gonna untie you before I put another one on."

"Already?"

"Yeah, I don't want you to lose circulation"

"No, that's fine, I mean you're already putting another condom on?"

"No way am I done after just 1... did you even come yet?"

"No but I'm pretty close"

"Ok then, get in and lay down" I gesture to the middle seats of the van.

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castielismyfavouriteangel · 5 years ago

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Thunderstorm

This....this fic really didn’t wanna be written the way it acted up while writing xD And although I thought it would be a one-Shot like the rest, I ended up with 3 chapters and 5.7k words. This was NOT planned xD Thanks once again to @bend-me-shape-me, @helianthus21 and @pray4jensen for creating this challenge :*

Read the rest here on AO3

“And now to the weather forecast. Meteorologists say there’s a huge storm system building up over the eastern states that’ll unload right over Kansas over the next few days. Don’t panic, stock up on a few necessities and you’ll be fine. It’s not the apocalypse after all.”

The news guy gave his audience a wink when the program changed to commercials.

“Awesome, we’re gonna be locked in even more, besides this whole quarantine-crap.”

“Dean! This quarantine isn’t crap! There are very vulnerable people out there who will survive because we stayed put in the Bunker!” Cas scolded him, all the while not being too fond himself of the coming storm.

Ever since the falling of the angels and the loss of his wings, he’s reminded of the loss whenever he hears thunder. He just misses the effect the sound of thunder gave the whole ‘showing his wings’ thing. It was mostly just to show off, the thunder clapping wasn’t necessary, but being an angel had some advantages and angels are full of themselves so a little show-off is just their thing.

But still, whenever he heard thunder he thought of his wings and it hurt. A lot. So he usually went away when there was a storm coming so he could suffer in private, but with the whole quarantine ordeal going on, going away wasn’t an option. He had to find a way to suffer in silence.

The wind took up over the next few days and by the second day light rain started to fall which then turned into pouring rain by the third day. The wind got to storm speed and although the clouds have been dark for a while, now they got pitch black. It was starting.

When the first clap of thunder echoed through the bunker Cas was sitting in the library, trying but failing to read a book on Siren lore.

“I’m gonna go take a shower and maybe rest for a while. See you later.” he got up and walked in the direction of the bedrooms. He had no intention to actually do any of the activities he just told Sam and Dean, but he had to get away from them before he lost his cool about this storm.

“Did that seem weird to you, too?” Dean asked his brother with furrowed brows.

“He’s been acting strange since this storm was announced on the news. You think that’s a coincidence?”

“Dean, when is anything about Cas a coincidence. Maybe he’s just afraid of storms and doesn’t wanna lose his strong face. If you’re so worried, why don’t you go and ask him?”

Sam looked up from his book and expectantly at Dean.

“I don’t know. Seemed like he wanted to be left alone.” Dean replied and sat back in his armchair, Laptop on his lap but not actually doing anything with it.

After about 15 Minutes of mindless scrolling through Reddit and Tumblr (seriously, those Supernatural fans had awesome ideas about gadgets), a few more loud thunderclaps and Cas not returning to the library Dean got worried. Sure, Cas said he wanted to rest, but who sleeps during a thunderstorm?

“I’m gonna go look after Cas. Something smells fishy about this.”

Sam only replied with a barely audible hum of acknowledgement and Dean walked towards Cas’ bedroom. It was on the very end of the hallway, but Cas insisted on it.

When he was almost at the door, Dean could hear faint whimpering coming from the bedroom, almost like someone was in pain.

With 2 large strides he was at the door and opened it without knocking. The view he had broke his heart.

Cas was crouching at the foot of his bed, his head between his knees, his arms over his head and was apparently shaking violently.

“Cas!” It was barely more than a whisper, but Cas apparently heard him since he turned his head so fast it was a miracle he didn’t pull a muscle.

“Dean, what are you doing here?” Cas’ voice was rough, and shaky, and barely audible.

He rushed over to his best friend and crouched down, touching him wherever he could, trying to ground the other man.

“Cas, Buddy, what’s going on, are you hurt? Talk to me!”

Cas grabbed Dean’s arms so hard it hurt, but Dean didn’t show any of it.

“It - it hurts, Dean!” “Where? Where does it hurt, tell me what I can do.” Dean tried to stay calm, but the obvious distress his friend was in made his stomach cramp and he had trouble breathing.

“It’s - it’s not physical, Dean. I’m not actively hurt.” Cas wiped his face with his sleeve.

“It’s the emotional pain I can’t deal with. I can heal wounds in seconds, but the wounds on my soul just won’t heal. No matter how much time goes by.” “Cas, I can’t follow, what are you talking about?”

There was a loud clap of thunder and Dean caught a glimpse of the burnt remains of Cas’ once gorgeous wings.

“My wings, Dean. I’m missing my wings so much it hurts! I used to look forward to thunderstorms because I could bring my wings over to this plane without anyone noticing, because it would be covered by the storm, so now every time there’s a thunderstorm I get reminded of what I’ve lost and it just hurts so much!” Cas started sobbing again, so Dean sat down besides him and pulled him into a tight hug.

There wasn’t really anything he could do about this. He couldn’t take the pain away from him, he knew how much mental wounds can hurt, but there was no pain killer for that.

So Dean started talking. About the storms he and Sam sat through as kids, how they would make S’Mores over the burner of the gas stove when the power went out, how they would tell each other stories while holding a flashlight under their chin, so the face would look creepy, how they would hide under blankets when it was a really bad storm and Sam would get scared. Dean left out the detail that he was scared, too, but kept his brave face for his brother’s sake. How they would go out as soon as the storm was over to breath in the fresh petrichor smell they both loved so much.

After a while of talking Dean notices Cas had calmed down a little. He wasn’t shaking anymore and the crying had subsided.

He carefully opened his arms, so Cas could sit up again.

He wiped his face once again to get rid of the remains of his tears.

“Thank you, Dean. Thank you for staying and for looking for me in the first place. I usually seek solitude when there’s a storm coming so no one sees me like this. Being this vulnerable is - hard for me to cope with. I’m not used to such strong emotions. But I guess being cut off from heaven for an extended amount of time will do that to you. You slowly become more human, with the good feelings and the bad ones.” he looked at his hands, like there was more to say, but he doesn’t want to.

Dean gently grabs Cas' chin, turning his face to meet his.

“Cas, hey. I can see there’s more to that. Please talk to me, I’m really worried about you.”

He stroked Cas’ cheek with his thumb, not quite ready to let go of that shadow of the man he thought he knew.

“It’s…” Cas started, but had to clear his throat first.

“It all started a few months after I was cut off of heaven. I noticed I could...feel things, things my angel self used to suppress but couldn’t do so anymore. In the beginning it was just small stuff like hunger or thirst or even sadness. I still didn’t need to eat, but the vessel would crave things from time to time. Like sweets or Burgers.” he stopped talking and looked like he was contemplating if he should continue talking. But since he had already started he finished his rambling.

“But then there were completely new feelings. Like lust, longing - love.” there was a pause before he said the last word. Like he didn’t want to admit that particular feeling. He almost seemed like he was ashamed of feeling it.

“And sometimes all of those feelings were overshadowed by that dreadful sadness and feeling of loss. There were times when it would just suddenly roll over me and I would almost choke on the sensation. Sometimes it was worse, sometimes not as strong, but it always took me by surprise.” Dean grabbed Cas’ hands and squeezed them a little.

“Cas, why didn’t you ever say something? You went through helluva lot with us since you dragged my sorry ass out of hell and died more times than I wanna think about. That had to leave a few scars. And unfortunately ignoring those scars doesn’t do shit to lessen the pain. Quite the contrary actually, the more you ignore them, the more it’ll hurt the next time around, I know what I’m talking about. Which is why I started to actually open up to Sam from time to time. He probably hates me for all the crap I lay on him, but he can do the same with me if he needs to, so we’re even. Maybe we should come to a similar arrangement? I rant to you when Sam can’t deal with my shit and you can come and lay all your crap on me. Does that sound like a deal to you?”

Dean smiled brightly at Cas whose face turned to stone.

“No!” There wasn’t even a hint of sadness left on his face, it was all rage and anger now.

“Thank you for the offer, but I can deal with this myself. I don’t need your help. And I’m feeling better now that the storm has passed, you can leave now.”

Cas abruptly stood up, leaving Dean with the sudden cold of the empty space besides him on the floor.

“Uh, did I say something wrong? I just tried to help.”

“I don’t need your help, Dean. Don’t judge me based on your own standards. You have no idea what I’ve been through. I’d like to be alone, now, so please. Leave.”

Cas walked over to the door which was still slightly afar, Dean didn’t bother with closing it when he had seen Cas on the floor, and held it open, so Dean could go.

“I’m sorry, Cas. I don’t know what I said to upset you, but I apologize.” “Just go, please.”

A few moments later Dean entered the library again where Sam was still hunched over his Laptop and at least 3 books.

“You’ve been gone for a while. Everything alright?” “Seriously? I have no idea.”

#SPNStayAtHome #Monday 7: Thunderstorm #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #Sam winchester #hurt/comfort #just two idiots not knowing they're in love with each other #but there's pie #Sam ships it #Mentioning of past trauma #my writing #fanfiction #destiel fanfiction

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cromulentbookreview · 5 years ago

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Werewolves of Florida

I saw a werewolf with a parrilla menu in his hand /

Walking through the streets of Miami in the rain /

He was looking for a place called Novecento /

Gonna get a big dish of entraña /

Aaoooooo /

Werewolves of Florida /

Aaoooooo /

Sorry.

(I’m not sorry. Aaooooooo!)

And by that, I mean: Lobizona by Romina Garber!

Well, if you’d expect werewolves to show up in America, where else but Florida?

Ha. Florida. The butt of so many jokes. It’s easy to make fun of Florida (fun, too!), so as a lifelong resident of the Pacific Northwest...I’m going to continue making fun of Florida, a state I’ve never been to and will likely never visit as I have no intention of being eaten by a gator or a python or a python gator or whatever insane creatures live down there.

I kid, I’m sure there are places in Florida that are perfectly lovely. They just happen to coexist with the insanity that is the rest of Florida.

Anyway! Werewolves in Florida! It sounds possible. Seriously, could you imagine the headlines? “Florida werewolf brings drugs to a drug bust, gets himself busted”? “Florida werewolf charged with assault with deadly weapon after throwing alligator through Wendy’s drive-thru window”?

In this case, however, there aren’t just werewolves in Florida, but Brujas as well! Both sound like people you would find in Florida. “Florida Bruja drops pants, licks man, dances naked in Waffle House parking lot”?

Where was I? Oh. Yes. Lobizona by Romina Garber!

Seventeen-year-old Manuela Azul (she goes by Manu) and her mother, Soledad, have been living in Miami illegally for most of Manu’s life. Manu has a strange eye condition, in which her pupils and irises look like stars so she has to wear sunglasses 24/7 to avoid freaking other people out. Though I’m certain if she walked into an optometrist’s convention with eyes like those she’d immediately be the most popular girl in the whole room, but since she and her mom are in the country illegally, that sort of attention would be very, very bad.

Soledad had to flee Argentina because Manu’s father, Fierro, was supposedly high up with some bad people who disapproved with his relationship with Soledad. So much so that they killed him, sending Soledad into hiding. If they knew Soledad was alive, and that Manu even existed, Fierro’s people would kill them both.

And, as if hiding from Fierro’s people were bad enough, Manu and Soledad are on a constant lookout for ICE. If their apartment building is raided by ICE, they could be deported, back to Argentina where they’d be sitting ducks for Fierro’s murderous family and friends. So Manu has lived a sheltered life within a tiny apartment with her mom and their elderly friend Perla, who has sheltered them for years.

And! As if being an undocumented immigrant with freaky-eye syndrome forever anxious that the next car might be full of ICE agents while stuck in a tiny apartment was bad enough, Manu also - also! - suffers from horrible periods. Joy. Every month, her mom gives her a special pill that puts her to sleep for three straight days just so she sleep through the pain. That’s shit makes PCOS sound like a walk in the park. (Note: do not go for a walk in the park right now and if you do remain 6 feet away from everyone else at all times). Also, where can I get a hold of a drug that can let me sleep through my period? I like the sound of that.

So Manu has spent much of her life dreaming of escape and a life without fear. Currently, her only hope is the knowledge that her mom is doing her best to get them both legal status. Then one day, Manu notices some strange people hanging around her apartment building. Then Perla is attacked and hospitalized. In a panic, Manu rushes off to find her mom...only to find that Soledad has been lying to her for quite some time. Soledad isn’t a maid for some rich lady - she works at an underground Miami clinic. And she never intended to apply for legal status for her and Manu.

Just as she’s reeling from this revelation, ICE raids the underground clinic. From here, the story takes a weird left-turn. On the run, Manu leaps into the back of a truck, and, after a long ride that sounded way more comfortable than a long ride in the bed of a truck should sound (seriously, there’s no jostling, no being flung about, no wind burn...I get that Florida is pretty flat, but aren’t there potholes? Rocks? Also, isn’t it illegal for someone to ride in the bed of a truck? How did no one else not see her and call the cops?) she ends up deep within the Florida Everglades. After somehow hopping out of the guy’s truck without him noticing that she was ever in there (again, how??? I drive a truck and would absolutely notice if someone were hitching a ride back there. Hey, how come I’m fishtailing significantly less than I usually do? Oh, wait, there’s a human back there) Manu stumbles upon...

A secret school for brujas and werewolves. In the Florida Everglades. And she meets people her age who have eyes just like hers. Suddenly, the puzzle pieces start fitting together - her father must have been a part of this society, not some criminal organization. Manu is half magic. She’s living the ultimate Harry Potter dream! And, somehow, without paying tuition or applying, Manu is allowed to join the school. Finaly, Manu has somewhere that she belongs, and even begins to make friends. She even starts making eyes at a hunky werewolf named Tiago.

There’s just one problem, though. The society that Manu has found herself in has some pretty strict gender roles. Girls are brujas, guys are werewolves. Period, end of sentence. But, even though she definitely belongs among this magical society, Manu doesn’t really have the powers of a bruja. She’s something else.

And there is one thing her mom wasn’t lying about - Fierro’s people are still pissed. Brujas and werewolves are not supposed to have relationships with humans. It’s forbidden. Like, really forbidden. Ultra forbidden. If Manu is found to be half-human, she’ll be killed.

So Manu has traded living forever in fear being an undocumented immigrant in America...for living forever in fear being half-human in a world of magical creatures who think hybrids are evil.

Good luck with that, Manu! Also, there’s still the question of the whereabouts of her still missing father. Is he dead? Alive? And what is Manu, if she’s not a bruja?

(If you speak Spanish, the title is a dead giveaway. Let me give you a hint: Manu’s hair is perfect. Aaooooo!)

Despite a couple of hiccups in the beginning - the book starts pretty slow before taking that weird left-turn into the Everglades and Bruja Werewolf academy. And, as is typical in the first book of a series, much time is spent establishing everything, and less on giving us closure or answers to the big questions. Like, for example, the fate of Mimitos. See, Manu has one friend in the apartment complex, an adorable cat named Mimitos. Mimitos’s owner is a bit senile, so Manu takes care of him...only after Manu flees after Perla is attacked, Mimitos disappears and is promptly never mentioned again. What happened to Mimitos? Is he OK? Is someone feeding him or giving him water and pets and cuddles and WHAT HAPPENED TO THE MIMITOS, ROMINA?!!?! I demand answers.

Maybe he went off to live in the Cat Kingdom from The Cat Returns? Maybe? Probably? Hopefully?

Ahem. Well, my ability to render a serious and well-thought out book review in the time of COVID-19 has gone to shit, so I’ll be brief. Lobizona is gorgeously written and a fascinating blend of YA contemporary and YA fantasy. I also love the warring gender dynamics within the magical society of brujas and werewolves - not everyone loves the strict binary, or the fact that they’re not allowed to hang out with humans. Ultimately, Lobizona is a brilliant story of a girl looking desperately for a place to belong within not just one, but two worlds that don’t want her - that have deemed her wrong. Illegal. And Manu is tired of that bullshit. If the human and magical worlds don’t want her, damn it, she’s going to go off and find a place that does.

Go forth and kick ass, Manu!

Another aspect of the book that I really liked (your mileage may vary, depending on how big of a language nerd you are) is how Garber discussed how there are many different dialects of Spanish. Argentinian Spanish apparently has a sing-song quality which makes me wonder if the English dialect equivalent of Argentinian Spanish would be Upper Midwest English, you know, like in Fargo. The Upper Midwest was settled heavily by Scandinavian immigrants and the Scandinavian languages do have a sing-song quality to them, then, well...

I'd love to know more about the different dialects of Spanish. If only I'd learned Spanish. I didn’t. I learned German, Schwachkopf that I am.

Which brings me to my rant, because I do love to rant. This does have something to do with Lobizona. Kind of. Anyway:

One of my biggest pet peeves in fiction is untranslated dialog. For some reason it really irks me, mostly because it reminds me of how dumb I am and how I should have learned more than just one other foreign language. I mean, seriously, I should have learned Spanish. I never did because I was that contrary moron who, upon seeing that everyone else was taking Spanish said, “screw you, I’ll take German!” Ultimately a bad idea, but, hey, Deutsch ist eine Wunderschöne Sprache. I don’t mind bits of untranslated stuff, so long as there are context clues as to what they might be saying.

I also find it annoying to have a sentence in a different language, and then have the sentence immediately after translate the preceding sentence. For readers that are fluent in both languages, you just made them read the same sentence twice, unless there’s a bilingual bonus in there. For readers out there who don’t speak that language, their eyes just glaze over and they skip the dialog entirely, in favor of the translation. Why not just say they were speaking in [insert foreign language here] then continue on?

I mean, I get wanting to show off your foreign language skills, or make the reader feel good about their language skills, or give a nod to fellow native speakers who also have had to master the cluster fuck of a language that is English (seriously, one of the best descriptions of the English language I’ve read is that English is basically three children in a trench coat pretending to be an adult, but as a language). Still, I find untranslated dialog super annoying. Because I dumb.

The worst example of this that I’ve ever encountered (and probably what soured me for any other instances of untranslated dialog ever in the future) was in this terrible translation of Thomas Mann’s The Magic Mountain that I read in college - you’d think an English translation of a German book would be entirely in English...yeah no, 3/4 of the way in, I found myself facing pages - multiple pages! - of untranslated....French.

French!

In a book that had already been translated from the German.

Damn it, translator, was there some sort of contract dispute in which you said, “well, they’re paying me to translate the book from German to English, so I’ll just leave these several pages of French conversation untranslated.”

Rrraaaage.

I was already frustrated with that book (it’s not great) but slogging through several pages of untranslated French with zero footnotes or even a translation provided in the afterward made me want to set the book on fire.

What does this have to do with Lobizona? Very little, except there are a few instances of untranslated dialog that, even if you speak zero Spanish, you’ll be able to figure out pretty quick. It just gave me awful Zauberberg flashbacks that brought back all that rrrrrage.

Fuck it, guys, we’re in the middle of a pandemic, and I promise cromulent reviews, not good ones.

RECOMMENDED FOR: Anyone looking for an amazing blend of YA contemporary lit and fantasy that features kickass werewolves living in the Florida Everglades.

NOT RECOMMENDED FOR: Bigots, assholes, people who use the word “illegals” to refer to other human beings, werewolves who hate brujas, brujas who hate werewolves, non YA fantasy fans, anyone who objects to YA fiction containing actual real world problems.

RATING:4/5

RELEASE DATE: May 5, 2020

WEREWOLF RATING:

HOW TERRIFIED I AM OF COVID-19 RIGHT NOW:

Ahahahahaha I’m scared you guys. I still have to commute via public transportation to work downtown in a major city.

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justgotawesome · 6 years ago

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I really need to just write down my thoughts on things so this is a warning that below here I will be talking about things from the entire film. Actually wrote most of this yesterday but felt the need to see it another time in case feelings change. So if you haven’t been stupidly given it early like me (wtf Universal) please don’t read this. Okay here we go with SPOILERS ABOUT MANY THINGS

(this first bit turned out to be a long rant, didn’t realize I had as big an issue with the film until I actually began writing hahah) And again this is all just my opinion.

First off, I’m just gonna say this - I don’t think either sequel was a necessary one. The first film doesn’t warrant any continuation beyond wanting to be back in the world with the characters again. And then the 2nd film does that, but with a story that they made worthy of telling. The 3rd did not. Because again the 2nd film doesn’t warrant a sequel in the slightest either. Like that could have been it, same with the first, but it feels like they just wanted to have all the dragons leave. You know? Like they wanted that moment to happen and so they did a 3rd film. HTTYD2 doesn’t feel like they had one specific thing in mind and made a whole film for it, it feels like they came up with a bunch of ideas (time gap definitely helped) and kept rolling with them while adding more making a movie that feels natural and gives the story another chapter very different and unique but just as grand as the first. 3rd film feels like they had the one idea and then simply had to come up with other things so that one thing could happen, therefore making the other things not feel natural at all and instead forced. And honestly I don’t care for that one thing, it felt forced and unnatural too. All the dragons leaving just because it’s safer for them. The other films do show a world unsafe for dragons, but not by the end of each one. I mean if they had hinted at this more in the 2nd film it would have worked better in the 3rd, but the 2nd film was just all Drago, and at the end I personally didn’t think a single dragon was still “unsafe” in the above world. And at the end of this movie, the other bad guys that show up died! So what’s unsafe again? Each film ends with safety, why’d they still leave? Like I get it was more of “you’ll most likely never be safe staying with us.” but fuuck that. That whole moment was really weak storytelling.

I mean everything they did to get there was just too obvious, more convenient bad guys, Toothless finding a mate and having a “reason” to leave, a hidden world that Stoick was “obsessed” with but was never spoken about or mentioned in any other way before. Also why didn’t Toothless kill Grimmel immediately on that cliff? That was an odd moment considering everything that’s happened and was happening.

I feel awkward having used the word perfect before, I think I was just riding the emotions I felt during the final scene. I mean I doubt I’ll ever think any film is perfect, but my love for them definitely is. So despite all the main plots of this feeling unnatural, the supporting characters were sometimes true to themselves from and I love them so fucking much it hurts. So my love for them is perfect, despite the film not being so at all. Side-note, what was with that one weird fade in after the first “I’m with him, who else?!” to them flying away? It looked terrible, a simple cut would have been much nicer.

Anyway moving on.

Really wish there had been a third Stoick memory, like after the dragons leave and before the wedding, not exactly sure what he would be saying but I needed one more, maybe something with him and Val while she was pregnant to do with family Idk. And I hope they didn’t cut anything, if they cut a single second of Stoick I’m gonna be really upset. Gods Stoick not being there with Hiccup was painful throughout. And I’m gonna say this, so don’t hate me because we’re all going to be thinking it forever - Stoick never got to hug his grandkids. He never got to know them and love them and grow old with Val and be so proud of his son and daughter-in-law and all that they do. That fucking breaks my heart more than anything.

Glad Snotlout, Fishlegs, Tuff & Ruff got plenty of moments, even if all they had were comedic arcs again. There was just so much of them though, I loved that! Sure they did stupid things that didn’t make sense to further the plot, but whatever. All their armor was dope too. A little thing about Eret however, while he was there plenty, during the big fight at the end we saw no action from him? There must have been a cut moment, like he shows up and we don’t see him fight with anyone. Unless it was a bit into the background, there is one shot where he might be to the right but I missed it again. But still that was odd.

And the new dragon, really surprised it turned out to simply be a female Night Fury. I assumed it was a subspecies that was connected enough and therefore still able to mate with Toothless but nope so like why does she not look like him? There has never been a case of a dragon’s gender causing them to look so different. But then their kids are a mix between the two so wtf? And not gonna lie, it does seem like they wanted to make her more feminine. I mean again, I assumed it was a subspecies so both genders looked like that, but nope. Just a female NF. I don’t know, it’s weird, right? And why does Grimmel not care for her as much as Toothless, she’s another NIGHT FURY. Like he goes “not possible” to hearing about Toothless but seeing her he’s not all “WTF ANOTHER ONE? HOW????” that was weird too. EDIT: I’ve apparently learned it is a subspecies, weird that I assumed that going in, but coming out and from what the film told me I thought I was wrong. Grimmel says “A female...”, like what else is that supposed to mean? Oh well hahah. Design makes sense at least.

Speaking of Grimmel though, at first he seems like a completely different person and it was interesting but then really he’s pretty much just a Drago 2.0. Like it could’ve just been Drago again, he did HAVE a Night Fury cloak in the 2nd film so him having hunted them all to extinction would add up. Really interested to know what his actual arc in this movie was gonna be.

But still so many good little moments in the film, like gods they dress the sheep up like little dragons it was so adorable! And how much they built on Berk in merely a year, I don’t buy it haha. Something doesn’t add up there but whatever that place looked amazing. Oh and that Crimson Goregutter, what an awesome dragon that dude was.

Oh and I also have to mention the moment at the end where Toothless jumps onto the boat. It really bugs me. I understand completely he wouldn’t immediately recognize Hiccup (what with the beard and whatnot haha) but having it go on for SOOOOOO long and Astrid cowering and trying to make us, the viewer, uncertain, really fucking belittled their bond with one another. Like it’s been under a decade, if he was an old man, it would work, completely, but he just has a beard and kids what is the difference here? As if they’re telling us Toothless would that easily forget him, pfft. I at first thought he was messing with Hiccup but then it’s his hand that makes Toothless remember or something. That was a weird choice to make. (sigh) But then they fly together and that first shot of Hiccup’s hair blowing in the wind made me feel how I felt during the end of the last two and it was perfect for doing that.

To sum it up, I find that despite HTTYD’s proper ending to the story HTTYD2 was a great extra chapter in so many ways and that it also had a proper ending making HTTYD3 not really a story that needed to be told or worthy of it, aside from being back in the world with the characters again. Like everything that didn’t have to do with the main story was pretty good. Just seemed like all they had was the dragons leaving and so the whole movie conveniently pushes towards that but still having it not make any sense at all. Like nothing the main characters or story did made sense. I mean at the end, bad guys died, island’s more remote and safer, maybe just stop bringing back every dragon you free? I recently read an article with Jay and he said about the emotional stuff “not sad for the sake of sad” but that’s exactly what this film’s sadness at the end seemed to be, unlike the first two. Still, really happy it wasn’t a permanent thing considering how unnatural it was and that it didn’t end with Hiccup saying those final words to his grandkids or something.

But no matter how many flaws I have with it, I do love this series with all of my heart and I’m never gonna stop caring about these characters as deeply as I do. And the first two films are so beautiful in so many ways, I truly wish we could stay in that world forever because it really is a perfect one. But alas.

#matt babbles #httyd #httydthw

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gotforthe7 · 7 years ago

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Got7 reaction to them confessing and finding out you feel the same way <3

This was requested by Anon! I hope you enjoy reading just as much as I enjoyed writing! It’s kinda long, so sorry about that! <3 ALSO GUESS WHO’S GOING TO BTS IN OCTOBER?? (maybe me)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*Mark! *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When Mark decided to confess after years of knowing you, he figured he wanted to do it as quick and simple as possible. So he texted your phone, asking you to meet him at the local coffee shop near your house as he needed to tell you something important. You obviously agreed and met him outside on the little bench. When he saw you, his face lit up as it usually did but there was also a hint of worry in his eyes. He pulled you inside and ordered your favourite drink before deciding that now was the right time.

“Look Y/n, I didn’t just bring you here for a nice chat and drink. As you know, we’ve known each other for a long time and some might say that we are the best of friends! Of course, I’m perfectly fine with that but I can’t help but think if you and I were more then just friends and people would think of us as the cutest of couple. Again, I understand if you don’t want any of this but I just couldn’t hold it in any longer.”

Mark tightened the grip of his cup in embarrassment and then froze when he felt the warm sensation of your palm on the back of his hand. He looked up and saw that you were smiling and relaxed. “For the record, I was really hoping you would say that because I feel the exact same way.” you said shyly, bringing your hair around your face. Mark chuckled lightly before continuing to bring your hair back around your ear. And it was at that he realised he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

｡･ﾟﾟ･Jaebum! ･ﾟﾟ･｡

Not even going to lie, Jaebum felt very confident indeed. Mentally, he was super sure that you both shared the same feelings for each other so he thought that he would just wing it and give it a try. As the day went on, he finally took out his phone after a long session of dance practice and saw that you had texted him. Jb was delighted to see that the text message was about movie night and what time you’d be expecting him. He eagerly texted back saying that he’d be around at about four before rushing off home to have a quick shower. Tonight was the night he was going to confess and he couldn’t be sweaty whatsoever.

Fast forward a few hours later, you and him were nearly pissing yourself laughing at whatever it was you were talking about. You were still giggling after Jaebum calmed down and that was when he finally had the chance to admire you and your beauty. That was also the time where he just couldn’t help himself any longer.

“Y/n listen to me for a sec. I like you, a lot and I want to you to be mine. I want to show you off and make all the boys feel jealous of me because I’m the one that got you, not them! I want to be known as your world, your true love, your one and only, your boy-”

As he was in the middle of ranting, you gently put a hand to his mouth to stop him and whispered lightly “Just kiss me you moron!”

＊✿❀Jackson! ❀✿＊*

Jackson thought that the best way to confess to you, was to play it cool and not to worry. His plan was that if he did get rejected, he would just pretend like he was joking and move on. No big deal. However at the date of his confession crept up, he felt himself being dragged under the depths of stress and worry. What if you did actually reject him? What would he do with his broken heart and would he ever be able to fix it again?

You sensed that Jackson was on edge as soon as he turned up at your house. He said he needed to talk to you about something and of course you invited him right over as it might’ve been serious. Walking into your home, Jackson fiddled with his hands and looked as pale as a ghost. This made you fill with panic and almost instantly you asked him what was wrong. He took a deep breath and with his eyes still closed, said:

“I like you okay? I like you more then a best friend should and I don’t know if you feel the same way but I just couldn’t hold it any longer. Ever since I met you, I’ve just felt this warm feeling in my stomach. I asked the boys and they said it was love which obviously I laughed at as that was just absurd at the time. But now I see it clearly. I can see that I’m in love with you.’

You breathed a sign of relief and then smiled. “Oh Jackson, sometimes you can be so oblivious because I’ve been hinting that I’ve liked you for ages now!’

♡+:｡.｡Jinyoung! ｡.｡:+♡*♥

Jinyoung confessed in the heat of the moment. The situation would be that you two would be in a very serious and competitive pillow fight. You taking a strong hit to the back and him taking a strong hit to the face. After the war had ended (and he let you win) you both would melt into his bed, panting and chuckling at the what just happened.

Then he would look around at you and see everything that made you attracted to him. The way your eyes crinkled when you laughed or the way your hair stuck to your forehead whenever it got sweaty. He even took note on the way you breathed and how relaxing that sound was. He realised in that moment he was falling in love with you.

“Y/n? Please don’t ask why I’m feeling this way or when I began to feel this way because I just don’t have the answers right now but I like you. More then a friend. More then a best friend. I like you like Romeo loves Juliet. I like you like Jack loves Rose. I like you like a boyfriend loves a girlfriend and I know this not what you expected or even maybe wanted but that’s just how I feel and i’m so-”

Oh come on, there had to be an interrupting kiss somewhere in this reaction!

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡Youngjae! +..｡*ﾟ+

Youngjae had it all planned out. He would take you to where you and him first met. The pier. He would drag you on all sorts of rides, fill you up with all sorts of junk food and the last event of the night would be to confess to you and don’t worry, he had that planned out too.

At the end of the day, the last thing we wanted to do with you was to take a picture in the famous photo booth. You both huddled inside, shoulder to shoulder and smiled widely. In the corner of your eye, as the countdown counted down from 10, you saw Youngjae get piece of white, thin paper out of his bag and held it to his chest so that when the picture was taken, the paper would be shown.

You both climbed out the booth, ready to see the pictures that were taken to commemorate these memories. That’s when your heart dropped. The sheet of paper that Youngjae had held up, wasn’t blank. In big bold letters read:

‘I LIKE THIS GIRL’

accompanied by an arrow pointing towards you. You closed your eyes, mentally disciplining yourself at forgetting where you were in the first place. You turned around and laughed at Youngjae’s awkward expression. You strutted over to him, leaned up and whispered in his ear “You’re so extra and I like you too”

✿✼:*BamBam! *:✼✿

If someone were to look for you and BamBam, it would be in the dance studio. You two were inseparable when it came to dancing and everyone held a trance when they saw you two together, spinning, twirling etc. But tonight was different. Both of you were distracted.

By different things of course! You were distracted by your phone, more specifically the text messages on your phone. A boy from your class had somehow gotten your number and decided to text you in the middle of dance practice. It was quite obvious that this boy was into you but unfortunately, you had eyes for someone else (shocker) As for BamBam, he was distracted by you and how your hips moved in just the right way with the rhythm, how your hands just had a mind of their own whenever you moved your feet, how your hair bounced up and down as if it was in the wind.

But he was also angry at you. He caught sight at one of the few text messages and felt his heart shatter. Where you really into this guy? Unfortunately, this lead to you two having a massive fight in the middle of the studio and caused BamBam to brain vomit

“You wanna know the truth? Well let me tell you! I got jealous over that guy you were texting because that guy is meant to be me! I’m the one who should be taking you out and making you feel good about yourself but i’m not and that’s what frustrates me!”

A silence loomed over both of you, with both your hearts beating incredibly fast. Suddenly you walked over to him and put his head in your hands “You are that guy Bam, you were never not that guy”

☆♬○♩●Yugyeom! ●☆♬○♩

It was the evening after graduation. You and Yugyeom were sitting on his roof, talking about the joys and horrors of high school. You were best friends and managed to pull each other through school. Finally the day had come and in a few weeks both of you would be splitting for college. Yay.

Don’t get me wrong, you were both happy for each other that you both got in. But there would be unfinished business and Yugyeom refused to let you walk away that easily. After you had finished reminding each other of school, you both sat there quietly, enjoying the sunset that staged itself in front of you both. Now was the time; he thought

“Y/n, this is such bad timing and your probably gonna laugh when you find out but I like you, more than a friend and I have done since the 9th grade! But there’s no use now. We’re both gonna forget about each other and move on. I would say I’m okay with that but I’m really not.”

You sensed the dark cloud that suddenly appeared above Yugyeom head and thought quickly. “Oh sweetie, are you serious? I’ve liked you since the 8th grade, do you really think I was gonna let you get away that easily?”

Hope you enjoyed reading!

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geenozah · 7 years ago

Text

apparently i can only write one-shots for these two lol. anyways, uraraka wants to go for a drive and invites bakugou. it’s something they both need, it turns out.

...

“Are you at home?” she asks, forgetting to say hello.

He recognizes her voice, the slight edge to her tone.

“Why?”

He hears her let out a long breath over the phone.

“Wanna go driving with me?”

He laughs, sharp. “You know you can fly?”

“I can’t really fly fast though.”

“Got me for that,” he says, seeing how much he can get out of her. “Can go piggybacking like we used to.”

She laughs, soft.

“Please? I just...I need to go for a drive, you know?”

He grunts. “No.” And hears her smile through the phone.

“Thank you. I’ll be at yours in about ten minutes, okay? I’ll text you when I’m there.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

...

She hasn’t said much; they’ve been driving along a winding country road for about ten minutes now, and the silence is annoying, especially cause he knows it’s something serious. For her not to talk...

“Spit it out,” he says, arm hanging out the window. It’s hot and the breeze is welcome and he likes the way her hair blows in the wind.

She turns and looks at him, flexing her fingers on the steering wheel. Her eyes settle on his lips, his gaze too intense. He quirks a brow.

“If I won the lottery,” she says, “I could just drive off. I could just drive away on a day like this. It’s so beautiful out, you know?”

Sunlight streams through the windows, making her cheeks look pinker than normal.

His eyes narrow. “What's going on?”

She smiles, but her chin trembles, so she snaps her head forward to avoid looking at him. She laughs a second later, turning on the music.

“I just uh...I had a bad day. It’s stupid,” she says, wiping her eyes, and turning the dial to another station. He frowns. She wants to apologize, but knows he’d hate it.

It’s just how they are; her ranting and him not seeing the point and telling her so – The fuck would I wanna talk about it? Doesn’t change anything. Doesn’t do anything – he told her once. They circled that drain over and over until one day she exploded, telling him to Shut up, shut up, shut up! His way isn’t the only way! Sometimes she doesn’t want a solution, she just wants to talk, jerk!

He didn’t speak to her for a whole day after that…but it’s different now. She still rants and he still rolls his eyes, but he’s bent a little, navigating through other people’s emotions in a way he can understand and reciprocate. It’s their way.

“Take the next turn.”

She blinks. “What?”

“Next right, idiot,” he tilts his chin. “I know a place...you’ll like it.”

She smiles, nodding.

“Do I get a hint?” she asks after the next song starts.

“No.”

She laughs.

...

“Here?” she says when he instructs her to park the car. “I was expecting you to take me for some ice cream or something,” she teases, ignoring his scowl.

They’re at the top of a cliff, one that Bakugou told her about a while ago when she mentioned how much she loved driving through the country. It’s only got space for about five cars, so Uraraka parks on the far left. She’s happy that they seem to be the only ones here.

They get out of the car, Bakugou with more purpose, while Uraraka takes in the scenery. There’s only one bench, and the little patch of grass is outlined by a wooden fence. He watches her stretch out her arms in delight, eyeing the city below. It’s drowning in sunlight; the skyline’s dusted pink and orange and the glow halos her hair as she spins around, eyes closed.

He wonders if she does it on purpose.

“Are we here to watch the sunset?” she hums, giddy at the thought of him doing something so cheesy. There’s something about being alone with him like this; about pretending he’s not looking at her so she can feel his gaze just a little bit longer.

“No,” he says, walking up to the wooden fence. He takes a breath and starts to climb it.

“What’re you doing-“ Uraraka starts, but he ignores her, hauling himself up to rest his feet on the top plank, a shoulder-width apart, back towards her. “Bakug-“

“If I jumped off, I could make it back up again using my quirk, no problem,” he says, and that makes Uraraka freeze. He’s steady, arms hanging loosely at his sides, fists clenched.

He takes a moment, before angling his body around to face her. His eyes are shining.

“So,” he smirks, all teeth, while outstretching his arms. “Catch me!” And without warning, he falls back, disappearing over the edge.

“BAKUGOU!” Uraraka screams, running like hell to scramble over the fence and jump after him.

She doesn’t think, doesn’t take a second to breathe before she’s falling too, hair whipping violently across her face, her clothes billowing under her neck.

She focuses on his black t-shirt because she can’t make out his face; his arms are outstretched and his legs are slack but all she can think about is how fast they’re falling and how far away he seems. It’s hard to hear anything over the wind, over her heartbeat, but she listens for his usual holler or taunt to confirm that he’s still alive.

It doesn’t come.

Closing her eyes , she angles her whole body so she can pick up speed, spiralling towards him - faster than she should be to pull off what she’s planning - but she doesn’t goddamn care because she has to catch him, she has to, she has to, she has to-

She opens her eyes to finally, f i n a l l y grab hold of his shirt, halting so fast to swing him around that she’s sure they’ve got whiplash. They collide mid-air, a tangle of limbs, and Uraraka pulls him up from under her so they continue spinning upright.

They’re chest to chest, floating around like that - a solid mass of nerve and unspoken reprieve - until Uraraka can feel herself sliding down his front in exhaustion. He pulls her up into his arms, steady, even though he knows she won’t fall.

“That was so fucking cool,” he looks down at her triumphantly, firing off a few blasts to help slow their momentum.

She looks up in disbelief, her whole body shaking.

“You…ASSHOLE!” she yells, pushing off of him to kick hard at his shins. But he grabs her wrists before she can escape.

“I knew you’d catch me,” he says, doing his best not to smile as she struggles against him. “Listen,” he brings her tight against his chest so she’s forced to look at him. “Ura, listen. I don’t know what happened today but…you saved me in ten seconds flat - with no warning - and you jumped off a damn cliff to do it. So fuck whatever happened. You’re meant to do this.”

She stares back at him.

“That was so mean!” she snaps, punching his shoulder. His grin is wicked, but holds no bite. She takes an agonizing breath, hitting him again before a huge wave of relief washes over her, and she allows herself to rest her head in the crook of his neck. “God, you’re such an ass.”

Another laugh escapes him (he can’t help it) and he admits he doesn’t mind her tiny fingers clutching the hell out of his back; whether it’s out of relief or anger or a mix of the two, he bares it.

They float around a couple seconds longer before Bakugou taps a finger to her jaw. “You gonna release your death grip so we can get back?” he asks.

“Get off me,” she grumbles, pulling away from him, but still extending her hand.

He doesn’t need to grab it, but does so anyway.

“On three,” he says, hanging slightly below her. He fires off some explosions after the count and she drags him up with her.

It takes them less than half a minute to reach the edge of the cliff; Uraraka maneuvers them skilfully through the air, adjusting her position side to side to account for the wind. Bakugou allows himself a glance at her thighs, which tighten as they strain to shift him left or right.

They’re hovering about ten feet above the car now, the sun still emitting a faint orange glow over the city. He makes to untangle himself from her arm before she notices his heart rate, but he feels her fingers slip into his left hand, holding him back.

“Don’t ever do that again,” she warms, looking at him seriously. He hates the guilty churn in his stomach.

“You knew I’d be fine,” he grunts.

She smiles sweetly before releasing him onto the roof of the car, giggling as he growls some expletives up at her.

...

“Thank you,” she says, looking at him. They’re sitting on the hood of the car, a hand apart, watching the city lights come on as the sun finally sets. “Not for jumping off the cliff. But for what you said.”

He regards her in that way of his, something familiar but intimate, which ultimately means they have an understanding. She holds his gaze, dwelling in the sliver of a moment they’ve cut out for themselves.

“Next time though, just take me training or something! You could’ve made me float the car around up here while giving that speech, I would’ve gotten the point,” she huffs, reminding him that he’s not forgiven yet.

“You can only handle one car?”

She throws a jab at his chest, but he grabs her wrist before she can make contact. Grinning, she takes a swipe with her other hand, but he blocks that too. She wriggles the wrist he’s holding, trying to distract him so she can smack his stomach, but he reacts at the last second, meaning both of her wrists are trapped now.

She struggles against him fiercely, giggling as he strains to keep her still. He cements himself against her side to combat her strength, collecting her wrists with one hand to hold them in between their chests before he fully wraps his arms around her back. The position is awkward and she’s relentless, but he manages to keep her restrained. He realizes he needs to get himself on top of her - she’s no match for his weight and it’ll give him the advantage he’s looking for. And this whole thing’s shifted tones in a way that confuses the fuck out of him so he needs to make it fast, needs to show her exactly who she’s dealing with when-

When she licks. His fucking. Neck.

“The fuck-” he grunts, and in that moment she’s able to get a hand free.

He knows it was to distract him, to fight dirty, to drive him crazy…and it almost works too. But Bakugou’s armed with unbridled rage, which manages to trump her quick reflexes, if only by a second. He slams her back onto the hood of the car, growling as their chests collide.

“Fucking cocky,” he rasps. He’s looking down and her and she’s looking up at him and he’s furious that she’s goaded him into this (that he let himself be so stupid), but she’s warm and curvy and he can’t think straight with her mouth open like that. They’re breathing hard and the steel groans underneath them as it bends, but he doesn’t kiss her, can’t kiss her yet because he doesn’t know what the hell they’ve gotten themselves into.

He doesn’t move - and he can say with certainty that one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do is just wait for those three seconds above her - until she decides to pull him close or push him away…

Do it, he begs. Do something-

“Shut up,” she growls, linking her fingers around the back of his neck and pulling his mouth over hers. She’s too eager, too fast, too rough, but he smirks into the kiss because he knows she’s nervous too, so she can’t help overcompensating. It’s completely overwhelming, still more of a fight than a dance because this is new and exciting and terrifying but God she feels so good, and she’s never heard him gasp like that before.

He grabs her waist, moving her up the hood so he can rest fully on top of her. His arms surround her frame, and he shifts her legs apart with his knee. She can’t help the moan, arching so he can press himself fully against her. They haven’t stopped kissing; she doesn’t want to stop kissing, thrilled by how his lips feel on her skin.

She wants to ask him what he’s doing, what it all means, and what will happen now, but he’s kissing her back like he’s wanted to for centuries, so she lets the ache and hunger and need for more consume any shred of doubt.

She loves how he feels on top of her, heavy and solid and demanding - doesn’t try to stop him when he bites down on her shoulder. She grasps at his lower back, nails digging into his skin when his tongue slides over her neck.

It’s getting dangerous, the way they’re clinging to each other. How she moves her hips underneath him, and how he grips at the hemline of her shorts, both desperate to memorize every new curve and scar and every Oh God don’t stop, spot. It’s a mess of clacking teeth and breathy moans, and they know they’re going too far, know that adrenaline and sweaty hairlines are a sweet combination for disaster when five years of misplaced desire suddenly comes to a head, but they just can’t stop.

He starts rocking against her when she gasps, which is goddamn criminal, but it just spurs him on, and he loses himself in the way she starts panting yes yes yes. The steel frame clanks in time with his thrusts, and Uraraka mimics his movements to show him how much she wants this, how much she needs this.

She ignores the sharp pang in her shoulder when he moves faster - her neck has been falling over the edge of the steel frame - and closes her eyes, her mouth falling open.

“Fuck,” he growls – and how is it fair that that gets her so hot? – before leaning over to kiss her again.

“Bakugou,” she breathes in between kisses, “BakugOH-” but she doesn’t get the words out because all of a sudden they’re tumbling off the side of the hood, falling to the ground below.

“Shit,” he says from underneath her, bringing his hand to her cheek. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she groans, trying to perch herself up on his chest. “You?”

“Yeah,” he grits his teeth suddenly, almost hissing, “just...move your elbow.”

She looks down, where her joint is pressing heavily on his crotch.

“Oh!” she yelps, adjusting her position. “Oh shit, sorry!”

He looks directly up at the sky, like he’s trying to distract himself. She notices him swallow, how the tips of his ears seem to redden.

She can’t help her snort of laughter, resting her chin above his solar plexus to get a closer look. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen her look so amused.

“Shut up,” he growls, but the corners of his mouth twitch with laughter too.

She presses her face into his shirt as another outburst of giggles escapes her. He sets off a few small explosions from his palms in a pretense of bravado, but she sees right through it, arching her neck to kiss his jaw. That seems to placate him, and they settle back against the grass, heartbeats perfectly in sync as their chests rise and fall with each breath.

“We should go,” he says after a minute, in that way that lets her know there’s no changing his mind. He untangles from her and pulls himself up off the ground, holding his hand out when he stands.

“Kinda wanna stay,” she says softly, taking his hand. She leans back against the car to take a final look at the stars.

“Bad idea,” he says.

“Why?” she asks, curious.

He leans forward so there’s about an inch between them, pushing her against the window. The look he gives her is so dirty it makes her heart stop.

"Oh.”

He smirks, placing a quick peck on her lips...and turns to walk around the back of the car to the passenger side, before she can change his mind.

“Take me home, Round Face.”

...

She’s brushing her teeth when she hears her phone vibrate on her desk. She spits, too excited to rinse her mouth, and runs to her bedroom.

[Kat]

She put that as his contact name about a year ago, much to his chagrin.

[If I won the lottery, I would drive away with you. Cause someone’s gotta be there to talk your dumbass into coming back.]

She smiles so hard it hurts, knowing somehow that together, everything's going to be just fine.

...

#kacchako #my fic #bnha #uraraka ochako #katsuki bakugou #i kinda struggled with the idea of b doing this but uh. it checks out lmao. and the implication of not quite talking about it has some...#implications. but yeah #so uhhhhhhh...........car hood makeouts.......check. lmao #i feel like they're.......20? 21 in this #and don't give me shit about the car hood lol. it's a classic car so it's nice and large and flat #for....u know ldsfjksdhjf #it's her dad's car and he lets her borrow it. he inherited it and does his best to take care of it cause they can't afford another one #and i know the kiss distraction has been done by far better writers than me but it just fit!

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lejojotrash · 7 years ago

Note

Can I get uhh some members of la squadra of your choice reacting to a team mate or s/o being absolutely enamoured with autumn leaves and bare trees when they see them because where they come from all the trees are evergreen and it's very hot. Like they just get really happy and excited about it and the cooler weather being so amazing for them. Thanks if you do this also I do not mind if this is headcanons or an imagine fic just whichever you would like! You have a great week!

Some members reacting to a teammate or s/o being enamoured by autumn leaves and bare trees because all they’ve ever seen was evergreen and it’s really hot where they come from.

I wrote for three members only because I write a lot lmao. Also Illuso needs more love

Illuso:

“Are you cold?” Illuso asks the question even though he knew the answer. He could see the way the goosebumps appeared upon your arm and how you tried to cover up your bare arms to preserve the warmth you had.

Illuso didn’t know why you were cold, but then again he does wear extremely thick fabric for clothes and you did come from another country where it was blazing hot 24/7. You probably weren’t accustomed to the temperatures in Italy yet.

You now focused on Illuso after he asked the question. The two of you were on a stakeout for a mission, something about a raising gang, or something along those lines. Anyways, the two of you were hanging out in his mirror world for the meantime, waiting for the gang meeting up.

“Mmm…” You hummed. “…A bit…” You were the one who spoke the least in La Squadra because of your incredibly thick accent and the fact that you had a hard time phrasing sentences in Italian, but you could understand your peers just fine. “Never this… cold before… back in country… always hot…” You walked towards a fallen brown leaf on the ground and picked it up to examine it. The texture of the leaf was rough and stiff. The feeling was foreign on your fingertips.

“Don’t break it,” Illuso warned, staring in amusement at your bewildered expression at the leaf. “We don’t want to warn them of our presence.”

“Mmm…” You hummed and gave a nod of acknowledgement. You gently placed the leaf back down. “The leaves… they’re always green… back home… Italy is different… It’s pretty here… All the fallen leaves and things…” Illuso notes the nostalgic look in your eyes as you compared Italy to your home country.

“Do you miss it? Your country?”

“No…” You shook your head, even though you knew that Illuso knew that you were lying. “Even if I did would that make me weak and… Senti… Senti-”

“Sentimental?” Illuso supplied. You nodded. “No. It’s perfectly normal for people to miss their homes.”

“Ah…” You merely said. “I don’t… I don’t regret my choice though. Italy is great. I like it… A lot…” You smiled. It didn’t look like you were lying in Illuso’s eyes. There was silence between the two of you for a while until Illuso himself broke it

“After this mission, I’ll show you around,” He stated. You looked at him in surprise, but then smiled again.

“Thank you,” You said. “That is… Very… Very nice of you…”

“It’s not a problem,” Illuso dismisses. “But please. Tell me more about your country.”

“It would be my… Honor? No… My… Ah…”

“Pleasure?”

“Yes… It would be my pleasure…”

Ghiaccio:

“Oh my God!” You exclaimed in your native language, dragging your grumpy, blue haired boyfriend to the source of your exclaim.

“Jesus fucking Christ! How many times do I need to remind you?! You’re in Italy! So speak Italian!” Ghiaccio chided but you ignored him, holding him by the hand and guiding him forcefully to a tree, but not just any tree. That tree had orange and brown colored leaves, and they were currently falling off as the wind picks up speed.

“Look at those leaves, Ghiaccio! They’re falling and they’re brown and orange and it looks so beautiful!” You rambled about the leaves as you took out your phone to snap some pictures of the tree.

“Yeah? So what? They do that all the time when it’s fall,” Ghiaccio states blandly with a raised brow at your odd behavior, secretly basking in your energetic, adorable behavior. His face softened and calmed in affection at the sight of your happy face.

“So what?” You repeated incredulously. “The trees don’t do that back in my country! They always stay green and they never fall! And it’s always hot in my country. Imagine summer here in Italy, and replace it with all four seasons. That’s what my country is like.” Ghiaccio grimaced slightly. Summer all the time? He could only imagine the hottest day in Italy be common for you everyday back where you lived. Did you guys even have ice skating? He grunted in displeasure at the thought. Ghiaccio made a mental note to teach you how to ice skate later.

“Quick, Ghiaccio, take a selfie with me,” You commanded, turning the phone to face towards the two of you as you tried to position the phone where it could fit the two of you and the tree. Ghiaccio scrunched his face up at the word.

“What the hell? What kind of a word is ‘selfie’? Is that even a-” Ghiaccio was on the beginnings of a rant while you rolled your eyes.

“Sorry, Ghiaccio. I meant take a picture of the two of us and not ask any other people to take a picture of us, while we try to angle the camera correctly by our own means,” You corrected yourself with a huff. You knew how bad Ghiaccio could be with language, especially with idioms, slang, metaphors, etc.. He takes everything so literally. Ghiaccio nods in approval at your changed explanation.

“Better,” He stated, as you tried to angle the camera correctly. He could see you roll your eyes. Soon enough, the two of you stood in front of the tree for a good minute too long. Ghiaccio’s short patience began to become noticable as his face started to scrunch up again, and he began to tap his foot. You unfortunately didn’t get the hint that your boyfriend was getting impatient.

“Here gimme that!” Ghiaccio snatched the phone away from you, growing irritated at you positioning the camera for too long. You smiled brightly, while Ghiaccio stared with a calm expression, trying to hide his irritation and impatience at the camera with the tree in the background. He snaps the photo, and you hastily took the phone away from his hand.

“Oooohhh,” You stared in awe at the picture he took. “Thanks, Ghiaccio!” You quickly went on the tips of your feet to press a chaste kiss on your boyfriend’s cheek in gratitude. The back of his neck began to heat up as well the tip of his ears at the surprising gesture. He instinctively fixed his red glasses by pushing it up at the bridge with his middle finger. “I love it! You’re amazing! I owe you one!” Ghiaccio pressed a hand to his cheek.

“Yeah, I know I’m great,” Ghiaccio rolled his eyes, still trying to recover from the kiss. You giggled at his statement. “You’re buying dinner.”

“Okay!” Even though deep down the both of you knew that Ghiaccio was gonna be the one who ends up paying for dinner. Ghiaccio wants to see more of your excited expression about how great (and better) Italy was compared to your home country, so he ends up dragging you around town to as many places he could remember that had extremely beautiful sights during the fall.

Pesci:

“Pesci,” You call out to the insecure man, as you stared outside the base’s window. What the heck was going on?

“Yes? Do you need anything?” Pesci heads towards you so that he could also get a look at what you were seeing. He didn’t see anything special, besides from the fact that the brown and orange leaves were falling into the backyard of the base. He was probably gonna be the one to clean it up, as well as you since you two were the newer and greener members of La Squadra. You smushed your face against the window. “(First)… You’re gonna get the window dirty…” You muttered something incoherent against the glass. “What?” You pulled your face away from the window.

“Why are the leaves falling?” You ask in awe and in skepticism.

“Huh?”

“The leaves,” You began to repeat slowly. “They’re falling, but why?” Pesci doesn’t know how to answer that without sounding like a total jerk, and he doesn’t want to sound like one.

“Because…” He trails off, trying to word his answer as nicely as possible. “It’s fall?”

“But fall isn’t like this back in my country!” You exclaim loudly, suddenly. Pesci slightly flinches at your changed tone. “Is this the work of an enemy stand? There must be some wrong!”

“(F-First), please calm down…” Pesci fruitlessly tried to soothe you. Well that explains your weird behavior at the window. He couldn’t believe you’ve never seen the leaves like this during fall in your home country. “It’s normal for the trees to be like this… Here. I’ll go out and show you.” You clutched his shirt as he was attempting to leave, surprising him.

“But what if you get hurt!?” You blurt out suddenly. Pesci feels a sudden burst of confidence to reassure you that falling, orange and brown leaves weren’t deadly at all.

“I’ll… I’ll be fine,” He stated, a growing chuckle at your extremely worried and scared face, but he pushed it down. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“You promise?”

“I promise.” Pesci feels really, really confident, like Big Bro Prosciutto. It’s a great feeling honestly because he’s never felt relied on so much before, even if it was for something stupid like this. Pesci headed outside, standing in the center of all of those falling leaves, as you watched from the inside (and safety) of the base. You were beginning to flinch as a leaf was heading towards Pesci, and it was stuck on top of his haircut. “See?” You could feel a growing laughter within you, and then you suddenly bursted out laughing. “(First)?” Why were you laughing at him? Was this a trick? He could himself shrink.

“I-I feel so-” You inhaled sharply to get ahold of yourself but it didn’t work. “I can’t believe I was so scared of some falling leaves! Ha!” You continued to laugh heavily as Pesci himself began to laugh as well. Eventually you calmed down and headed outside to stand next to Pesci. A leaf suddenly appeared on your face, and clung to your face as you were robbed of your sight. “HOLY SHIT! WHAT THE FUCK! SAVE ME, PESCI! IT’S AN ENEMY STAND! THEY’RE USING THE LEAVES TO ROB OUR SENSES!” Pesci started to laugh harder as you screamed bloody murder and flailed your arms widely to get rid of the leaf that was on your face. “IT’S NOT FUNNY! HELP ME!”

Pesci tried to calm himself down and wiped the prickling tears from his eyes, and began to head towards you, but then suddenly a leaf hit him in the face robbing him of his sight as well.

“AHHHHHHHHH!” He screamed in surprised. “BIG BRO, (FIRST), HELP ME! I CAN’T SEE!”

“I CAN’T SEE EITHER! PROSCIUTTO, HELP US!”

Bonus ending!

Prosciutto stared out the window in disbelief as two assassins (HIS assassins. The ones HE’S training and mentoring. They’re also in their twenties might he add) were screaming about a leaf stuck on their faces and screaming about an enemy stand and groping around blindly for each other and screaming his name like he was the answer to their problems.

The rest of the squad were looking at the sight as well. Risotto was not amused (actually he was slightly amused but no one could really tell), Melone and Formaggio were cracking up, Ghiaccio was shaking his head at the stupidity of his team mates, Illuso… Illuso doesn’t even know how to react, and Prosciutto… Prosciutto needed a smoke.

“Do something about this,” Risotto commanded, a small huff coming from his mouth, demonstrated some of his amusement, but one could interpret it as an irritated sigh.

“Yes, capo…” Prosciutto gritted his teeth. He was sure gonna have a long lecture for the two of you.

#jjba #jjba imagine #pesci #illuso #ghiaccio #la squadra

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vyrerus · 7 years ago

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My Wreck

Gonna put a read more thing here, cause this is gonna be a personal rant/vent, and I wouldn’t recommend reading it, for the few of you who keep up with me. I just gotta write it, and put it somewhere, or I’m gonna go out of my mind.

So I guess I’ll begin by saying that I’ve been out of work for almost a year, again. I got a job last October that lasted till December when severely hurt the tendons in my left wrist, such that I lost the job that I had just gained. The impact of this injury were not apparent on the outset, but suffice it to say it still causes me active pain daily. I have full motion and use of my left hand, but lifting things and doing manual labor sparks flares. It sucks and makes me hesitant to seek jobs that require me to lift things.

That’s just the tip of the iceberg though, with the problems in my life. I’ve moved back home to my Dad’s, and I’ve been here far longer than I wanted to be(2 years at this point). I do possess enough money to move out somewhere, but the problem with that is that I’d need a guaranteed job that could pay rent for where ever I move to, and the real problem with that is that I have no strong desire to live anywhere in this world. In fact, I haven’t had any sort of desire or goal like that ever since I tried to take my own life in 2014. Sometimes I’ll get inspired to have some sort of aspiration, only for that feeling to fade and crumble. I wish I’d been stronger, and that I was still in the military every other day, cause on top of this depression(clinical diagnosis circa April 27th 2014), I have to put up with my family.

Our relationships aren’t really that bad. In fact, they’re pretty good, but one of my brothers and my mother are in the dark about my suicide attempt still. My Dad and oldest brother know, cause my oldest brother broke my confidence pretty much immediately after I told him about it. Dad has offered to have me re-evaluated and medicated, but then he turns right around and takes jabs at me for being indolent and apathetic about pretty much everything. I keep refusing those offers, cause I don’t want to fork out money for medication, and my therapy experience from 2014 makes me not want to talk to a shrink ever again. My other brother and mother do too, but I can’t tell them about this shit cause that’d make living here even worse. Mom is hyper christian, and I’d probably never see the end of her trying to drag me to church and shoving bible verses in my face every time I turn around. That’s the last thing I want. Prayer didn’t help before or during my breakdown, and sure as heck isn’t going to help all of a sudden. My other brother has a lot going on in his life right now. His archaeological career is making steady progress, he’s engaged, and he’s trying to orchestrate savings and wedding and all that. He doesn’t need pointless brother baggage.

I just don’t know what to seek in life, and I have even less of a clue about what will make me feel fulfilled or like I have a purpose. I know that’s mainly a self-motivation thing, but at the same time, I feel like a lot of successful people have these keystones in their lives that make it easy to feel motivated and get up and go. Love, an ideology, survival instinct, family, kids, material wealth. I used to be driven by lovers and relationships. I’ve got some other malfunction, cause that never goes well either, which has turned me off from seeking one. I used to be Christian, but having had a crisis of faith and found no reprieve in faith, I gave that up. No kids, and none in the foreseeable future given that I don’t have much of a say in that. Not that I’d be a good parent in my current state. And as for material wealth, well, I don’t much care about owning stuff other than video games, so I generally don’t care about buying stuff unless I have to.

I’ve tried being licentious, and as great as sex feels, I just wind up having a painful feeling in my being whenever the woman walks away from it casually, be she prostitute or online dating app hook-up. Getting drunk feels nice, but I can’t really stand drinking. Smoking’s out of the question, cause even though a nicotine rush feels fantastic, smoking is unbearable for me(childhood asthmatic). Pornography seems more and more boring. I mean, I never get tired of seeing the female form, and lewd acts to go along with it, but when I go to view it now, it’s pretty much open and closed. Drugs don’t appeal to me. Cost too much in both money and quality of life.

I know I’d like to feel love and be loved again, but as time goes on, I feel like the possibility of that slips further and further away from me. Granted, because of my aforementioned behaviors, there are things I probably won’t be willing to tell future partners(hey look, a hint of optimism), because it would probably ruin the relationship. More than that though, who’s gonna go after a depressed shut-in male with no ambition?

I have three close friends, and I love them, but I very easily feel that my adoration for them goes one way, that I care more for them than they do for me. Like I could disappear, and they might be sad for a moment, but there are greater friends in their lives already. I don’t think I’ve ever been anybody’s #1, though someone made me feel that way once. I had friends that made me feel that way too, in the past, but time and circumstance saw to ruining that as well.

I’ve never felt so unwanted. That’s a poor way to phrase it, but I can’t think straight right now. I guess this feeling bit into me when I fulfilled a lifelong dream, and traveled to Japan. I went alone, of course, and I had an amazing time. I saw a lot of places in Tokyo, and I went to the Sapporo Snow Festival in Hokkaido. Yet, this nagging feeling always tugged at the edge of my mind, “This would be so much better if I was sharing it with someone I loved.” The feeling was reinforced by poor choices, when I had mind blowing sex with a Japanese call girl, and she took an interest in me, because that’s part of her job, and you know, the longer a sex worker can tick down your time from doing the actual deed, the better they’ll feel later, cause it’s gotta be exhausting going from working all day to boning some strange foreigner at night, but I digress. She was worried that since I was going to rural Hokkaido( I went and spent a week in a traditional ryokan about 40 miles outside of Sapporo), that I might get lost or have too much trouble because of being unable to read or really speak Japanese(hey I knew enough to be polite!). So, she called the ryokan on her own volition and asked for directions and nearby train stations, and for the best routes to get to and from there. She wrote them down for me in kanji/hiragana/katakana with the english translation below them. I called on her again when I came back to Tokyo, and she was actually somewhat elated. I’m a fool, I know, but we talked for 3 hours, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and I even forked out for an extension, just to continue talking to her. At the end of the time, she couldn’t believe that she had been there talking to me for so long, and she was very mortified, or at least acted like it. I called on her again, and that time she was confused. She said she was sure that I’d lodged a complaint with the agency, and that she’d be getting in trouble soon. I doubt she would have actually gotten in much trouble, not that I really know, but I was confident that I was being suckered very hard, but the desperation of my loneliness told me that this cost was worth it. After our final time together, I openly wept, after she had left. Because I knew since it had come to this, I was a wreck. And I’m still a wreck, and I’m just not sure how I’m gonna salvage myself. My wreck.

#personal #wouldn't recommend it #I shouldn't have watched that Larryzaur video

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arrowsbane · 8 years ago

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Okay, so there is something to be said for not eating cheese before falling asleep in the mid-afternoon sun, because as fun as it sounds, it can mean for some seriously weird dreams. I am 1000% blaming @shanastoryteller for this, because right before I dozed off, I read this post here that she wrote and it hit a wall, turned 90 degrees east and ran off into the sunset of hell half-frozen over.

So. First let me tell you this, I am not writing this as a fic. Just no. It’s bad enough as it is. Also, while I’m somewhat known for genderbending, I am not really a fan of Fem!Ed. Kind like how I can’t handle Fem!Yuuri from YOI. It’s just… these precious babies are perfect just the way they are and I cannot bear to change them. But, I am down with reading Fem!Ed if there is a reason – like… gender reassignment. (See the aforementioned post). Or maybe Truth just likes to fuck with Ed. Idek.

So. On with the insanity:

So. For some reason, poor Edward Elric is a girl born in a boy’s body. Or maybe he’s just a boy who is more at home in the female shape. I don’t know okay. I’ve always been comfortable exactly as I am, and I’m not going to insult anybody by pretending that I know everything. The point is - Edward is not comfortable in his own skin. Edward knows that his body is somehow wrong. And he’s smart, and brilliant, and a goddamn whiz with Alchemy. And so is Al, who just wants Ed to be happy, no matter what.

So, crazy brilliant brightsparks that they are – with a supernova burning in place of a soul, and the universe in their eyes – they draw up a circle, and Ed goes before Truth.

Truth, of course, isn’t too happy at being faced with a tiny scowling boy who insists that he is a girl; but Truth does understand that sometimes bodies can be uncomfortable at best, and soul-destroying at the worst of times, and this insanely brilliant child is going to be the source of a shit-ton of entertainment for years to come.

So Truth helps.

For shits and giggles, because why not.

...

Trisha is… understandably puzzled. She went to bed the night before, a mother of two sons, and then woke up with a son and a daughter.

Um, what?

They are grounded. Of course they are. Origami cranes are one thing, but this? What were you thinking? You could have been rendered braindead, you could have blown up the house. Or the universe. You could have died!

It should be noted that Trisha ranks her kids’ lives above that of the universe continuing to turn, and reality not peeling apart at the seams.

As any mother rightly should.

...

Time passes, as it is wont to do, and Edward grows into a lovely young woman with a talent for mass destruction and reconstruction.

(although, it must be said that when puberty came rolling around, there were more than a few curses, and Ed had to be physically stopped from reopening the Gate in order to yell at Truth. Because Fuck you asshole!)

Officially, her name is Elizabeth on all the paperwork, but here’s the thing: Ed might be a girl now, but she never stopped being Ed. You can change your shape, but you can’t change who you are. And hell, Ed loves confusing the fuck out of people when she introduces herself as Edward.

[Teacher didn’t discourage this. If anything, she encouraged it.]

It becomes a joke – wherever she goes (and Al is with her, because in what universe would he not be? Don’t answer that. Because that probably means Al is dead in that universe and you can all go to hell before you hurt my little cinnamon roll), leaving chaos and destruction and generally uprooting tyrants for fun; leaving only the whispers of a red coat, long blonde hair and the names Edward and Alphonse Elric: Alchemist Extraordinaires’.

...

[Somewhere in the East, Roy Mustang is tearing his hair out trying to track down a pair of genius brothers. Here’s a hint: It’s not going so well.]

...

Now this? This is not love story for Roy and Ed, oh no. My weird ass dream is twisted, and somehow, I love it. Even though I don’t ship this…

So. It’s summer, and it’s bright, and Edward is now… what? Seventeen? Eighteen? Who cares? The point is, there’s a massive inter-village party going on, and alcohol is involved. She dances the night away, laughing madly the whole time and winds up going for a roll in the hay with a charming chap from two villages over who’s on leave from the military. Not her usual choice, but hey – he’s funny and he pulled out her chair for her, and calls her “ma’am”, and he made her laugh. He also turns out to be brilliant in the sack, so hey – Ed reckons she made a good choice of partner for the night.

She wakes up to a lazy grin, and work-roughened fingers gently teasing straw and dried grass out of her tangled mess of hair – because I’m not joking about the phrase ‘roll in a hay’. It’s round about then that she realizes she forgot to introduce herself, and so she holds out her hand, “Elizabeth,” She tells him. Because hey, he did good last night. He did more than good. She can play nice.

“Havoc,” He replies, shaking her hand, “Jean Havoc.”

Ed fucking laughs at him.

“What?” She asks, “You gonna tell me that you’ve got three brothers called Mischief, Chaos and Trouble?”

He laughs as well, and they’re both still laughing when they tumble over each other and go straight for round two.

...

On and off, the whole summer, these two wind up together. In bed, at dinner, just generally wandering about causing trouble. And then Havoc has to go back to work.

And dammit, Ed finds that she’s missing him. What the hell? Ed doesn’t do pining. She does quick flings, and moves the fuck on. But apparently not anymore.

Al figures it out before she does.

And then when she does, he sits her down and listens while she rants and raves, and curses Havoc out because she did not plan on falling in love. I mean, yeah, she’s got plans to be a Housewife someday, because Teacher was ah-mazing and all that – but no. She had not planned on marrying a military guy. Why would she? The military is E-vil. (And wow, Ed has no idea just how right she is there).

So Ed hmms over it for weeks and then she gets that stubborn look in her eyes, packs her bags, and scoots off down to East City because dammit, she’s getting married. Whether he likes it or not.

Al and Winry are cheering her on, and Trisha isn’t really sure what’s going on anymore.

(Yes, Trisha got ill and shit, but Ed got even more stubborn and kinda maybe might have been more interested in Alchemy and it’s healing properties in this ‘verse, and yeah, she paid a bit more attention when she met Truth. She doesn’t know it yet, but she gave something in trade to the Gate. There’s a reason she doesn’t have Daddy Issues here – she doesn’t even remember him. There’s nothing left to hate.)

...

Ed shows up in a hurricane of energy and barges her way back into Havoc’s life without so much as a by-your-leave. He’s not really complaining. Not even when she storms up to him in a bar when he’s out for a night with the boys, yanks him down by his collar, and tells him that they’re getting married.

“Um… Don’t I get a say in this?” He asks, blinking down at her. Her hair is a mess, and she’s breathing heavily from beating the tar out of a guy outside because he tried to put his hands where they weren’t welcome – but goddamn, she’s still the most beautiful thing Havoc’s ever seen, and in all honesty, his question isn’t so much a “no,” as a bemused “oh really now?”.

Ed straight up growls at him, and he laughs, scooping her up and tossing her over his shoulder.

“Oi! Breda!” He shouts down the bar, “Get your coat, I’m getting married.”

Breda chokes on his drink, and then he starts to laugh. “This I gotta see.”

...

So they get married in an office, with a half-sober Breda and some random person they grabbed off the street as witnesses.

Havoc’s collar is unbuttoned, he smells of beer and cigarette smoke. Ed is wearing jeans and a tank top, her hair is a tangled mess of gold and there’s dirt smeared on her left shoulder.

They don’t have any family members there, and Ed makes their rings out of her earrings and Havoc’s watch. But that’s okay. Trisha and Elaine can yell at their kids for eloping at a later date. And then ask about grandchildren in the next breath. Al will laugh himself sick, and Winry will demand to be Godmother when they get around to it.

Not that they plan to – I mean, practicing making the future babies is fun and all, but neither of them want kids just yet.

...

More time passes, and you know what? It works for them.

Ed is a freaking genius who sometimes gets so into her work that she forgets to eat or do the dishes, but that’s just fine because Havoc grew up on a farm where folk did whatever needed doing. So he cooks, and coaxes food into her. He washes dishes, and folds laundry, and he’s even brave enough to pull her away from her books for long enough to get her to sleep.

And then once she’s done with her bender, Ed spends days making it up to him. Because she’s a hundred percent the kind of person who gives stuff her all.

Havoc doesn’t understand one whit of what she’s doing, but hey, it makes her happy. He doesn’t need to know anything more than that.

…

The first time he accidentally catches sight of her notes over her shoulder, he thinks she’s going to kill him, because Alchemists are nothing if insanely secretive of their work.

But hey, no, not Ed. Not with her husband.

She smiles at him, and then yanks him down onto the floor next to her.

And then she starts explaining the basics to him.

…

Because here’s the truth. Ed’s been worrying over Havoc’s complete obliviousness to alchemic circles for a while now, especially seeing as he’s almost always on the team chasing the crazy (in a bad way) alchemists – and dammit, she wants him in one piece. So come hell or high water, she’s going to make sure he knows what is safe and what means he should be hightailing it out of there.

…

The next time he’s closing up a case with the team – a crazy wannabe alchemist had been messing with the structural integrity of a building, and was also apparently a complete and utter moron, because even he knows better than to use those two particular equations in conjunction together.

He says as much, and is treated to looks of utter amazement and disbelief from his teammates.

“What?” He asks, “I know stuff.”

Breda is sniggering behind his back, because unlike the others, he was there when Havoc married the crazy alchemist lady. Come to think of it… Breda might be the only one on the team who even knows that he’s married. Oops.

He really hopes that Hawkeye doesn’t shoot him for this.

…

So yeah, things go fine. Mostly.

Havoc learns when to run away from the crazies, and Ed wanders off with Al to save the world, or sometimes just turns entire cities on their heads by sticking her nose where she shouldn’t – see Youswell, Liore, ect…

And all the while, Mustang rages over the antics of the famous Elric Brothers.

…

It’s actually rather pathetic, and it takes Havoc a long time to put the pieces together.

He’s more than a little bit embarrassed to be honest.

Mustang is halfway through a rant on how Liore has descended into chaos – two raging factions; and Havoc’s eyeing the pin-board, feeling strung out and an odd sense of de ja vu.

Penny in the air?

Huh. Wasn’t Ed in Liore the week before last?

Penny drops.

Oh. Havoc thinks. Oh, shit.

He’s so used to her going by her legal name in public – because while Edward Elric writes alchemical papers and rescues kittens from trees, it’s Elizabeth Havoc who fails epically at knitting, burns scones and actually has a bank account – that he forgot (and wow, is she going to laugh herself sick tonight) that when she’s off gallivanting across the country with Al, she uses her birth name.

Son of a –

He’s been trying to track down his wife and brother-in-law the whole time.

The wife who sleeps in his bed, and the brother-in-law who camps out on their couch.

How is this even his life?

…

Ed does indeed laugh herself sick that night.

Mean.

…

He reckons that he should probably tell Mustang, if only to save Eastern Command from being set on fire the next time the Colonel loses his temper, but hey – Havoc likes living.

So he sleeps on it.

And he sleeps on it.

Eventually, Friday rolls around, and Ed is giving him that look – the kind that says ‘man up, or I’m buggering off to cause mass chaos and destruction without you,’ and so Havoc swallows his pride.

That day at work, he waits until Mustang is once again ranting on about the Elric Brothers, and then, carefully, warily, pipes up with: “So, um, Chief? I might have a lead.”

Mustang freezes, and then pivots.

Ack. He looks like he might breathe fire at any moment.

“What?”

Havoc gulps. And then he starts to fidget.

“Well, actually,” he admits, “it’s my wife that you’d be wanting to talk to, sir.”

Mustang looks at him like’s gone mental.

“You’re… married?”

“Yes?”

“She’s way too good for him,” Breda snickers, leaning back in his chair.

Mustang blinks, frowns, blinks some more, and then moves his mouth soundlessly for a few moments, clearly furious.

Then, finally, he grinds out a short command of “Call her.”

“Yes sir!” Havoc yelps, diving for the phone line and praying that Ed is at home.

She is.

And she’s more than happy to come down to Command and set the record straight.

She’ll even bring Al with her.

Havoc sort of wants to curl up into a ball and cry.

...

Ed glides into the office, all grace and charm, looking exactly as people would expect an innocent modern-day country housewife to appear. Her blonde hair is carefully braided up into a milkmaid’s style, and there’s a touch of flour dusting the hem of her peasant’s blouse.

Havoc feels like he’s in the twilight zone, because she’s even wearing makeup. Since when does his wild dustdevil of a wife wear makeup?

Al catches his eye and winks – he himself is dressed in neatly pressed clothes and sporting a pair of glasses (why? He doesn’t even need them for fucks sake?) and looks the textbook image of a wet-behind-the-ears scholar who probably couldn’t even find his way out of a paper bag.

“Mrs. Havoc,” Mustang smiles, offering her a seat, with his charm turned up to eleven.

“Hello,” Ed smiles, and there’s a devilsh look in her deceptively innocent topaz eyes, “Edward Elric, at your service.”

She sweeps into a genteel bow, and then gestures to Al.

“Alphonse Elric,” Al grins. “Nice to meet you.”

Havoc sorely wishes he’d called in sick that morning.

…

So… Okay. He’s probably going to die.

Mustang practically has a fit, and Hawkeye’s hand is on her gun, which means Havoc has to try really hard not to flinch.

Once he’s done making a series of choking noises that sound like a dying weasel, Mustang straightens his back, puts on his ‘the military wants you!’ face, and says: “Enlist.”

To her credit, Ed only blinks twice, before her mouth curls into a mischievous grin to anybody who knows her, and a dangerous snarl to the uninformed.

Al grins.

Havoc cringes.

“I,” Havoc’s wonderful Valkyrie of a wife thunders in a flawless imitation of her Teacher, “am a Housewife!”

Oh god. The look on Mustang’s face is priceless. He can’t help it.

Havoc starts to laugh.

BONUS:

Wondering why Father never managed to take over the world?

Funny story actually, Ed kinda might have just happened to be wandering by Briggs when Kimblee (the fucker) conned the Drachmans into attacking the fort, and hey, she kinda likes Amestris you know, being Amestris and not Drachma 2.0

So she drops a mountains worth of snow on them.

Funnily enough – carving a blood crest does not fucking work if all your victims die of air deprivation, or being crushed under several tons of ice and snow. Because, y’know, not enough blood being spilled and all.

Basically? The bad guys ran out of time – and it was all Ed’s fault, because no matter what they tried, she kept fucking up their plans by accident.

And then Honoheim owned their asses.

The End.

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flawlessbellamy · 8 years ago

Note

Can you write some Bellarke smut where Bellamy and Clarke get off on talking greek myths and maybe comparing their relationship??

Having a Sin Squad on tumblr obviously ended up with this prompt and this fic. So @marcuskanc this is all your fault.Thank you to the glorious beta and gem of a person @ethereal-bellarke who let me sleep and fixed all my mistakes.

Fandom: The 100Relationship: Bellarke(Bellamy x Clarke)Rating: ExplicitSummary:

Clarke has been aware of Bellamy Blake’s attractive nature since they met.

But if he has to rub his physical appeal in her face Clarke's going to appreciate it.There are the obvious things to appreciate: like his hands. There's also little kinks she discovered she likes on him. Clarke really can’t explain half the things that turn her on.

But the one thing that turns her on most is Bellamy Blake History Nerd.

Read on A03

She first notices it one day when they’re all gathered round the TV in Raven’s apartment watching The Crown on Netflix. They’re 7 episodes in and all tipsy from Jaspers drinking game so basically, it’s become a bit of a mess. Clarke has known Bellamy since Octavia introduced her brother and roommate to each other freshman year. The pair of them haven’t necessarily always gotten along, but Bellamy moved to town to start lecturing at the University and somehow over a period of time they’ve actually become friends.

Bellamy had been quieter than usual but Clarke just assumes he’s tired from his new students bothering him at all hours. That is until she sees him role his eyes for the third time within 5 minutes. She furrows her brow at him and catches his eye. He just shakes his head and rolls his eyes at the TV. Clarke continues to watch until Miller finally speaks up.

“Dude I can hear you rolling your eyes. Let it go,” he sighs taking a swig from his beer.

“They aren’t even trying to make it accurate,” Bellamy huffs. Clarke watches as his jaw line tensed in annoyance.

“Bellamy it’s a show. Enjoyable. Fun. All the things that are good for you!” Octavia laughs throwing popcorn at him.

“I’m just saying there are some things that could be better. Everyone knows the Queen Mother brought the Castle after the Kings death-”

“Literally nobody knows that,” Clarke says, sitting up in her seat.

“Okay well the use of flowers is ridiculous. This was just after the war, flowers were a luxury they didn’t just throw all over the place; and by her first wedding anniversary the Queen already had her first child. It’s like they didn’t even use Google for the basic facts…” Bellamy continues his rant and Clarke feels a warm feeling spread low in her stomach. She watches as he run’s a hand through his hair in frustration and she sucks in a breath. She’s never noticed how attractive he is when he gets so involved in something. The way his eyes get intense, the gestures he makes and the depth of his voice. It's hypnotising to watch from a distance and Clarke notices her heart rate increasing the more he talks.

She leaves soon after that, heading straight to her bed with Bellamy’s tirade playing over in her head.

Her fingers trace the path down her stomach working herself up, grazing her fingers closer and closer to her cunt. She pushes her legs up and undo her jeans, dipping under her underwear straight to the area between her thighs. She’s hot and wet which isn’t surprising she’s be craving this since Bellamy started his speech. She parts herself easily, her fingers sliding in making her whole body tingle.

Inclining her hips she eventually she slides two fingers in mewling at the pleasure she feels. She imagines a dark head between her thighs, one hand in her and the other running up to her tits. She closes her eyes and moves her hand faster; it’s easy to imagine golden skin and freckles breathing words into her skin pushing her higher and higher. She moans and pushes her chest out moving closer and closer to her edge.

Focusing on her image of Bellamy mouthing at her thigh and sucking gently the words he whisper become clearer and Clarke hears his historical criticisms from earlier echoing in her head. Her fingers work faster and she’s so fucking close. She moves her hips upwards and that’s all it takes and her orgasm floods her body and she clamps her mouth shut swallowing any sound, she rides the release, her mind going fuzzy as she gets lost in the sensation.

A few seconds pass as she re-centre’s herself.

Well fuck. History nerd Bellamy is definitely getting saved to her masturbation rotation.

The next time it happens it goes further than she's expecting.

She's been keeping her feelings for Bellamy and her love of his history rants firmly under lock.

They’re at a bar for Halloween. The whole thing’s winding down, but everyone’s still tipsy enough to be enjoying themselves. Raven has just smashed the shit of the spider shaped piñata, Murphy is making out with Emori in the darkest corner they could find, and Jasper’s performing a dance which Clarke just can’t quite stop watching. Bellamy comes weaving across the floor handing Clarke a drink.

“You look like you could use a double,” he offers.

She’s been rejecting any hints that she could have feelings for Bellamy Blake for the last two weeks. They’re not romantic in any way and that’s all there is to it.

He’s hot and she hasn’t had sex in a long time and that’s only reason that he’s been making a regular appearance when she closes her eyes and imagines something to help her get off.

“I feel like we haven’t drunk enough,” she replies, trying to forget the dream she had about him the other night. Accepting the drink, she leans back against the wall.

“Well looking after this lot requires a clear head,” Bellamy jokes indicating Jasper whose dancing is about to cause someone serious damage.

“Maybe a drink would make that dance look better?” Clarke wonders.

“Not a chance,” Bellamy laughs. They continue chatting and watch the rest of the group enjoy the last of the night until a man dressed in a Toga walks past.

Bellamy throws his head back dramatically and sighs.

“Just once I’d like to see a historically accurate Toga Candida.”

Clarke feels her stomach tug. She'd been wondering when the next time Bellamy would talk about historical accuracy would be, she's been looking forward to it and now it's here. He's wearing his glasses as well, and she's already recording this for later. It’s not that Clarke is usually this susceptible to Bellamy’s history talk, or so she tells herself, but he’d come as Superman for Halloween so he was wearing his glasses. That was unfair to society that he looked that good in glasses. They just added to Clarke’s appreciation of him and his whole attractive history nerd thing.

Okay, maybe it's a bit creepy to think about your best friend’s brother in a sexual way but in her defence, he’s really hot and it’s been a really, really long time.

“I think he was aiming for cheap,” Clarke answers trying to act casual.

“I know but there is not way enough material to even attempt to make a real Toga and even if they were the Toga Candida is for the upper classes only really.”

Clarke felt the coil in her stomach tighten.

“Slaves had to be trained in how to put them on so if you couldn’t afford a slave you wouldn’t be wearing a Toga. Obviously, there were different types not just the Toga Candida. Most of them were just for parading around in and showing off something especially the Toga Picta -”

Clarke grabs his arm hastily. Bellamy looks down at her, confused, and Clarke attempts to think through her haze to find something to say.

“I’m gonna…go,” She ventures, loosening her grip on his arm in an attempt to be more casual. Bellamy just shrugs and nods in acceptance.

“Cool, I’ll walk you home.”

Before she can object Bellamy grabbed her glass and headed toward the bar to return them and say goodbye to Octavia. Clarke grabbed her jacket and waited by the door.

She watches as Bellamy hugs his sister goodbye and took a deep breath as he came back towards her. They set off in the direction of Clarke’s apartment and she searches for anything that’ll take her mind off picturing Bellamy wearing glasses and a Toga because apparently that is something she especially likes.

“So, Octavia and Lincoln?” She asks casually, she’d wracked her brains for anything that wouldn’t lead to the topic of history. His sister’s love life seems pretty safe. “That’s going well.”

“It’s fine. I guess,” Bellamy replies slightly sullenly, “well enough that she’s getting involved in my love life.”

“Your little sister setting you up?” Clarke joked.

“More like pushing me into thing,” He answers vaguely, “how about you?”

“My love life?” Clarke snorted, “I’m thinking of taking up a career as a nun.”

“Well, being a nun isn’t so much a career as it is a life choice. In Christianity, it started with Saint Scholastica who– “

“Stop. Don’t. Please.” Clarke snaps, throwing her head back.

Bellamy stops confused but Clarke carries on walking to the steps of her apartment building. She sighs and looks over at Bellamy who is just behind her still looking confused by Clarke’s sudden outburst.

She really wished she’d had more to drink for the conversation that was about to happen.

“I’m sorry. It’s not you.”

“So, what you hate history? Am I just boring you Clarke?”

“No! It’s honestly nothing like that,” Clarke offers. Bellamy watches her, waiting for more of an explanation. “It’s that when you talk about history it’s kind of …hot?” Clarke flushed with embarrassment.

Bellamy looked shocked for a second but then his face relaxed and a smirk passed onto his face.

“So, if I started talking about history right now, it would turn you on?” He asks taking a step forward.

“Well. Yes but-” Clarke started.

“So, if we went upstairs and I told you some history facts would that be good?” Bellamy tested.

Clarke considered her options for a second.

____________________________

When Clarke found herself pressed up against her bedroom door she was certain she’d made the right decision.

“The eruption in Pompeii happened in 79AD,” Bellamy murmured as he ran his hands under Clarke’s shirt. She feels her gut tighter and she pushes Bellamy’s shirt off his shoulders. Her chest is already pounding and she feels her clit throbbing along with it. She kisses him again once she’s pulled her own T-shirt off. The kiss is hard and messy but neither of them seems to be able to slow down.

The appreciative “mmm” that comes from the back of her throat as Bellamy traces a path down her neck scraping his teeth along her skin is the only sound she can seem to make. She missed the way he carried her to the bedroom, too occupied with rubbing herself against him. He drops her on the bed and Clarke runs her hands through Bellamy’s hair while he pulls down her jeans and comes back up to meet her face to face.

“The ancient Greeks…” he kisses along the cup of her bra, “…life expectancy was 45 years.”

“Bellamy,” Clarke groaned. Bellamy just hummed in response pulling at the cup of her bra.

“You can stop saying history facts and just fuck me instead.” She feels him smile into her left breast as he pulls of her bra. He starts to move further down her body pressing kisses into her skin. She wraps her hands in his hair and pulls him back up.

She meets his eyes, they’re wide and clear. She sees the look he gives her and she wants to pause and trace the freckles that map his cheeks, run her hands along his jaw but then his fingers slip beneath her underwear and she forgets it all, focusing on the tentative strokes along her. She flips them when she feels him start to move his head down.

“Condom?” She asks hovering over him. Bellamy’s closes his eyes and groans as she moves over him. His hands wander up her legs and to her back ghosting back again.

“Drawer. Top drawer.” There’s a fumble as Clarke reaches over and Bellamy chucks off his pants. It feels too long for Clarke and she thinks Bellamy agrees when she sinks down onto him and he grits his teeth and sucks in a breath. She’s wet and ready and she slips as far as she can and pauses waiting till she’s use to the feel of him. He bucks his hips slightly and she begins to move slowly at first but quickening the pace.

He pulls up and kisses her gently as she pushes up and down creating a rhythm. It’s opposites. Their kisses slow and their pace fast. His hips start to meet her pace and she’s crying out. His mouth is all over her breasts, her neck, her mouth, and his hands are on her ass, suddenly the angle changes as she leans forward to meet him in a kiss and that’s all it takes. Clarke comes hard, crying out into his shoulder.

Clarke finds herself having sex with Bellamy on a regular basis.

It seems to be an unspoken agreement not to tell anyone.

They hangout as a group and act as though Bellamy hasn’t tied Clarke up to the headboard and made her scream so loud the neighbours banged on the door.

Their relationship has always been based in fervour. Something always burning. A pull of being tangled together neither of them can escape. At the start, it was harsh and unforgiving. They fought and they battled until eventually something switched and the ice trickled out into friendship and warmth. And now? Now there was definitely more than warmth.

“Clarke…fuck,” Bellamy breathes as Clarke scrapes her nails down his thighs.

She sucks the tip of his cock humming in response. Bellamy is larger and fuller than she’s had before but she’s fucking enjoying this. The sounds he makes are better than she could have expected. She’s settled into a rhythm, bobbing her head. She focuses on the head with her lips using her hand to grip the base and using the same rhythm to jack him off. One hand tightens on her hair and the other drops to the sheet. He makes another noise that sounds like her name and Clarke can’t help but attempt to smirk. Bellamy’s fingers contract in her hair. She licks the tip again and his hops stutter upwards. She sucks again and moves her hand and the exact same time. She feels the jerk in his hips and the jump of his come hitting the back of her throat. She moves slower easing off until she feels Bellamy fully relax.

“Did that reduce your stress levels?” Clarke asks coming level to him on the bed. Bellamy laughed and rolls over to face her.

“Yeah, it helped,” he replied running a hand up her spine and gently tugging on the ends of her hair

“I didn’t even mention specific historical events before you jumped me.”

“I didn’t jump you!” Clarke objected, swatting his hand away and tugging the sheet up to cover them both.

“Tell that to the stack of ungraded papers I’ve left abandoned on my table.” Clarke rolled her eyes and nudged her foot against his leg.

There was a brief pause where they both recovered their breathing. She had shown up with the intention of returning Game of Thrones but then she’d seen him stressed out sitting at his kitchen table messy hair grading a stack of history papers from his freshman class. All she’d done was offered to help relax him. Like a good friend with benefits would.

Having a friend with benefits relationship with Bellamy Blake wasn’t as challenging as Clarke had thought, they had hung out alone before anything happened so finding herself spending time with him just as much now wasn’t a shock. Just, nowadays it usually involved mind-blowing orgasms and nudity. It wasn’t that Clarke wasn’t enjoying it, because more orgasms in any form were a bonus, she just felt as though there was an understood line that they didn’t cross where feelings or their situation wasn’t to be discussed. Another of their unspoken rules was that spending the night was off limits. One of them would drag themselves away from the other and they’d both end up sleeping alone. Clarke’s phone buzzed from across the room and a second later Bellamy’s did the same.

Bellamy leans over Clarke and grabs his phone reading the text off the screen.

“It’s Raven she wants to know who’s going tonight,” Bellamy delivered.

Clarke considered it for a moment then asked Bellamy, “Are you going?”

“I still have a stack of papers to grade,” he replied.

“I have to work on my designs, you want to stay in and order takeout?” Clarke offered.

“Sounds good, do you want to stay here tonight?” he asked casually putting his phone down.

Clarke froze for a second. Over the last couple of weeks, the idea that she could have feelings for Bellamy were only increasing. She’d realised she enjoyed his company more than most people, when she needed someone to talk her down from the edge she went to him. When she wanted to talk something through she went to him. When she wanted comfort she always found herself at Bellamy’s door. And now here he was breaking their unspoken rule and offering for her to spend the night.

“Only if I can borrow your favourite grounders top?” She replies smiling over at him.

Bellamy shook his head and through his arm over his head, “whatever the hell you want princess,” he mumbled.

Clarke watched as the corner of his mouth twitched up.

Clarke was nervous.

She was sitting in the 4th row from the back watching some acclaimed academic introduce Bellamy Blake to an audience that would probably decide the future of his career.

She’d been helping him rehearse his presentation for the last few weeks, tweaking bits and adding in word choices for him. She knew he was prepared and yet here she was wringing her hand waiting to see him deliver his presentation.

Their relationship over the last month had, from Clarke’s point of view, exceeded the usual limits for friends with benefits. Spending 4 nights a week wrapped up in the same bed, walking along streets holding hands and shopping for food together were all activities very much in the romantic relationship area.

Honestly, she kind of wishes she’d never mentioned her history kink to him.

That’s what had started this whole thing and now she was sitting here watching him deliver his presentation half turned on and half in love with him.

It was ridiculous.

When he finally finished, she heard Octavia cheer loudly next to her and her hands automatically clapped hard as he exited off the stage blushing slightly at the applause.

He looked back over his shoulder and met Clarke’s eye smiling gently at her.

She was so fucked.

They met Bellamy at the reception after he’d finished accepting congratulations and compliments from the faculty heads and visiting lecturers.

“Bellamy!” Octavia called gesturing Bellamy over to their small group, hugging him tightly when he reached them.

“That was amazing! I’m so proud you managed to make being a history nerd work for you!” Bellamy laughed and let go of Octavia accepting Lincoln’s handshake.

“Impressive Blake. Even dealt with the one heckler,” Raven grinned at him.

“Who knew Sexuality in the Roman political system was such a controversial topic,” he joked, eyes wandering over to Clarke. She smiled gently at him and quietly moved towards him as the rest of the group decided to go check out the free bar so they could all celebrate properly.

Clarke stayed next to him waiting till everyone was out of the way before she reached out for his hand. Bellamy smiled down at her.

“You did good Blake,” she said gently reaching up and placing a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Thanks,” he blushed, “and thanks for coming.”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Clarke then added, “I’m sure plenty of people want to congratulate you.”

Bellamy nodded and moved his eyes across Clarke’s face.He seemed to be looking for something. Clarke let her face relax and continued to meet his eye. Bellamy dipped his brow before taking a breath and faking offhandedness.

“Probably, but I’m hoping to pick up a very particular lady with a history kink.” Clarke laughed loudly and beamed up at Bellamy. He smiled at her but surveyed her carefully waiting for a response.

“Really? because I came here hoping to pick up a History Professor who’d talk nerdy to me,” Clarke sparred back.

Bellamy grinned back at her squeezing her hand gently. Clarke pulled her shoulders back slightly and took a steadying breath.

“I’m also looking for someone who’s willing to go public. How about you?” Bellamy nodded and looked down at Clarke. He met her eyes and waited for a second. She could feel his hand still in hers, his thumb running across the back of her hand. He reached out and placed his hand on Clarke’s hip. Clarke moved in and placed her hand on the back of Bellamy's neck gripping gently. He wet his lips in response moved in closer.

“I could deal with that,” he answered before closing the distance and pressing a lingering kiss on her lips.

#bellarke #bellarke fanfiction #the 100 fanfiction #bellarke smut #creations #b fic #marcuskanc#ethereal-bellarke#IM SO NERVOUS THOUGH #I ALREADY KNOW ITS BAD #Anonymous

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