#well except for the navy tie that was easy

[springlock-suits]

I am posting these for personal reference so I don't have to keep looking through my screenshots lol

First trailer, speaking to Mike on the phone. Wearing a tan dress shirt with stripes. Bold stripes are either blue or black or red or green?, color of lighter stripes cannot be discerned. Shirt appears to have a left brest pocket, but hard to tell. Navy blue tie with white dots in a diamond pattern. White undershirt. Clothes overall loose and casual/comfy

Second trailer, physically speaking to (presumably) Mike, takes place before first trailer appearance. Beige dress shirt with left breast pocket. Simple plaid pattern. Maroon tie with thin black diagonal stripes

Edit:

His phone is a boxy shape, and stands out with a taller/more elevated base than I usually find so far. Due to the width, we can assume the phone he's using is one that came with many speed dial options. Understandable as he works a business here

#i want to cosplay him soo bad and i cant find ANY accurate clothes for the life of me #well except for the navy tie that was easy #fnaf reference #steve raglan #fnaf movie trailer #fnaf movie #i wonder if the phone has caller id lol #trying to find what it is but no exact matches yet #and not rly worth mentioning. he is wearing gold colored aviator glasses

[therealnightcity]

Day, informal and armor for both hiro and avi!

Character asks for @chevvy-yates 🥰❤️

Day: What does your OC wear on a normal day? Why do they default to those clothes? Do they wear similar things, or do they change it up?

Hiro: Hiro's outfits vary. He has an incredibly extensive wardrobe, and a lot of it doesn't get worn as often as it should. Comfort is something he thinks about but it's often trumped by what looks good over how practical something is, and good luck getting him to dress for the weather. If he has a cute look that would be ruined by a jacket he'll freeze just to prove a point, and then end up pilfering someone's jacket later. He likes to shop in his spare time, and doesn't have a specific style he's set on--there ends up being a lot of black in his wardrobe, not because he dislikes color but because it's easy to pair with stuff. On a normal day he usually dresses in layers, a hoodie or a jacket over a tanktop, depending on the mood, and a pair of jeans or leathers, and sneakers/boots. He doesn't wear a lot of jewlery, and sticks to necklaces and his piercings.

Hiro's personal style is influenced by street fashion and clubwear, and this is still present in his everyday looks, even if they're more subdued than something he'd wear out for the night. There's a sense of easiness to them, he might take a while to get ready but seldom appears fussy, a lot of effort goes into looking like he's just tossed something on. Whatever it is, he always wears it with confidence. ---

Avi: Avi seldom dresses down. He favors crisp, expensive fabrics and has an well-trained eye for luxury. Although a good deal of his wardrobe is black, practical particularly in regards to his work clothing, there is some color as well. He prefers darker jewel tones, a hint of deep purple, or navy, evergreen and wine-red. He's not loud and in your face with his statements but classical and elegant, and sometimes understated. His working clothing consists of tactical gear, or suits, depending on the day and what's required of him.

How he presents himself is another thing he can control, and a standard he sets for himself. He might not be the flashiest, most eye-catching person in the room, but he prefers to let himself do the talking, and not what he's wearing. His clothing looks less worn-in than Hiro's, even if it's a favorite piece of his--he tends to treat it more as something disposable, with the occasional exception. He's a frequent customer at Jinguji, and is quite particular but he tips well, and is polite, even if not incredibly warm.

Informal: What's your OC's lazy-day look? How do they like to dress when they're winding down?

Hiro: Hiro's lazy day looks are all about comfort but not looking completely messy--he likes being able to run to the store, or go on errands if necessary, and not worry about one of his fixers catching him in pajamas. He leans towards comfortable hoodies or sweaters, usually slightly oversized or hanging off his shoulders, and a pair of shorts, or one of his many t shirts, and joggers, with a funky pair of sneakers. Sometimes a lazy day look might be a long, drapey cardigan and skinny jeans, it all depends on if he's going out of the house or not. If he's just going to be hanging around the house, he doesn't bother with his usual bun and just wears his hair long and loose, or back in a messy ponytail. ---

Avi: Dressing down isn't something Avi knows how to do. A 'lazy day' for him means less uptight but no less pressed. He might forgo the suit for a white collared shirt, and slacks, or a tasteful sweater. If it's hot and he's feeling daring he'll wear the sleeves rolled up. The most notable change is in the fabrics, he leans towards softer knits, and dresses more creatively, as opposed to his usual uniform. His hair will be a little more rumpled, and he'll skip the tie, even if it's still a designer sweater and wool trousers. If he's wearing a collared shirt, he'll have a couple buttons undone, not as many as Hiro would (who would rather die than wear a tie), but enough to show off a little skin.

Armor: What kind of armor does your OC wear? Is it well kept? Bonus: where does it come from? Is there a story behind it?

Hiro: Even on gigs where it would make sense to wear armor Hiro prefers to go without. It slows him down, and most of his cybernetics are internal anyway. With subdermal plating, reinforced tendons and titanium bones he's already fairly armored, and able to throw himself into the fray the way he likes. With his gorilla arms and berserk cyberdeck running in swinging is a fairly sound tactic, and has worked for him thus far. (His body in-game is a solid 20, along with reflexes, and he has the perks that heal him to 100% outside combat, so a couple bullets are nothing) ---

Avi: Although he has extensive, top of the line cyberware, Avi is less disdainful for tactical gear, and frequently employs it when he's working. The additional weight doesn't slow him down, and is almost comforting, after working for Arasaka and growing accustomed to the sensation of it. He is also self-aware enough to realize he cuts an impressive figure in it, and relishes this. His focus is equal points reflexes and stealth, and it's important that any armor is noiseless, and doesn't hinder movement. His preferences lean towards lighter and sleeker, both from a practical standpoint and an aesthetic one.

#character asks #cyberpunk 2077 #oc: hiro oda #oc: avi kaiba #cyberpunk ocs #thanks for asking--had fun with these! <3 #character headcanons

[menshort]

Elevate Your Style with the Perfect Fabric Blazer for Men

Introduction

In the world of men's fashion, a well-crafted fabric blazer for men can be the cornerstone of a versatile wardrobe. This essential piece seamlessly bridges the gap between casual and formal wear, making it a must-have for every stylish man. In this article, we'll explore the significance of choosing the right fabric for your blazer, its impact on your overall style, and tips on how to incorporate it into various occasions.

The Role of Fabric in Men's Blazers

The choice of fabric in a blazer can drastically influence its comfort, appearance, and functionality. Different fabrics offer unique characteristics that cater to specific occasions and seasons. Here are some popular fabric options for men's blazers:

1. **Wool:** Wool blazers are timeless classics known for their versatility. They are suitable for various seasons and can be dressed up or down effortlessly. Lightweight wool is ideal for spring and summer, while heavier wool is perfect for fall and winter.

2. **Linen:** Linen blazers exude a relaxed, summer vibe. They are lightweight and breathable, making them excellent choices for warm weather. Linen's natural wrinkles add character to your ensemble, making it a stylish casual option.

3. **Cotton:** Cotton blazers are comfortable and casual. They are perfect for achieving a relaxed, yet polished look. Cotton blazers work well in spring and summer and are often favored for their softness.

4. **Tweed:** Tweed blazers are typically made from heavyweight wool and are known for their durability and warmth. They are excellent choices for autumn and winter, offering a rugged and timeless appeal.

5. **Silk:** Silk blazers add a touch of luxury to your wardrobe. They are reserved for special occasions and can create a sophisticated, elegant look. Silk blazers are best suited for formal events.

Choosing the Right Fabric for the Occasion

To make the most of your fabric blazer for men, consider the occasion and season:

1. **Formal Events:** For weddings, galas, or other formal gatherings, opt for a wool or silk blazer. Wool works well year-round, while silk adds an extra layer of elegance for special occasions.

2. **Business Attire:** Wool blazers are the go-to choice for the office. They convey professionalism and can be paired with dress trousers or chinos.

3. **Casual Outings:** Linen and cotton blazers are perfect for casual occasions like brunch, a weekend getaway, or a day out with friends. Pair them with jeans or chinos for a relaxed yet stylish look.

4. **Seasonal Considerations:** Pay attention to the weight of the fabric. Lightweight wool, linen, and cotton are suitable for spring and summer, while heavier wools and tweeds are excellent for autumn and winter.

Tips for Styling Your Fabric Blazer

To ensure your fabric blazer enhances your style, keep these styling tips in mind:

1. **Fit Matters:** Ensure your blazer fits you perfectly. Tailoring may be necessary to achieve the ideal fit.

2. **Color Coordination:** Coordinate your blazer's color with your outfit. Neutral colors like navy, gray, and brown are versatile and easy to match.

3. **Layer Thoughtfully:** Layer your blazer with different clothing items to adapt to the occasion and season. A t-shirt, dress shirt, or sweater can create distinct looks.

4. **Accessorize:** Elevate your style with accessories like a pocket square, tie, or lapel pin that complement the blazer's fabric and color.

Conclusion

A fabric blazer for men is a wardrobe essential that can transform your style from ordinary to exceptional. The choice of fabric plays a pivotal role in determining the blazer's comfort and versatility. By selecting the right fabric for the occasion and season and following some key styling tips, you'll unlock the full potential of your blazer, making it a timeless addition to your wardrobe. Whether you're dressing up for a formal event or adding a touch of elegance to a casual outing, a well-chosen fabric blazer will be your trusted companion.

#fabric #blazer

[dresssammy]

Women's Bottoms: The Latest Trends for Summer 2023

2023 is set to be an exciting year for women's fashion, and the trend for women's bottoms is no exception. Women's bottoms come in a variety of styles, from shorts to skirts to trousers to jumpsuits.

Shorts are the perfect option for warm summer days. This year, they come in bold colors like pink, yellow, and blue. The styles range from high-waisted to low-rise, and they come in both solid colors and prints.

Skirts are also very popular this summer. They come in a variety of lengths, from mini to maxi. The colors range from bright pastels to bold neons, and the prints range from florals to geometric.

The Solid Color Belted Maxi Skirt Mock Button Casual Long Skirt is a stylish and comfortable skirt that features a waist belt, full-length silhouette and button down mock-front design. Made from a soft and lightweight material, this classic skirt pairs equally well with blouses and tanks alike. The solid color makes it versatile and easy to coordinate with your favorite tops.

Trousers are a classic wardrobe staple. They come in a variety of colors and prints, from classic black and white to bright colors. They can be tailored for a more formal look, or kept casual with a looser fit.

These tie dye print wide leg pants feature a foldover elastic waistband that allows you to customize the fit and cinch your waist. The long, relaxed fit of these pants make them comfortable and perfect for a casual look. The bright colors and unique pattern add a modern touch to your wardrobe.

These high slit flare pants feature an all-over celestial sun and moon print and a cinched elastic waistband that allows you to customize the fit. The long length and flared silhouette make them comfortable and perfect for a night out.

Jumpsuits are another popular choice this summer. They come in a variety of colors and prints, from classic navy and white to bright colors. The styles range from cropped to full length, and the fit can be tailored for a more sophisticated look.

So if you are looking for something to wear this summer, then women's bottoms are a great option. With a variety of colors, styles, and prints to choose from, you are sure to find something that suits your style.

#dresslily #dresslily pants #wide leg pants

[dfwpiner]

Ilift the smoking ban in michigan

$47.30 per pay period goes to health insurance (a PPO).$3.01 per pay period goes to voluntary term life insurance.$1 per pay period goes to basic term life insurance.10% of my salary goes to retirement annuity.If the great things in life are easy to understand, simple to describe, its petty incidents require endless details. So often the insight arrives through shame. Strange indeed to see oneself through another’s eyes. He had no choice but to exhale right as he shook the president’s hand. How he himself decided to quit smoking the day the university president, his boss at the time, walked into his office the very same moment he took a huge drag from his cigarette. He lifts and runs it through his fingers so that it lies satisfactorily over his belly. Each time he leans back in his chair, he smoothes the tie out. Today he wears a navy tie with red polka dots. 2004: 37 million Americans lived in poverty.2003: 13.5 million households were “uncertain of having, or unable to acquire” enough food.2002: 15.2% of the US population had no health insurance coverage.Here the patient broke off, got up from the sofa, and begged me to spare him the recital of the details. They look simple, orderly-1 2 3 4 5-innocent even, morally neutral. Numbers compress they render the large small, perhaps (if we’re lucky) manageable. We’ve invented numbers-symbols to quantify, to equate, to resolve a complicated world into patterns. I’m taking pleasure in the thought of numbers growing, money birthing more money, parthenogenesis, the magic of mathematics where rules wind up in paradoxes and eventually in universes where 2 + 2 = 5. I searched for the freshness of a reading in relationship to the detail. . . . T is of a detail that I asked for the revelatory ecstasy. . . . Now, with a salaried job, I stand in the heartland, and the soil under my nails smells strangely familiar. These last fifteen years, I have stood on the outskirts of the middle class American dream, not making enough money to pay taxes, keeping my hands clean. well, when you were little, we took out life insurance policies on all you kids, and we’ve decided it’s time for you to take over the payments or decide what you want to do with it. I never expected these choices when, three weeks earlier, I’d come home to find the red light flashing on my answering machine. I do not know the answer to his question. Risk, he implies, is not something simply to insure myself against it is also an opportunity for growth. He has asked me to consider adding a whole life insurance policy to the term policies I have through the university where I teach. How much do you want to live off of when you retire? He has asked me to think about it. Insurance is not the same thing as assurance. Except, he adds, in the case of a complete economic catastrophe. If you can weather the storm, time has shown investments will grow. He assures me that power lies in the future. The green and blue lines are lightening, striking from east to west. There are other busts and booms, but none so dramatic. 1929 marked a bad turn, a precipice, the sheer face of a concrete skyscraper from which men threw themselves out of windows. The green and blue lines climb from left to right, not smoothly. It begins with the birth of the stock market and runs up to the present. The y-axis measures growth and loss the x-axis, time. I forgive him, confessing that in the middle of class I often forget a student’s name it slips from my mind and rests on the tip of my tongue, a word in limbo or perhaps purgatory, waiting for consciousness to redeem it.Ī framed chart hangs on the wall behind where he seats me. Must have written you down in my appointment book wrong. I once knew a Lori Schuette back in college. His hand is warm and dry it makes a papery sound as he withdraws it from mine, admitting embarrassment. Second meeting: he grasps my hand and pumps. He detail which interests me is not, or at least is not strictly, intentional, and probably must not be so. . . . A freshly polished desk shall remain freshly polished. The material world matters here particularly. I understand, however, I have entered an office where objects demand respect. I lift my mug of tea and place it on the coaster. He pushes the coaster, a circle of corkboard within a circle of clear plastic, across his desk. By close-ups of the things around us, by focusing on hidden details of familiar objects, by exploring commonplace milieus under the ingenious guidance of the camera…film, on the one hand, extends our comprehension of the necessities which rule our lives on the other hand, it manages to assure us of an immense and unexpected field of action.

#Ilift the smoking ban in michigan

[littlemessyjessi]

-

Chapter Eight: "Kaleidoscope of Chaos": A Yandere Kim Taehyung Story

🖤💜🖤

Plus size female, yandere.

🖤 💙🖤

Warning: does contain yandere themes and therefore some sensitive content. Also of you are under 18 please leave as this will contain some mature themes. Obviously, I dont BTS nor do I think Taehyung would exhibit this type of behavior. It's purely a work of fiction. I hope you enjoy and come along for the journey.

🖤💚🖤

Also, this will contain a mixture of written text as well as edits, fake social media and fake texts. I personally enjoy them and I think they add another layer to my content so I like to include them.

🖤💜🖤

This story and all kpop content can be found by accessing the Navi link in my bio. It will be on masterlist 2.0. From there you just access the BTS Masterpost and it's fairly self explanatory from there.

💙

-

Jess watched as Poseidon roamed around in her backyard.

The white duck making noises and attempting to snatch bugs out of the dirt.

Of course, he had been fine without her for a day or so.

She'd asked her neighbor to watch after him with a simple text and the poor college boy was so in lust with her that all she had to do was batt her eyelashes at him and he came running.

She wasn't in the slightest bit interested in him.

However, she wasn't stupid.

She knew he was easily manipulated and sometimes it amused her to get him to do her bidding.

A run to the grocery store here.

Taking care of her duck there.

Small, meaningless things really.

She supposed it was wrong of her.

Though, she had never been able to find it in herself to care.

Her attention was far too focused else where to ever worry about little Jungho and his fleeting lust fueld feelings.

Especially not when she'd already over heard him claiming to his little friends that she had already put out for him numerous times.

Viscious lies, of course.

She didn't put out that easily or at all really unless it happened to be a one, Kim Taehyung.

Then she was 'insatiable' as he had so eloquently put.

The memory made a smile tug at her lips even if it was soured moments later by the events that followed.

She was obsessed with Taehyung and she knew it.

She would do anything to have him and to keep him.

Except for being something she wasn't.

And there was a twisted little inkling curling in her gut that his sometimes traditional values would eventually flare up and want her to be June Cleaver.

And she was most certainly not… nor would she even entertain such an idea.

She wanted Taehyung.

She did.

But if being with him meant being someone she wasn't… well then she'd just have to take another route.

She wasn't above manipulating him.

She could do it easily.

Hack into his bank account, steal his identity.

It would be so easily.

Even with him knowing that she could do it, it wouldn't take her long.

She doubted she would even have to do that.

She could simply threaten to do the same to one of his precious members.

That seemed to be a touchy subject though she supposed it would be.

He had spent years with these men.

To kidnap him, tie him up, lock him away… all of that was just way too dramatic.

Way too much work and honestly… it seemed rather boring to her.

And pointless to be honest.

She could find him easily of her own doing but he seemed set on the idea that she would never have to do that again.

There was a honesty to his words that unsettled her a bit.

Mostly because she thought that she was the deranged one in this situation.

She had expected at least a little resistance and the fact that he went so easily was a bit bothersome to her.

Perhaps, it was the fact that she felt like she didn't have quite the power that she thought she did.

She had been so sure.

Played it out in her head so many times and no scenario had ever come to fruition like it did.

It had been easy, blissfully so, even.

And that, in and of itself, was a problem.

It was too easy and so her guard was still up a little.

She knew she could weasel out of it easy enough if he tried to turn her in.

She could hack his entire life and have him by the metaphorical balls faster than he could blink.

And she had contacts.

Plenty of them, willing to do any number of unspeakable acts.

She spoke numerous languages, could hack anything and could charm the pants off anyone.

She didn't necessarily make friends easily but she did have acquaintances and she had dirt on them.

And the backup blackmail that would go viral even if she were dead.

The kind of dirt that would make someone willing to commit murder just to keep you quiet.

It was both of her insurance and her ammunition.

So keeping Taehyung in line should've have been a problem.

It shouldn't have caused her the sense of dread pooling in her stomach.

But it did.

She glanced at her phone sitting on the table, lighting up for the fifth time in an hour with another text.

Taehyung: Baby, please come back. I really miss you. I know you just left a few hours ago but I feel like you left on bad terms. I don't want bad blood between us. At least, come back tonight. I just want to hold you. Call me when you can. Please.

She lifted an eyebrow at the screen.

Lovesick for sure.

Almost, desperate which would be dangerous if it were not for the fact that she had no sense of self preservation.

She decided to test the waters just a bit and see his reaction.

Her fingers flew across the screen as she texted.

Jess: Are you in the studio today? Maybe I could come see you for a bit. I have an early schedule tomorrow so I can't come over but maybe I swing by with some dinner and a good night kiss?

She knew she was playing dirty but she was curious.

Tae: I am in the studio but I don't know if it's a good idea that you come by. Of course, I want to see you and I definitely want a good night kiss but I don't know if the others should meet you.

She narrowed her eyes at the screen.

Jess: I've already met Hobi. I don't see what the big deal is. But it's fine. I'll see you in a few days then.

Tae: No, come see me, baby. I want to see you and I can't wait a few days. Please, sweetheart. If you won't stay the night again, just come see me. I'll take us out for dinner after. Just the two of us.

Jess: I can bring food. Actually, I can pick up food for everyone. It'll be a good opportunity to meet the others. I have to at some point, right? I mean, we're it, right? They're a big part of your life and you and I are going to be together for a long time. Might as well. I can't think of a reason not to, can you?

She had him and she knew it.

She had backed him into a corner and she knew that if he denied it now, then he would look like a total asshole.

Tae: Ok, baby. Come whenever you like. Not everyone is here today but you can meet Namjoon, Jimin, Yoongi and Jungkook. They're here writing today. Tell me when you get here and I'll come walk you in.

She smirked at her small victory.

Jess: Ok, love. Do you have a preference? I'll pick up something you like if you tell me what you want.

Tae: I trust you. Just nothing too spicy for me. Jimin and Joon don't eat seafood but Jungkook and Yoongi will eat pretty much anything. Whatever you want, baby.

Jess: Pizza it is. Sound good?

Tae: Sounds great, baby. See you soon?

Jess: I'll be there around seven or so. That ok?

Tae: I'll be not so patiently waiting. And I'm gonna need some kisses. Like on sight.

She laughed at her phone.

Jess: Pizza with a side of kisses. Got it.

Tae: Just for my order though, right? No side of kisses for anyone else.

Jess: Of course, my love. Only a side of kisses for you. I saved those kisses for a very long time just for you. You don't think I'd give them away would you?

Tae: Good. I need them for the rest of my life. Breakfast, lunch and dinner. Snacks and elevensies.

Jess: Taehyung, you just referenced The Lord of the Rings. I will marry you right now.

Tae: SOLD! SOLD RIGHT NOW! TELL ME THE RING SIZE!

Jess: Lol, see you soon, babe.

Jess tossed her phone down on the bed.

She had a feeling that this was about to be a rather interesting evening… but she couldn't wait to see it play out.

—-

Hey loves! Thanks for checking out my work! For all kpop content check Masterlist 2.0 in my navi! Link in bio! Love, K 💋

@thickemadame ​ @blackirisposts @therealmrshale   @thegreatirene @angelus320   @disneymarina @sullybot   @alisoncdariel @amethyst09   @kalliravenne   @gruffle1 @leah-halliwell92    @queenlexusloverofbts @owenniasstars   @adventuresofnight   @halobaby @tacobacoyeet @glassesandthunderthighs   @poopypantsmcgee666-blog @teenagesublimefan @lyn-g @milkshakelol @sunnysidesblog @speedyhandsbonkpalace @mwitsmejk @pinkcherrybombs @abc-abc1234-a

🖤💚🖤💙🖤💜🖤

#fic: kaleidoscope of chaos #kim taehyung #yandere kim taehyung #plus size #ps #bts #kpop #yandere bts #yandere kpop

[riversofmars]

OMG Vastra and Jenny's wedding! Please write that! Maybe they 'never' got around to it because multiple Doctors and multiple Rivers showed up and therefore don't remember. Haha. Pretty please?

OMG I love this! Yes, of course I will! It's utter chaos, I hope you like it. I was having a good laugh while writing :D

Rating: G

Word Count: 2200

Read on AO3 or blow

The Big Day

“Strax!“ Madame Vastra’s voice carried through the corridors of 13 Paternoster Row.

“Yes, Ma’am?“ Strax stuck his head into Vastra’s study, and the lady of the house looked around.

“There you are. I need you to get Jenny as well,“ she instructed.

“Now, Ma’am?“ Strax frowned.

“Yes, Strax right now,“ she retorted with a sigh.

“You do realise what day it is?“ The butler prompted. It had taken him a while to find her as the study was not where she was supposed to be.

“Yes, Strax I am fully aware what day it is. But the fate of London, planet Earth and, frankly, Time itself makes no exceptions, not even for one’s wedding day,“ Vastra groaned in annoyance. She had been in her bed chambers getting ready for the big day when her advanced hearing had picked up on a series of alarms sounding from the study. She had considered ignoring them, this was meant to be the happiest day of her life after all, but her sense of duty had gotten the better of her.

“Very good, Ma’am…“ Strax nodded. “But perhaps we might try to… solve the problem by ourselves? I’m afraid Miss Jenny might be awfully disappointed if she were to see you before the ceremony,“ the commander pointed out. While he couldn’t pretend to understand the meaning behind all these seemingly random Earth traditions, he appreciated that they bore some significance to Jenny.

“Strax…“ Vastra sighed, she didn’t need him making her feel any more guilty than she already did. All she wanted was for this to be the perfect day for Jenny and already things were going wrong.

“Earlier she threw a shoe at me when I requested her help in serving tea,“ Strax explained.

“Do you think maybe that has something to do with the fact that you asked her to work on her wedding day?“ Vastra couldn’t help a smirk of amusement, she would have enjoyed seeing Strax trying to duck a shoe flying his way.

“I hadn’t considered it, Ma’am,“ the Sontaran mused. “I shall file that under human mating rituals: no work on the wedding day.“

“Right, okay, I suppose I should apply the same principle to fighting alien incursions. Let’s see if we can deal with this discreetly, without Jenny…“ Vastra decided, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Perhaps I might be of some assistance!“ Strax and Vastra whirled around to see Professor River Song flash a stunning smile at them. She shook out her hair that fizzed with the energy of vortex manipulator travel.

“Professor Song!“ Vastra took a moment to recover from the shock. She stared in surprise at the archaeologist who smoothed down a beautiful navy gown. Guests weren’t meant to arrive for another few hours. Vastra herself hadn’t even changed yet.

“Sorry, I am a bit early but I was in need of a quick getaway and set the coordinates in a hurry… but sounds like I might have been just in time?“ River grinned.

“Well, uh…“ the lady of the house struggled for words.

“So what seems to be the problem, I’m happy to help,“ the professor carried on pleasantly as she looked around the study. “I’m sure there are things you’d rather be doing right now.“

“How about some tea?“ Strax interjected.

“Champagne if you don’t mind. Or is it a bit early for that too?“ River retorted.“What time is it anyway?“

“You see, that seems to be the problem,“ Vastra said, pointing to a clock on the mantelpiece. It had stopped.

“I thought something didn’t feel quite right,“ River checked the time on her vortex manipulator as well.

“It’s not just the one clock, I have checked them all, they’ve just stopped,“ the Silurian carried on.

“Well then, there is nothing for it, we must locate the source of the time distortion so we can get on with this lovely day. You’re only meant to get married once. Getting caught in an alternate reality or a time loop or something to that effect would be awfully inconvenient,“ River clapped her hands together with enthusiasm. As someone with first-hand experience of weddings outside the fabric of time, she felt best equipped to deal with things.

“And how would you suggest we start?“ Vastra asked.

“Well, there really only is one question we need to ask ourselves… where is my plus one? I am fairly certain one of them is responsible for this,“ River put her hands on her hips. “He’s not arrived yet, has he?“

“Which one of them did you bring?“ Vastra questioned, and the professor ran her hand through her hair.

“Ah well, I thought I would see whichever one of them turns up…“

“Oh…“ Realisation dawned on Vastra what sort of temporal disturbance they might be dealing with.

“Was I supposed to bring one in particular?“ River asked, and the Silurian shook her head.

“Well, no. No, it’s just…“

“Ah…“ River came to the same conclusion as the detective. “Yes, I see what you mean…“

“It would make sense…“ Vastra crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Could you please stop communicating telepathically?“ Strax intervened, and the two women looked around to him.

“More than one Doctor in the same place and time,“ Vastra explained while River produced a scanner from the small clutch bag she was holding.

“Dimensional engineering isn’t just useful for TARDISes, you know,“ she smirked in response to their confused expressions and started running a scan. “The disturbance isn’t far from here, in fact… just…“ She pointed to the ground beneath their feet. “Below us.“

“The Siluritum,“ Vastra sighed. Of course. The cavern below 13 Paternoster Row was where they would be having the ceremony and reception.

“Come on!“ River grinned, heading towards the door. “Or would you rather stay and continue getting ready…?“ She turned back to Vastra, looking her up and down.

“I would rather make sure my wedding does not equate to the end of the universe,“ the detective retorted as she followed.

“What should I do, Ma’am?“ Strax piped up.

“Reassure Jenny that everything is absolutely fine and that everything is going off without a hitch,“ Vastra decided it was best to keep her bride in the dark for as long as possible. Surely, the situation would be easy enough to rectify and with any luck, she would never need to know. “Do NOT let her venture downstairs.“

“But what if she…“ Strax carried on, and Vastra interrupted him:

“Use your initiative Strax: lie.“

“This way…“ Vastra indicated, and River followed. As they descended the stairs to what any ordinary visitor would have presumed the basement, the air was not only getting hot and moist as Silurians preferred it, it also seemed to be fizzing with energy. Reality was slightly out of whack, and the first TARDIS came into view at the bottom of the stairs.

“Now this is going to be fun,“ River commented as they stepped into the impressive cave - decorated for the occasion with the most luscious flowers - and they spotted another dozen TARDISes. There was room enough but evidently not time and reality enough to accommodate them or their numerous owners.

“Alright, can everyone just calm down so we can work this out?!“ One of the Doctors shouted in a thick Scottish accent. “As the oldest one here, I can assure you, none of you are meant to be here, I’d remember!“

“If our time streams are crossed, you wouldn’t remember, actually!“ Another Doctor shot back, who River liked to refer to as Pretty Boy.

“I think this is all some big misunderstanding,“ yet another Doctor - donning particularly well-grown celery for the occasion - pointed out.

“You’re gonna have to help me here…“ Vastra mumbled to River as they hovered in the doorway.

“Who are all these people?“ A young girl enquired of the Doctor next to her.

“Susan Foreman, Doctor’s granddaughter…“ River whispered to Vastra who looked back at her bemused.

“Does that make you a step-grandmother?“

“Shut up…“ River elbowed the Silurian who smirked but then she pointed out all the companions' names to her as they watched them bicker.

“Doctor, you didn’t mention you used to be so handsome…“ Amy Pond was currently in the process of eyeing up several of the Doctor’s previous incarnations while their Doctor just groaned in annoyance, and Rory Williams tried his best to keep her from making acquaintances.

“Handsome? Really?“ Donna Noble shot back, obviously disgusted at the very thought while Pretty Boy smugly straightened his tie.

“So they’re all you?“ Sarah Jane Smith asked, bewildered.

“It would appear so…“ her Doctor retorted, tangling his long scarf around him, while soothing down a suit. To their credit, everyone had dressed up for the occasion.

“Doctor, what are we doing here?“ Liv Chenka threw her hands up in the air, fed up with the bickering.

“We’ve been invited to a wedding,“ her Doctor replied with a wide grin.

“Who’s wedding?“ Ace McShane interjected.

“I don’t know but I love a good wedding, don’t you?“ her Doctor grinned, straightening his hat.

“You don’t even know Vastra and Jenny yet!“ The Doctor that River liked to nickname “Eyebrows“ shot back.

“Is that who’s getting married? Lovely, best put that on the card…“ Pretty Boy instructed Donna who rolled her eyes at him.

“Do you think perhaps it’s time to…“ Vastra looked at River.

“What?“ The professor had been engrossed in watching the spectacle in front of them but the detective certainly had a point. “Oh yeah, yes, let's!“

“Excuse me, everyone!“ Vastra called out and everyone looked around. Before the Silurian could carry on, however, there was an energy discharge, knocking everyone off their feet. Suddenly, another TARDIS appeared in their midst.

“Sorry, sorry! Are we late?“ Another Doctor, northern with blond bobbed hair, stuck her head out.

“Now, this is getting more interesting by the minute!“ River raised her eyebrows intrigued, as she clambered back to her feet.

“River!“ the blond Doctor exclaimed, a wide grin spreading across her face. The other Doctors - surprisingly even the ones that didn’t really know who she was - mirrored the expression upon lying eyes on their wife..

“Professor!“ Vastra elbowed River who took delight in the attention suddenly devoted to her. The air was humming with energy, if another TARDIS decided to pop up now, things would surely go very wrong indeed.

“Right, everyone, this is getting a tiny bit complicated…“ River announced, though somewhat half-heartedly as she made eyes at her numerous husbands and wife, so Vastra decided it best to take things in her own hands:

“And by tiny bit complicated the professor means to say you are disrupting the very fabric of time.“ She put her hands on her hips, her voice stern. “In my house. On my wedding day. And as I would like to actually get married later today, it would be nice if time could carry on and not break, not today.“

“Oh right.“ The Doctors exchanged concerned glances.

“Yeah, I suppose that wouldn’t be very good, would it…“

“So if you wouldn’t mind parking your TARDISes elsewhere,“ Vastra carried on and there were more nods from various Doctors:

“Right.“

“Sure.“

“Naturally.“

“But… which one of us gets to stay? We’re all invited,“ it was the oldest Doctor that spoke up. She was looking at River with stars in her eyes, and it melted the professor’s heart. She evidently hadn’t seen her in a long time and was keen to stay.

“Ah yes, that may have been an oversight on my part…“ River admitted sheepishly as she had sent a message on the psychic paper. One that had clearly reached all of them.

“Well, I think there’s only one thing for it,“ a voice sounded from the doorway, and everyone whirled around. Jenny crossed her arms in front of her chest in amusement as she watched the peculiar scene in front of her.

Everyone was at a loss for words but Vastra in particular. Jenny was wearing a stunning wedding dress of white lace, her hair was pinned up with white flowers and her bright smile was the most dazzling thing of all.

“Darling, it’s…“ Vastra was going to say that everything was alright and dealt with. She was going to say that it was far too early for her to be down here. She was going to say that they shouldn’t be seeing each other yet, but all she could manage was: “You look beautiful.“

“And you’re not changed yet,“ Jenny smirked. “You better, as soon as time carries on.“

“We will have this sorted in a minute, Jenny, I’m so sorry about this.“ River said but the bride just laughed.

“I should have expected today wouldn’t go off without a hitch,“ she commented. “Just as… extraordinary as the rest of our life.“ She smiled at Vastra who gave a soft chuckle as well.

“You said there was one thing for it? What solution did you have in mind, my love?“

“Well I suppose, to keep things fair, we will have to repeat the ceremony a few times, won’t we. So everyone can attend.“ Jenny grinned as Vastra’s face fell.

“Are you serious?“

“Well, it’s only fair. Don’t tell me it’s such a hardship to keep kissing me,“ Jenny winked to a chorus of cheers. She wrapped her arms around her wife-to-be who allowed herself to be pulled into a hug.

Suddenly there was another discharge of energy.

“Alright everyone, move your TARDISes!“ Vastra exclaimed, and the Doctors jumped into action. “It’s gonna be a long and beautiful day.“ She smiled at Jenny and pressed a loving kiss to her lips. The first of many they would share that day.

#Doctor who #fanfiction #prompt #river song #thirteenth doctor #madame vastra #jenny flint #fluff #crack #banter #space wives #yowzah #paternoster gang #dw fanfic #femslash #multiple doctor #strax

[sh1tbird-shantytown]

I’ve had this idea for a bit but: the whole town somehow finds out about how Neil “parents” billy and Hopper arrest him. To get him to go to jail billy needs to testify against his father but he just c a n t. Cause it’s still his dad and he’s already lost his mother. So Steve or Joyce has to try to convince him to at least try. But will he be able to stand up there and tell and relive everything his father has done to him? What if he doesn’t want this nosey asshole town to know what his father is like?

Steve was adjusting Billy’s tie, solid black against the navy blue dress shirt. He made sure to be gentle, tugged just short of pulling Billy along with the force. But Billy’s mind was somewhere else anyway.

“You’re going to do real good,” Steve brushed the bottom of the mullet back. Just growing back to its original length after Neil had taken shears to it three months before.

For such a small town, the court had taken an awfully long time to set a court date for the case. Steve had a hunch Hopper had done that to give Billy longer to heal. No one was really upset about it. Except maybe Neil Hargrove himself who had to stay out in a jail cell for that amount of time.

Even the defender wasn’t fully on Neil’s side. Anyone could tell. The runt of all of the choices available who needed more time in the courtroom and less time away from the office. It was going to be a simple trial. No one even liked Neil Hargrove. And the evidence was clear even without the evidence. Steve hadn’t even bothered polishing his shoes.

“I don’t want to go,” Billy murmured. Real quick, so much so Steve almost didn’t hear anything.

“What did you say?” he smiled, knew a smile could loosen Billy up when he was anxious sometimes. It just barely worked.

“I can’t go in today,” Billy went to tug the tie off but must have thought better of it before he let his arm drop. “I’m not going to that courthouse.”

Steve flattened his palm against Billy’s shoulder, “Oh common, Bill. It’ll be an easy win—“

“I know!” Billy shouted. Off the reins. “I know that fully well. But do you think I want to lose both my parents?” he looked accusingly at Steve and posted a finger in his nose. “I’m not ready to be an orphan.” Steve parted his lips to object but Billy interrupted again. “And I might as well be one if he goes to prison for as long as they’re saying.”

Joyce appeared in the doorway, look taken aback but not surprised.

“I have to say,” she spoke so lightly that Billy barely made a movement at her sudden presence. “I thought you’d be skipping for joy to get him out of your life. He’s done such awful things to you,” she started untying the untouched dress shoes reserved for Billy.

Billy stumbled back a little and fell ungracefully onto the ottoman at the end of the bed, “I can’t do this. Ever.”

Joyce turned to face him better, “Is that you speaking or the little Neil in your head telling you what to do still?” Billy’s expression morphed into something akin to surprise and assumption. Joyce smiled as kindly as any good willed mother would. “Oh, yes, I know precisely what that little-big voice can do. It’s telling you to protect him even though a little part of you knows which side is really what you want. All you’ve known is them, and it’s harder than it should be to shove them off. Even when they’re hurting you the most.”

Steve was nodding along in agreement, a faraway look to his eye. Billy watched him come back and regard Billy with a little more wisdom than usual.

“Before I moved out of my parents’ house, as I was packing the car, I almost brought everything inside. I had actually,” he laughed and it echoed; a bit hollow. “I had carried back in the bathroom box and then I realized.” Steve didn’t seem at all fazed but his mini audience. “No matter how long I stayed in that house,” he picked up the hairbrush on the dresser, “They’d never change for me.” Billy didn’t look away as Steve started parting his hair properly and detangling it back. “Because,” he sighed like something pained him, “Most people won’t change for anybody.” He set the brush down and cupped Billy’s face with both hands. “So what’s the point in giving them the freedom to become nothing?”

“It’s a cycle,” Joyce set the shoes by Billy’s feet. “One that you’ll never be able to break.” She looked over him and then pulled something from her pocket. “But it is one,” she handed him a piece of bubblegum, “You have control over.” He took it from her and smiled hesitantly.

“Can we do this?” Steve knelt down and held the shoe out for him to put his foot through.

“It’s worth a shot,” Billy decided.

Steve stood and kissed both his cheeks authentically. “You bet your ass it’s worth a shot,” he whispered to Billy. Joyce shook her head fondly as she left the room. Billy was left baffled and Steve touched their noses together, “You are strong, Billy Hargrove. So don’t let him sway your preservation.”

“I won’t. Not anymore.”

send me hc and prompts :) anons welcome always too

#i decided to have a happy ending :) #billy hargrove #steve harrington #joyce byers #stranger things #harringrove #billy/steve #thanks anon :)

[princessphilly]

Hockey Fic Exchange: Second Chance in Chicago

This is for the @hockeynetwork​ winter gift exchange. I was matched with my friend, @texanstarslove​ and it was relatively easy to give her what she wanted. 

Title: Second Chance in Chicago

Player: Jonathan Toews

Genre: Angst, smut

Word count: 6410 words

 March 2007

“Wouldja look at that? There’s the future NHL star, looking like the dork he is.”

Lizzie stuck out her tongue as Rachel announced the presence of the asshole himself, Jonathan Toews. They were all sophomores at UND but he had gotten drafted third overall by the Chicago Blackhawks last year. Hockey ruled UND so the team already had a high profile. But this year’s team looked like it would do some damage in the tournament so all eyes were really on them.

Tonight, Lizzie and her friends had decided to go to a frat party at the Beta house. It was a cold early March Thursday night but she had been in the mood to party. Unfortunately, the party had been invaded by the hockey team.

Jonathan grinned, his deep brown eyes sparkling like he had already pregamed. “Hey ladies,” he greeted before grabbing Lizzie and giving her a hug.

“Ew!”

Lizzie pushed Jonathan away. He definitely had pregamed, he smelled like good old Vladimir vodka. He was going to have a fucking hangover tomorrow.

Jonathan pouted. “I thought we were friends, Lizzie,” he exclaimed as he wrapped his arms around Lizzie again

“When did you think that?”

Rachel and Bethany snickered. It was a bit of a running joke, this animosity between Lizzie and Tazer. No one quite knew how it really started except it had been a freshman year hook up that ended bad. At least, that was the rumor. Ever since, Lizzie couldn’t stand Jonathan and Jonathan did every thing possible to needle her.

Lizzie flipped her hair over her shoulder before elbowing Jonathan in the ribs. Giving him an angelic smile, she ordered, “Don’t touch me.”

Being the drunken asshole he was at the moment, Jonathan leaned down and murmured in her ear, “You didn’t say that last weekend.”

“Ugh!”

Lizzie pushed Jonathan away before stomping towards the keg. Jonathan shrugged as TJ and some of the other hockey players came in. She was able to avoid him for the rest of the night and even flirted with a couple of junior guys she hadn’t met. Of course, as soon as she went to get a breather from the hot party, Jonathan was already outside.

Shivering, Lizzie huddled close to the door, planning to ignore Toews. There had been a snowstorm the other day and there was a good ten inches of snow on the ground.  

“Supposed to snow again tomorrow.”

Lizzie let out a loud sigh. Of course, he couldn’t respect her silent plea to be left alone. “This is North Dakota. It’s always snowing.”

Turning to her left, Lizzie looked at Jonathan. For once, he didn’t have his cocky, self-assured, ‘I’m the one in complete charge’ look on his face. He looked slightly pensive and a bit unsure. “Here, have my hoodie.”

“I don’t-,” Lizzie started to say but she relented as Jonathan put his hoodie over her head, pulling it down. She was cold as fuck, shivering in just a short-sleeved shirt and her jeans. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“You’re welcome.”

They stood there for several moments, breath turning into puffs of icicles before Jonathan finally broke the ice. “Ridley, really?”

“Oh, you know him?” Lizzie tensed, UND wasn’t as big as other schools but she could at least have found someone that Jonathan didn’t already know. But then, hockey ruled here and he knew more people than her so yeah, just her fucking luck.

“He’s cool.” Jonathan shrugged, suddenly feeling nervous as fuck. It really wasn’t his area to talk, he didn’t really want to be a cock-block, but fuck it. “He’s not an asshole or anything. But we both know that’s not who you really want.”

“Oh really? Who told you what I really want?”

He hadn’t really planned to do it now; Jonathan had planned to go for it next month. But he already had told coach and his teammates that he was going pro after this season, so he might as well do it. “We have unfinished business, Elizabeth.”

Lizzie froze at Jonathan’s use of her full name.  He was the only one here at UND who ever used her full name. It brought back memories, those first weeks of spring semester of freshman year. Memories of doing things that would have had Momma reaching for her rosary and Papa yanking her out of UND to go into a convent. She bit out, “No, we don’t.”

“So, that’s why you called me last Saturday, asking me to come over after the game?”

Lizzie rolled her eyes. “I was drunk,” she very primly replied, staring at her nails. She thought to herself, ‘I need a manicure.’

“Then last weekend, you came over and you definitely weren’t drunk.”

Lizzie shrugged, pretending she didn’t hear what Jonathan said. She didn’t want to admit the truth; Jonathan made her nervous. She was 19 and every time she was with him, she felt like this could be something that could be forever. But Lizzie had plans; she was planning to go east for law school, get out of North Dakota forever. This wasn’t the time to even think of settling down with anyone, especially not with Jonathan since he was going pro. Even though, her traitorous pussy reminded her, Jonathan made her cum better than anyone else and wasn’t scared to choke, bite, or spank her unlike other guys.

Jonathan growled, of course Lizzie would be acting obtuse. He wasn’t looking to settle down or anything serious, he was just about to turn 19 and about to go to Chicago in five and a half months to start his pro career. Jonathan did really like Lizzie a lot and wouldn’t be against putting a label on what was going on. Then, Lizzie got cold feet last year and had been stringing him along for over a year. It would be nice if Lizzie actually admitted that they had something going instead of being nasty to his face but fucking with him late at night.

“Okay, since you don’t want to face reality, I’m just going to say it. It’s not fair that you like to treat me like shit in public but you want me to fuck you when no one is looking.”

Lizzie opened her mouth before closing it. From the tone of voice that Jonathan had used, it sounded harsh. Like she was using him like a whore. But Jonathan wasn’t done.

“Don’t worry about my hoodie, I’ll get it before I leave.”

Jonathan turned around and went back inside of the party. Lizzie stayed outside for several more minutes, pensive. Then she harrumphed and rejoined the party, resolute that she was going to ignore Jonathan once she gave him his hoodie back.

**

Twelve years later

Lizzie brushed her ginger hair over her shoulder. It was weird to be ginger for the first time since she was fifteen. The past years, she had been a very faithful blonde but it was time to do something very different.

“Not bad for a rancher’s daughter.”

Lizzie twirled in her full-length mirror, admiring the way the navy-blue dress fit her body, accessorized with her diamond hoop earrings, tennis bracelet, class ring, and the brand-new patent leather heels she had managed to score on clearance at Neiman Marcus. Very much the uniform of an intellectual property litigator who had just made partner, not the yee-haw who had went to UND. But right now, as she thought about tonight, Lizzie felt like the yee-haw she tried to suppress.

Tonight, there was a fundraising cocktail hour for her firm, Bradley, Lewis, and Cooper. This would be the first one that Lizzie attended since she transferred to the Chicago office from Atlanta. She was good at gladhanding and charming people, attending Penn Law had sucked the yee-haw from Lizzie’s accent. Now, she was Elizabeth Romanelli, ready to make connections while raising funds for the Children’s Miracle Network.

Only fly in the ointment was that this fundraiser was being held at the United Center. Not only that, it was rumored that the firm was able to get a couple of players for the Blackhawks to appear. Bradley, Lewis, and Cooper did some work for the Blackhawks, mainly with local TV contracts and sponsorships. Lizzie took in a deep fortifying breath. “It has been years,’ she told herself. “There’s no need to be nervous seeing Jon again.”

She turned around and grabbed her coat. It was mid fall but the temperature dropped enough at night that Lizzie wanted to wear her coat just in case. Before she left, she looked at her left ring finger. Taking a deep breath, she slid her old wedding ring off her finger. It was a new start, time to act like it.

**

The fundraiser went pretty well, in Lizzie’s eyes. It was her first firm social event in Chicago so most of it was spent shaking hands, exchanging business cards, and talking some shop. There were a couple of Blackhawks players there, none of that Lizzie recognized. She admitted several times while in conversation, that she was more of a college hockey than pro hockey fan.

Then, the one person she was hoping wouldn’t show up, showed up. Lizzie worked hard not to check Jonathan out but he had the kind of presence that commanded attention. His hair was cut short and the once lanky frame had filled out completely. Lizzie smirked when she saw one of her fellow attendees lick her lips but she couldn’t blame her. Jonathan looked delicious in a black suit with a pristine white shirt, no tie. He looked like casual, dominant elegance in a hockey player package as he made his rounds the room.

“You’re lucky that your department doesn’t work with the Blackhawks on anything,” said the woman who licked her lips. Lizzie looked down and looked at her name tag, it said ‘Elise’.

“Oh why?”

Lizzie took a sip of her pinot grigio, waiting for a reply. Elise didn’t disappoint as she whispered, “He’s single and my law school loans say he would be perfect for them.”

She couldn’t resist laughing at that statement; Lizzie totally understood where Elise was coming from. But as soon as her laughter faded, there was Jonathan Toews, right in front of them. Elise looked up at him, obviously starstruck. Lizzie put her best courtroom face as she stuck out her hand. “Hello, I’m Elizabeth Romanelli. You are?”

Jonathan blinked when Lizzie introduced herself as Elizabeth Romanelli. She was Lizzie MacArthur in the flesh, all these years later. Grasping her hand, Jonathan said, “Jonathan Toews, but you know who I am.”

Jonathan kept his best PR smile on his face as he processed his thoughts. This was Lizzie, the only one who got away. She was a redhead now, not a blonde, but those green eyes were still the same. Deep green eyes that always brimmed with an intelligence that had made Jon feel like he was an idiot when they first met at UND.

“Oh, how do you two know each other?”

Lizzie managed to keep her expression completely neutral while Jon reddened a bit. He dropped her hand as he said, “We went to college together.”

“Where was that,” Elise innocently asked and Lizzie wasn’t sure if she was truly curious or if she was being a bit catty.

“I went to University of North Dakota with Mr. Toews for undergrad,” Lizzie said. “Then I did Penn Law.”

Elise replied, “Oh. I remember reading that once.”

Lizzie refused to roll her eyes as Jon made small talk about the hockey season with Elise. Spotting a waiter, Elise raised her hand for another glass of wine. Tonight, was looking like it was about to be long. Before she could make her escape, Elise exclaimed, “Oh, there’s Mr. Schmidt, I need to talk to him! It was so nice to meet you and talk to you, Mr. Toews, Ms. Romanelli.”

Lizzie sighed as she scampered away, leaving her alone with Jonathan.

“Long time, no see,” Jonathan said, taking a sip of his water. Tomorrow was a game night and while he enjoyed drinking, he had no interest in doing anything that would keep him out of peak performance. But looking at Lizzie, he wished he had something stronger. The years had done her good; she looked curvier, stronger, hotter. He felt his pants tighten and Jonathan thought of his smelly hockey gear to deflate his hard on.

Lizzie stroked the curve of her new wine glass before replying, “I know. Wasn’t necessarily planned.”

“Romanelli?”

“I was married,” Lizzie’s smile tightened.

Jonathan quickly replied, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ask anything that would make you feel- “

“It’s okay, let’s not go there, okay. Before you ask, I’m a widow.” Lizzie looked down at her wine. It had been long enough that she knew she wouldn’t break down but it was awkward to talk about it with her first college hookup/almost boyfriend. After all these years, Jonathan still had an affect on her. She felt a bit lightheaded but her once dormant libido had flared up as soon as they shook hands. It was as if her body had decided that someone worthy was nearby and it was time.

“I’m sorry,” Jonathan repeated, his voice low as he ran his fingers through his short hair. It was a bit overwhelming seeing Lizzie again but he was already damn sure that he needed to see her again. As they exchanged pleasantries, Jon moved on to another group at the fundraiser. But every now and then, he made sure to catch her in the crowd.

At the end of the night, he was finally able to get Lizzie alone, again. “Now that you’re in Chicago, why don’t we go out? As old friends?”

Lizzie laughed as she waited for her coat. “We weren’t old friends and you know it.”

“But who said that we can’t be at least friends now?”

Jonathan gave Lizzie a big smile while she scoffed, “I can tell by the way you’ve been looking at me all night that you aren’t interested in being just friends.”

“How was I looking at you?”

Jonathan leaned into Lizzie as he noticed that Seabs was nearby. While he loved Seabs as a brother, he didn’t want him to have any idea of what he was planning, yet.

Lizzie batted her lashes at Jonathan before replying, “Like you never seen a woman before. I have to keep the conversation business casual but we both know what I’d really like to say.”

“Then, you should let me have your phone number.”

“Smooth, Toews,” Lizzie commented. “Very smooth.”

“I try.”

Jonathan couldn’t help himself; as Lizzie received her coat from the coat check, he helped her put it on.

“Wow, I don’t know if you’re actually a gentleman now or if you’re trying to get points,” Lizzie quipped.

Jonathan gave her an aw-shucks grin and a shrug. Despite her better judgment, Lizzie figured that it couldn’t hurt. She didn’t really know anyone yet in Chicago and it would be nice to talk to someone who she at least knew from college. But she didn’t want to openly give it to Jonathan so she took the moment to turn and grab paper and a pen from a table. Writing her number and snap down, she slid it into Jonathan’s pocket.

“There, now you can never say I never gave you anything.”

Lizzie turned and sauntered away. Jonathan fished through his pockets and grabbed the paper, grinning and laughing to himself.

**

Lizzie had to give Jonathan credit. He knew how to attempt to get a woman’s attention. The flowers were a nice touch; not too ostentatious and he was smart enough not to attach his name to them. But Lizzie knew exactly who they were from because there were exactly nineteen pink and nineteen white roses in Monday’s bouquet. Yesterday’s bouquet was a set of nineteen purple flowers that after she looked them up, Lizzie found out that they were purple columbine. Today’s bouquet involved nineteen white camelias and nineteen red chrysanthemums.

“This guy must really like you.”

Lizzie turned around to see Peter, her paralegal. He was pointing at the flowers, a pensive look on his face.

“Really? He just wants my attention.” Lizzie dismissively waved towards the flowers but inwardly, she was loving it.

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Okay, whatever you say. Anyway, I have five messages from the managing partners.”

“I already know what they want and I already reviewed the files and sent them to Kristin, Jacques, and Malik. They are working on the briefs for the arbitration and they should all be done by the end of the work day. I will prep my own opening argument myself for the hearing when we are done talking. You can quote everything I just said in your email,” Lizzie stated with a smile on her face. This was her first arbitration hearing at the Chicago office with her new associates working under her. But she knew it would go well.

“But the flowers. I’d look them up, Ms. Romanelli. He’s sending you a message with each bouquet. Especially that first one with those kind of pink roses, maiden blush roses? Oh, he’s definitely telling you something.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Lizzie brushed Peter off, her mind already back on work. However, she messaged Jon later, I like jasmine, lily of the valley, the most.

The next day, there was a bouquet with yellow jasmine, lily of the valley, and red pink flowers, the number adding to 19 and a note, looking forward to seeing you tonight.

**

Lizzie was still a mystery and Jonathan was desperate to figure her out. This was their sixth date and every time he felt like he was getting closer to her, Lizzie pulled back. Jon understood but at the same time, he was getting annoyed. He was also horny as fuck and trying very hard not to let his cock dictate his actions.

Tonight, Lizzie wore a little black dress with strappy heels to dinner and all Jonathan could think of was having Lizzie wear those heels while he fucked her hard and fast. It took all his willpower to keep the conversation light during dinner as his traitorous brain filled with all kinds of dirty images. Now, they were having post dinner drinks at a place Kaner had suggested. It was very intimate, the kind of place for seduction. Unfortunately, Jonathan thought, there would probably be no seduction tonight as he stood on the wall with Lizzie.

“I intentionally wore these for you.”

Lizzie fluttered her eyelashes at Jon’s dumbfounded expression. She wasn’t dumb; she knew exactly the kind of affect she had on men. Lizzie had to give Jonathan credit; he was doing a good job of not being a stupid hornball.

“I love them,” Jonathan drawled before taking a sip of his whiskey on the rocks. He told himself to be patient, as they continued to talk but after another half-hour talking about football, Jon finally broached the subject. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Are you,” Lizzie countered. She went out on a couple of dates with a couple of different guys when the Blackhawks were out of town because, in her mind, she was still a free agent. Doing that actually made Lizzie feel more comfortable with going out with Jonathan. Not that the other dates were bad but Lizzie had to admit to herself that there was still something more with Jonathan.

“No,” Jonathan admitted. His DMs were full on all social media so he could go out with anyone he wanted if he truly felt like it. But right now, he really was just interested in Lizzie.

“That’s nice.”

Lizzie twirled the straw in her cocktail. Jonathan thought about what to say but ended up blurting out, “I still think about some of the things we did.”

“Woooooooow.”

Blushing, Lizzie bit her lip. Some of those memories had come back since she had seen Jonathan again. Some of those things that had seemed extra sinful at eighteen and nineteen were mainstream these days. Plus, Greg had tried but he didn’t have that same aura that teenage Jonathan had. Adult Jonathan had that dominant aura in spades and it was tempting.

Lizzie added, “And?”

Jonathan moved closer to Lizzie, his big body bracketing hers, his monotone voice even deeper, “You remember when I tied you up the first time?”

“That was…. interesting,“ Lizzie replied. She felt flushed, that memory now in her brain. They had been fumbling around and Jonathan had tied her up before making her beg and scream his name. But the knot had got stuck and after he cut her out, Lizzie had chafed skin on both of her wrists. “It was an interesting experiment.”

Jonathan licked his lips. He noticed that Lizzie was flushed, her body leaning towards his. It was almost heady, the tension, he could taste it. So, he decided to press into the attack.

“We’ve both grown up now. I mean, I know what I love to do in the bedroom and I’m not a teen boy fumbling around.”

Lizzie resisted the urge to roll her eyes at Jonathan’s pronouncement. Steeling her face so that she looked impassive, inwardly she was freaking out a bit. Jonathan had been pretty good fuck in college, better than the rest of her boyfriends before she married Greg. But this Jonathan, three times Stanley Cup winner and hockey superstar Jonathan, he seemed lethal.

And he knew it as he gave Lizzie a little smirk and a wink.

“Don’t worry Lizzie, no one is going to judge you now if you like a little pain. I definitely won’t. You know I liked giving it to you when we were experimenting.”

Exasperated, Lizzie exclaimed, “You’re still so arrogant! I seriously doubt you’d have a chance to fuck me again.”

Jonathan moved closer and Lizzie backed up, backing into the wall. Jonathan got close enough that Lizzie could smell his expensive cologne but far enough that she could easily move away if she wanted to.

“I don’t know why you’re still lying to yourself all these years later,” Jonathan murmured, his dark brown eyes looking black. “But I’m patient, I can still wait. You still want me and I’ve always wanted you.”

Lizzie bit her lip and Jonathan resisted the urge to groan. He had thought that he had forgotten her but just meeting her again two months ago had brought back those old feelings. Now, he was getting tired of playing cat and mouse but from what he had learned from TJ and Ridley, Jonathan was trying to be careful and tactical with his advances. He at least managed to get her to go out with him. His cock could wait.

Of course, after telling himself that, images from a decade ago filled his head. Ignoring them, Jonathan instead taunted, “Nothing to say? I never thought lawyers could be rendered speechless.”

Instead of replying, Lizzie reached out and touched Jonathan’s sweater. It was super soft and felt like it was made from the finest cashmere. She finally replied, voice low and soft, “Why am I so attracted to you? This shouldn’t really be happening.”

“Fate.”

It was a very simple reply as Jonathan grabbed her hand and brought it up to his lips. He kissed her hand, just a brief touch of closed lips to skin. But it felt like electricity coursed through both of them. Jonathan recovered first before giving Lizzie a devilish smile. “Night, night Elizabeth.”

***

“He’s way too smooth.”

Lizzie took in a deep breath as she watched the first snowfall of the year through her office window. Rachel’s laughter at her complaint registered super loud over her ear pod.

Rachel commented, “Of course he is, he’s had over a decade of practice. I can’t believe he’s still interested; I think Jon has dated models and he could date anyone. You’re lucky as hell, Lizzie.”

Lizzie pouted as she moved away from the window. “I don’t know if I want to be lucky.”

“Well, I remember all of the sneaking around you’d did when we were in college. You had no problems fucking him in private.”

“RACHEL!! Oh, my Gawd, you knew that?!?”

Lizzie put her hand on her forehead, mortified. She thought she had been cautious.

Rachel chuckled before continuing, “No one else figured it out. But it was obvious that sparks were flying. And then Jon goes pro and you end up dating around until you met Greg. But you never were as happy as you were freshman spring.”

Lizzie sighed, feeling a headache beginning to start. “Greg, you know I loved Greg.”

“I know honey, if you hadn’t, I would have seriously considered stopping the wedding,” Rachel consoled. “And he did help you escape the ranch and your parents’ plans.”

“I’ve been a widow for 3 years and this is the first time I’ve been attracted to a man,” Lizzie blurted out. Her cheeks reddened as she realized her admission.

There was an extended pause before Rachel finally replied. “Then you should go for it. Greg wouldn’t want you to give up on sex because he’s gone.”

Lizzie flipped through the messages on her work phone as she pondered Rachel’s words.

“I gotta go, Alyssa is about done with school and the baby should be up any minute. Stop thinking and just fuck him. Just remember to put color corrector and concealer over any marks Jonny leaves on you.”

Lizzie exclaimed, “Rachel,” but she had already hung up. Checking her personal phone for messages, Lizzie grinned when she saw she had a snap from Jon. Opening the snap, she saw a photo of Jon signing jerseys and picks with a note of can’t wait to give you one.

Lizzie responded; too bad I’ll be too busy to get one for the next couple of weeks

Lizzie put her phone down, ready to focus on her work before getting a new message from Jon. I told u I can be patient.

**

Lizzie looked down at her list of pros and cons. All the pros were reasons why she should fuck Jonathan: get rid of all the unresolved tension from college, he’s an already proven great fuck, probably the best guy to be her first fuck since Greg passed away. The cons were that he was Jonathan Toews, he was famous, and he did have the ability to be an asshole. Her skeptical side told Lizzie that she probably couldn’t keep it casual but the other side was like, was that a bad thing?

Shaking her head, Lizzie pulled on a pair of jeans before putting on a sweater. The Blackhawks were back in town and last night, she went to the game courtesy of Jonathan. Lizzie had taken Elise with her and they enjoyed the Blackhawks winning against the Flames. It was actually fun as Lizzie explained some of the finer points of hockey, such as power plays, penalty kills, offsides, and the fact that all refs in all sports were absolutely awful. Tonight, she actually told Jon she would come over after they saw a movie.

Lizzie was curious about where Jonathan lived. She knew it was in an area called Lincoln Park; she lived in the outskirts of the North Side. Her student loans from law school demanded payment so Lizzie moved in the nicest area she could afford, in a gentrifying neighborhood. “Get a taste of how the rich live tonight,” Lizzie said to herself. However, she did put on a matching pair of underwear just in case she decided to do more.

**

Jonathan looked at Lizzie as the car pulled up to his place. He had been on his best behavior tonight; no sly comments, etc. after last time. But Lizzie had been cuddly during the movie and now, she… he couldn’t read her actions.

Jon entered his code and led Lizzie inside. “Very nice,” Lizzie commented as they walked through the first floor of his place.

“Oh wow, you have my favorite flowers,” Lizzie exclaimed as they walked into his kitchen. There was a vase with Spanish Jasmine flowers.

Jonathan shrugged even though he was inwardly pleased. He had ordered them this afternoon, a rush order when Lizzie said she would come over. Now she was here and he felt at a loss. His cock said to seduce her, his brain said to wait for her cues and see if she was actually interested. Jonathan grabbed two cups and got himself and Lizzie a glass of water before guiding her back into the living room.

“More movies,” Lizzie teased as she made herself comfortable on his leather couch.

Jonathan shook his head no, suddenly nervous as he cut on the TV. He didn’t want to fuck it up.

Lizzie smirked as she watched indecision on Jonathan’s face. Tonight, had been their first date since that conversation and it was obvious that Jonathan was still very interested but didn’t want to do anything that seemed pushy. Lizzie thought at first it was because they were out in public but she realized that if she wanted to actually go there again, she would have to bring it up.

“What are you thinking about, Jon,” Lizzie asked, intentionally shortening his name.

Jonathan put his arms on the back of the couch and mentally said fuck it. “Do you want to good answer or the dirty answer?”

“Dirty answer?”

Lizzie grinned as Jonathan gulped then groaned.

“I keep looking at your ass in those jeans and I want to grab it so bad,” Jonathan admitted. Lizzie looked at his big hands and she decided that tonight was the night.

“You can grab it, if you want?”

“Huh, what?”

Jonathan looked so dumbfounded that Lizzie giggled. “I said you can grab it. That’s another way of saying, you can touch me.”

“Are you sure,” Jonathan asked, locking eyes with Lizzie.

Lizzie rolled her eyes before grabbing his hand. “I came here with the full intent of getting fucked. But if you aren’t interested, that’s okay and we can hang out before I go home.”

“Oh, do you really want me to fuck you?”

Jonathan raised an eyebrow as Lizzie flung her hair behind her shoulder. “I want you to kiss me, eat my pussy, maybe I’ll suck your cock, and then fuck me, if you want to get precise.”

“Goddamn,” Jonathan breathed. “Fuck, then why don’t you sit in my lap?”

Lizzie climbed into his lap before locking eyes with Jonathan again. His deep brown eyes looked nearly black and he had stubble all around his jaw. She traced his jaw with her fingers before running her fingers through his hair. His voice a deeper monotone, Jonathan murmured, “I’m not going to bite, unless you want me to do that.”

Instead of replying, Lizzie brushed her lips over Jonathan’s, once, then twice. Then she leaned down and nipped his lip. “I like biting,” she whispered against his lips before kissing him again. Jonathan’s arms came around her waist, keeping Lizzie in place as he began to take over the lazy kiss. Need stretched through their kisses, tongues interacting as over a decade apart melted away. Then Jonathan pulled away. Lizzie reached to pull her sweater off but Jonathan stopped her.

“Let’s go to the bedroom, I don’t want to fuck you for the first time in forever on a couch, at least not this time.”

Lizzie laughed as Jonathan picked her up and nearly ran to his bedroom. She didn’t even get a chance to look around and admire before he was on her. Jonathan’s hands were all over her body as he desperately kissed her. Before Lizzie realized it, her sweater and bra were off and so was Jonathan’s hoodie and t-shirt. She could feel his rock-hard abs against her body as Jonathan rolled so that Lizzie was on top.

“Your tits are still fucking amazing.”

“Thanks,” Lizzie beamed as Jonathan gently kneaded them in his hands.

He murmured, “They are still so sensitive,” as her nipples hardened quickly in his fingers, watching Lizzie’s changes in expression. “So, you’ll tell me right away if I do something you don’t like?”

“Like what,” Lizzie asked.

Jonathan lightly grabbed her throat, something they had never done before but something he had learned that he liked to do. “Like that.”

“Mmmm, this is good,” Lizzie replied. Choking was one of the kinks she had explored with Greg and that she missed.

“Fuck, you got dirtier,” Jonathan stated before rolling Lizzie under him again.

“Why don’t you stop talking and undress me some more,” Lizzie ordered.

Jonathan laughed before idly replying, “Normally, I wouldn’t let you tell me what to do but we haven’t even negotiated that yet. And we aren’t, not tonight.”

Lizzie’s giggled as she shimmied out of her jeans. But those giggles were replaced with moans when Jonathan’s fingers brushed her upper and inner thighs before stroking her pussy through her panties. “So wet for me.”

He had planned to go slow but Jonathan was pretty sure that wasn’t happening, at least not for this first round. He needed to be deep inside of Lizzie, back where he belonged. Jonathan stood up and took off his own jeans and boxers, revealing his very hard cock. Lizzie reached up and ran a hand over his cock before pumping it with both hands.

“I’m not going to last that long,” Jonathan warned as Lizzie began to jerk him off. “I want to cum deep inside of your pussy, Elizabeth.”

“Oh my God,” Lizzie breathed. There was something in the way that Jonathan said her full name, it made her pussy drip even more.

Jonathan reached into his night stand and grabbed a condom. “Be a good girl and put this on me.”

Lizzie took the condom from Jonathan’s hands and opened it. Then she guided it over his cock with a wicked grin on her face. Leaning back on her elbows, Lizzie smirked at Jonathan before sucking her lip into her mouth. “Fuck me, Jonathan.”

Jonathan growled as Lizzie spread her legs, showing him just how wet and ready she was for him. Pulling a leg up and over his shoulder, Jonathan entered Lizzie slowly, making sure she felt every inch. Lizzie moaned, her hands grabbing anywhere they could on Jon as he fucked her, slow soft strokes turning harder with each thrust.

“Fuck you feel so good,” Lizzie groaned as Jonathan gave her a harder thrust, hips grinding with each stroke.

Jonathan managed to reply, “Your pussy still feels like it was made for me.”

He was already close and Jonathan couldn’t hold off even though he could tell that Lizzie wouldn’t cum with him this time. Jonathan’s lips found Lizzie’s as he kissed her while he came. Lizzie let Jonathan ride his high out, she could feel that she was getting closer but she wasn’t there.

Jonathan slumped against Lizzie for a couple moments before withdrawing from her pussy. He took off the condom, telling Lizzie, “Stay there.”

Dumping the condom into the trash, Jonathan pulled Lizzie to the edge of the bed. Spreading her legs, Jonathan knelt in between, fingers spreading her folds. Then his tongue licked her clit and Lizzie arched off the bed. “Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you,” Jonathan cooed as he played with her clit. Then he dove in, licking her juices from her pussy before tongue-fucking Lizzie’s entrance. His fingers continued to roll her clit with light pressure, enough to keep Lizzie on the edge but not enough to get her to cum. Then Jon sucked her clit into her mouth and bit it very lightly, enough of a shock to get Lizzie to cum with a scream, fingers grabbing sheets to hold on for dear life. Jonathan muttered something in French as Lizzie rode out her high. Then she fell asleep with a light snore.

**

Lizzie laid on the bed, her hair fanned out around her head, body too depleted to move yet. But she peeled herself up as Jonathan was sitting up next to her, a MacBook in his lap.

“Wow, what time is it?”

“It’s a little after midnight,” Jonathan replied. He had changed into a pair of sweats and Lizzie licked her lips. He looked really good in gray sweats.

She shrugged. “At least it’s Saturday.”

“I cleaned you up after you passed out.”

Jonathan gave Lizzie a wicked grin as she blushed. “It’s been a while,” she replied.

Lizzie got up and Jonathan pointed to his left, indicating that was the way to get to the bathroom. Lizzie stepped inside of the master bathroom, still too tired to check it out. After taking care of business and washing her hands, Lizzie walked back into Jonathan’s bedroom. Jonathan handed her a t-shirt and said, “You’re too tired to attempt to drive home. You can stay here; I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

“I like cumming so you don’t have to keep them to yourself.”

Lizzie gave Jon a saucy smile while he groaned.

**

Let yourself be happy. Find that guy again, the one who was before me. I just want you to be happy, don’t shrivel up and die because I’m gone.

Lizzie looked at the note, last note from Greg before he passed from non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. Her wedding ring was on next to it, the simple gold band twinkling in the late winter sun.

Today was her seventh month since her move to Chicago, fifth since she met Jonathan for the first time in years. Tonight, she was going to the game, Elise going with her but this time, they were going to sit with the WAGs. Lizzie had met Jonathan’s closest friends and teammates and it was obvious that there was something happening between them. But Lizzie felt the need to look at this one more time.

“I’m going to be happy, Greg,” Lizzie whispered before putting her old wedding ring and the note in a box, setting it next to a vase of nineteen red tulips that Jon had given her. Then she pulled her hair into a ponytail, sent all work calls on her work phone to voicemail. Picking up her personal phone, Lizzie smiled as she looked at the text from Jonathan.

She wasn’t going to run this time. She was going to embrace a future with Jonathan.

#hockeynetwork #Jonathan Toews #smut #angst #drabbles #blurbs #blackhawks #nhl imagines #nhl imagine

[uwua3]

Yo! Can i ask for a cute Pirate AU with an adventure seeking MC pirate captain, who, when she and her crew are making a stop at some port, meets her childhood friend, Tenma, with whom she has romantic tension, only Tenma is a big blushing tsundere mess, and MC is verrrryyy oblivious to his blushiness, but accidentally innocently flirts with him?? If that makes sense? Also oops the soldiers have seen me, the wanted pirate, wanna get out of here and join my crew?

summary: a deal is made between a pirate captain haunted by their legacy and an island medium who wants to go home

warnings: alcohol, death (mentions), cops/police, crime, fights (physical/arguments), fires, ghosts, military, near–death experiences, pirates, slow-burn, swords, unrequited love/love triangle

author’s note: thank you so much for your patience requesting this pirate story~ i did my best to do this justice, as i love pirates more than anything! .*:ﾟ（｀・ω・´）ゝﾟ:*. this was a jolly good time to write, thank you! (please let me know if you would like a part 02 to this, as it ran longer than expected)! thank you!! :D

word count: 6,163

music: ship in a bottle – fin

captain, let’s make a deal.

☀️🌻 sumeragi tenma

even out at sea, you couldn’t escape the fire that destroyed your town years ago. the fire that made you become a pirate captain

you were born by a local village by the coast, where the air tasted like salt no matter what and trade was your community’s main economy

it was home. a place where everyone knew each other as family, where the sun was hot upon even warmer smiles and the euphoric laughter of children surrounded the island. this was the land of the happy, the free, and the united

it wasn’t until the damn navy—your first enemy until death—came

according to heresay, pirates were supposed to plunder and pillage without mercy. pirates were the villain and yet, what would the navy be then? after what they did to you, they were anything but heroes

yonaguni was made of tall palm trees that provided shade during the eternal summer that sunburnt your skin, floating markets by the pier with tricky elderly and learning apprentinces in the family business, and rare wildlife not found anywhere else

now, it was nothing more than hell. you could remember it all—how the flames licked the open wounds from navy seamen, the screams of the innocent replacing what would’ve been last words meant for decades later, the sound of crashing trees blocking every available escape route as birds flew away in the distance

you were just a yonaguni native, and now, there was nothing left of your hometown. it was permanently erased from world history forever, and you were the sole survivor of the island, making you the most wanted vigilante alive

it had been years since you last had a nightmare of the attack. was haunting your brain and traumautizing you for life during every waking hour not enough?

but, you knew the answer why you couldn’t stop mourning the loss of yonaguni

it was nearing the anniversary of your friend, sumeragi tenma’s, death

and, as you climbed to the crow’s nest with the power of the ocean running through your salted veins and spite overwhelming you in the deepest, darkest parts of yourself, you could see it over the horizon

the navy said dead men tell no tales, but you were alive, and you would be a legend

“all hands ahoy or you’ll be given no quarter!” (everyone on deck or you’ll be shown no mercy)

“aye, captain!” your crew replied eagerly, their loyalty unwavering and strong as always. you stood atop of the main mast, surrounded by vast ocean bordering a blue, cloudless sky. even without your telescope, you could see everything in the world

beneath you sounded the swing of the lines (rope) against the wind before two feet landed in the crow’s nest. the sailor had the type of agility that only came from a boy born on sea

“cap, don’t tell me ya forgot about me?” your quartermaster, rurikawa yuki, grinned (a rare sight that only came when the ocean smelt strongest of salt and treasure), standing at the ledge whilst holding onto the lines with one hand. any other novice would’ve immediately fallen off with how strong the random gusts of wind were, but yuki was an enigma and your second in command for a reason

“ahoy, yuki! so long as the jolly rodger waves, this crew will always be ready to set sail.” you responded, sliding down the mast to be in the crow’s nest as well. yuki just rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and leaning upon your frame like it was nothing

“don’t hornswaggle (cheat) me, cap. what are you thinking about?” yuki read you like a map, as expected of the second best cartographer (after master boatswain muku, of course) in all the seven seas. you tried to remain present in the moment, with the wind flowing and sky clear, but it wasn’t enough

“... tell me, yuki. is it so easy to read the distraught upon my face?” you joked, but it fell flat as yuki raised an unimpressed eyebrow at your facade. yuki didn’t take bullshit from anyone, not even his own captain

“aye, do not be acting as if you’re feeding the fish (about to die), captain.” yuki carefully watched if any of their small crew was eavesdropping, but the rest were doing their proper tasks for the morning. cartographer muku was happily reading directions to helmsman misumi. the two were a fantastic pair, considering the “sky” ship hasn’t sunken

surgeon kazunari was dutifully sanitizing his medical tools besides them, taking some time to laugh loudly at some story misumi was dramatically reenacting as he spun the wheel skillfully

“boom about!” yuki called out without looking away, already feeling it in his bones moments before anyone else could. his intuition was unheard of, and you watched no one hesitate as they ducked just in time

“sorry~!” misumi responded without any apologetic tone to his voice whatsoever. his sailor’s grin was infectious and wide, a smile only those accustomed to the fatal winds and waves of the ocean could make. just like everyone else on the “sky” ship, they all were forged by the sea

“smartly make way to land before i toss you off myself!” yuki snapped, but it held no malice. he rolled his eyes unimpressed when kazunari laughed at misumi’s sarcastic salute, knowing pirates did no such navy thing without mockery

“oh, dear yuki, how could i drown with you by my side?” you reached over to ruffle his hair, the precarious creak of the wooden mast the last thing on your mind as yuki swatted at your hand, irritated by the littlest of things as always

“you’re right, i’ll have your head first anyways.” yuki said with no malice, giving you a small frown as his calculating eyes glanced over you once more, trying to find any cracks in your confident visage. when he found nothing, he climbed back down, seemingly unsatisfied when you didn’t break under his stare

(you were one of the few on the crew who didn’t flinch. the other was misumi, who just had no fear towards anything, so it wasn’t personal. after all, misumi was the finest swashbuckler around!)

ahead, your acute sight narrowed in on the growing formation in the distance, your gut tensing before realizing it was far too large to be another ship

with a grin, you hanged over the edge (a habit that no longer scares your crew), your voice amplified as it was carried downward by the wind. it was to be expected, of course, as a yonaguni native, your town always had a special connection to nature that no one else did

“my men, turn your heads and look forward into the horizon! what do you see?”

“land, captain!”

“then let us sail faster! the sooner we reach the shores, the quicker you all can take a damn shower!”

with a shared lighthearted laugh, everyone focused on their role and position towards the land mass ahead. whether it was the possibility of smelling like something else other than a siren’s cove or something more, you smiled, forgetting about last night’s sleepless disturbances

up ahead was fukusaki, sky crew’s next location for the night

after three months or so on sea, your crew’s resources were dwindling (much faster since everyone had a bottomless appetite). it was time to visit a port town to stock up and set sail the next sunrise

sure, it was a rushed habit of yours, but it was never good to stay in one place for too long. that came with the risk of losing again...

besides, who liked a crew of pirates to suddenly come to the town square in their stained clothing and gleaming swords?

after barely securing a place to tie down the great beauty known as “sky”, entering fukusaki was like any other town. merchants upon the docks were experts at haggling prices, civilians went by with their day to day life, and the sun burned everyone’s skin just the same

but as you placed your leather boot upon the wooden dock, something inside you turned. like something had suddenly shifted in the town but you had no idea what

yuki seemed to have felt the same thing, even if his facial expression didn’t change. as kazunari kept muku from fighting with a seller for a map of the local area (misumi was unfortunately encouraging him), yuki inched closer to you, his brows furrowed

“you feel that? something isn’t right.” yuki bluntly stated, eyes scanning his surroundings like usual. except he didn’t know what he was looking for, so a frustrated sigh left his lips

“aye, feels as if someone’s running a rig (playing a trick) on us...” you murmured under your breath, careful not to alarm the returning muku with haughtiness ablaze in his eyes and sheepishness from an apologizing but relieved kazunari (it was hard to believe muku used to be shy prior to joining)

“keep a look out. let you know if somethin’s amiss.” yuki peeled away, checking in with muku asking where the closest tavern was. at the mention of alcohol, misumi jumped in, rambling about how he had already talked to a local about all the best spots

you took a moment to take a deep breath in, the scent of palm trees and fruit replacing your usual endless seas. it wasn’t unsettling, just new. your sea legs itched to return to somewhere always changing, always new, but you knew you couldn’t do that to your friends

you straightened your back and walked with the confidence of a true pirate captain, swinging both your arms around kazunari and misumi, peering down at the map with an easy smile

“alright my hearties, where to?”

this gut feeling could wait, you had a few hours to relax before everything turned upside down

of course the captain got the most inconvenient yet boring jobs that could’ve been assigned

(yuki didn’t look sorry as he happily enjoyed your childish huff at being the grocery shopper, knowing how much you hated to interact with people outside of the crew)

due to your very limited people skills, you awkwardly tried to summon your confidence to come back around all the fukusaki shop vendors. when you were with your crew, all eyes were on you and how high your head was held. but, when alone... a captain was nothing without its crew, you supposed

a messily scrawled list by kazunari was in your hand (never ask a doctor to write anything) as you tried to decipher the words, holding it up to the sun to figure out what the hell he wanted

after getting the main idea of what each person wanted within budget, you stood on the outskirts of the town square, desperately trying to decide what was the best way to approach this situation

you couldn’t appear helpless or confused! how were you supposed to haggle in this state of mind?! as you slowly spun around in a circle to view all of the sellers before settling on a rather small, unimpressive stand

maybe that meant cheaper prices! you thought cleverly, walking over with the poise of a seasoned native. with a neutral expression, you reached a wooden display with a certain swagger to your step

however... there was nothing. as you stood in the front of the set-up and realized no one was there, you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. what kind of service was this? was there no one actually here to sell anything?

before you could leave, a flash of orange appeared in front of you, purple eyes wide as if surprised they even received a customer. “w-wait!” he called out, nearly falling over his own table. this kid would clearly not make it upon a ship, you thought

for whatever reason, you stopped, looking over your shoulder with an unimpressed expression at the simple boy. he was tall and lean, wearing a bandana around his orange hair and an unbuttoned shirt. it was a casual appearance unfit for a merchant

“what is it? i’ve got places to be and there’s nothing here to be sold.” you stated, a wave of shock passing over his face before solidifying in a stubborn crease in his forehead

“huh? what are you talking about? haven’t you come here to get rid of that?”

when he reached out, you jolted back, a surge of energy visible in your body. you felt that strongly, what the hell did this random merchant do to you?!

“w—calm down! stop moving or i can’t remove the yokai! you’re making this difficult.” he demanded roughly, his proper words clipped from an accent unlike any other on this island. there was a certain... twang, to his vocabulary. as if it didn’t sit right, as if it was on the tip of his tongue

so much for customer service! you didn’t listen, dodging his hand like your life depended on it. as you ducked beneath his arm, you gripped his bicep with a death glare. at your narrowed eyes, the orange-haired boy gulped and stared back with astonishment

clearly, fukusaki natives weren’t this rude

“yokai? what the hell are you blubberin’ about, kid?” you questioned, your patience thin like a century-old rope worn down by salt. he set his lips in a straight line, as if trying to assess if you were serious or not. when you didn’t budge, he yanked his arm back and rubbed the sore spot, giving in

“ghosts. you got more spirits than normal around you, they’ve been there for a long time.”

you were about to retort, but fell silent at the remembrance of yonaguni. had your ancestors been with you all this time? you almost couldn’t believe you’ve been actually haunted by their deaths for this long

“i have no ghosts. do not try to scam me.” you flatly said before turning on your heel, intent on leaving the possibility of ghosts behind before tenma took a hold on your arm this time

“but, they’re trying to tell you—”

before tenma could finish, an irritated and offended voice boomed just down the cobblestone pathway

“you dare lay your hand on our captain?!”

“yuki, wait!” the crew clambered after him, hands always short of his shirt fabric as yuki’s sword made a sickening sound when pulled out of its sheath. the orange-haired boy let go immediately, attempting to make a run for it before coming face to face with misumi, whose previous smile was cold and nonexistent

it was as if the other merchants disappeared, fearing a start of a fight would be terrible for business. tenma was caught in the middle of a 5-person circle, with yuki pointing the tip of his sword at his throat

“state your name and business for grabbing our captain like that!” yuki was adamant on proving his sword was real by putting it closer to the boy’s adam’s apple. he tried not to shake under the pressure, but you noticed how his feet had no shoes and looked ready to run to anywhere but here

“um... t—johnny. it’s johnny, and i simply belong to a family of fukusaki mediums, that’s all.” johnny(?) said, as if trying to convince himself. all of you secretly exchanged a look, trying to decide whether or not to believe this so-called johnny

“you see ghosts?” yuki scoffed, his position already clear on the issue. ever since you two have met, you knew yuki never believed in anything involving the supernatural. after all, so many mysteries were hidden in the ocean, yuki doubted anything could scare him on land

but, you... you’re starting to believe johnny as you notice his eyes waver towards you. maybe not so much you, but whatever was surrounding you

“yes, sir. i can communicate with them as well. ever since i was a young boy, i’ve brought peace to the dead.” your head snapped towards him at that, something inside of you turning

that boy could bring your ancestors peace? could it be too good to be true? as if hearing your thoughts, johnny nodded to reaffirm your beliefs

before anyone else can join in on the questioning, you held your hand up and everyone fell silent, waiting for your next words. you could easily tell yuki to kill this boy and he would... but you won’t

“how much are your services?”

johnny blinked, clearly not used to this question as he mentally calculated whatever in his head. “uh... i usually don’t get paid.”

“if we took you on your ship, how much then?” (you immediately hushed a protesting yuki and wary crew)

“my payment wouldn’t be money.” johnny quickly said, almost shocking himself with how fast that answer came. you raised an eyebrow at that, about to question his terms before muku turned, eyebrows furrowed

“there’s someone coming.” muku whispered in a hush, immediately on guard as everyone shifted to a defensive position. at the first sound of a boot on ground, kazunari’s eyes widened. a telltale sign of the cop’s traditional uniform, which kazunari knew better than most

“go! go! go!” you ordered, everyone taking off running. without thinking, you took a hold of johnny’s hand. he squeezed it without flinching, turning and impressively staying by your side even as you got faster and faster

you were fast, but you despised running with a passion. if you closed your eyes longer than a blink, you could almost smell the smoke and crack of the tree trunks. for some reason, johnny smelt like coconut, and that humored you to a certain extent as your crew ran for their lives from the officers. someone must’ve alerted local authorities nearby...

even with a map, muku was lost to the island’s complex system. despite being quick on his feet, muku’s eyes frantically analyzed the outdated lines and pressed his lips into a straight line out of frustration. you knew you should’ve stepped in, but what could you have done?

“follow me!” johnny whispered hurriedly, turning into a waypoint before stopping and looking back. your crew subconsciously looked towards you as well, as if asking if this fukasaki native was trustworthy

though, it’s not like you had a choice now

you ran with johnny, the rest of your crew following suit. when you reached a dead end, you expected this to be a mistake before johnny nimbly flung himself up the ivy-covered wall, landing with a hard thud as if he hadn’t done so in a long time. ignoring the pain, johnny extended his hand an impressive height away

“grab my hand and we’ll be free!” pirates weren’t one to say no to freedom (or put all their coins in one chest...), so you got down to provide a boost to your crew mates. it wasn’t a time to be noble, so they all took your support without complaining, easily being able to run past johnny

when it was your turn, the sound of polished boots grew increasingly closer, much to your chagrin. you backed up quietly, gulping and trying not to look behind you as you glanced up. both johnny and yuki were standing there, their hands extended as you got a running start

you closed your eyes, breathed in the imaginary smoke, and leaped, feeling the grip of both their hands upon yours as they helped you up. just as you ducked beneath the foliage, you breathed a sigh of relief as the officers ran by without sparing a second look

when you opened your eyes, you noticed johnny was still holding your hand, his fist tight around yours as you could practically feel his heartbeat through leaning on his shoulder

you got up to thank johnny before noticing yuki’s uncharacteristic quietness and the way his eyes looked between you and johnny... as if he was betrayed

you didn’t think more of it despite the sinking feeling in your stomach

it was a night to celebrate! escaping the cops was no easy feat, especially on a foreign island. your crew, who had taken a liking to johnny’s ability to hold his own, invited him to drinks (not that they needed guidance to the safest tavern, of course...)

you nursed your own drink of choice at a rickety table with the crew, watching as they became less like pirates and more like their own ages with a few drinks and good music. yuki didn’t drink, which was something that had always occurred no matter where they went

johnny was flustered under all the attention, or it was the alcohol everyone insisted he could keep down. you stifled a chuckle when kazunari hooked his arm around tenma’s neck and ruffled his hair, the look upon his face priceless

you took a sip before lowering the cup’s rim, noticing yuki’s wary gaze. he met your eye with a frown, as if hesitating on what to say next. once again, how strange

“captain,” at that, you tried not to outwardly wince. it wasn’t common for yuki to be so... formal with you, at least. “do you truly intend on bringing this stranger with us?”

“johnny is no stranger anymore, yuki. he saved our lives, we are indebted to him.” you flatly said, glancing at johnny once more. yuki huffed, clearly disagreeing with your opinion as he rolled his eyes

“we would’ve been just fine without him. plus, he’s a medium! how do you know he’s the real deal, anyways?”

“i just... know.” you tried to elaborate, but it fell on deaf ears. there were some parts of your past you just couldn’t elaborate on, some parts that wouldn’t make sense to a non-yonaguni native

yuki slammed his water on the wooden table, a sound barely distinguishable in the rowdy atmosphere before getting up with a skid of the stool. he silently left, no doubt heading back to the docks where the stars shined the brightest and moon made things shrouded in dark more visible

you got up and followed without speaking another word. the crew knew disagreements between you & yuki were far and few, so there was no time to ask silly questions

when you reached the outside, the salt in the air and muffled sound of everyone having fun made you stop. behind you, you noticed the door didn’t slam completely as a quick-footed pair of feet made their way besides you

“are... you okay?” johnny asked, his hands in his linen pockets as you exhaled, nodding as you leaned onto the wall. johnny stiffly stood by the door, as if guarding it

“yeah, yeah. i am... just a little tussle, that’s all.” you sounded as if you were trying to convince yourself, but neither of you pointed it out. a few moments of awkward silence passed, before johnny cleared his throat

“okay, i didn’t hear nothin’. just... heard the spirits around you get loud.”

there he went again about the ghosts and spirits! you subconsciously patted your hair down flat, turning to look at johnny with yuki-like skepticism in your narrowed eyes

“how can you see there are ghosts on me? how do i know you’re not pullin’ my leg?” you suspiciously questioned, watching as johnny bristled under the attention. it seemed as if the island natives didn’t question his credibility as a medium

“you know i’m right. you have tens, maybe more, spirits attached to you. i can help you take them away, for a price, of course.”

“which is?”

“i want to find an island lost to me long ago.”

if you blinked, you could’ve sworn you were talking to a past-version of yourself. why did that request seem so familiar?

“do you know its name?”

“nay... my family refuses to tell me anything about where i’m from. all i know is the navy is the reason i lost my parents.”

“mine too.” you admitted with a breath and the conversation paused, you two sharing an understanding expression of sympathy but unshakable faith. you two understood each other despite knowing one another for a few hours

“then, is it settled?” johnny held out his hand, which you took with a firm grip. his palms were soft for an islander, funny enough. he must’ve thought differently since this was one of the few times you took off your leather gloves

“as long as you bring peace to my ancestors, you’re comin’ with me.”

when the hours became late and you ultimately decided everyone passed their limit a long time ago, you and johnny led them all to their barracks with laughs and humor in the air

when you reached the docks, yuki was barely noticeable in the night as he stood upon the mast of the ship, his hair waving in the wind like a flag

he didn’t look at you, not once, so you didn’t climb up. how could you when johnny was holding your hand with his eyes flickering back to you, or whatever was around you?

you introduced johnny to his new quarters and left him to be, feeling free for once in your life that night

morning came with the unfurling of your sails and your position in the crow’s nest. the sky was blue and cloudless, just like everyone predicted as the sea welcomed your crew into its arms

“ahoy, my hearties! off we go to find our next treasure!” you commanded joyously, the crew hurrah-ing in return at your enthusiasm. like most pirates did, your crew’s goal when off-land was to find a ship to rob and make off with their goods

you turned to the side, about to say something before realizing yuki wasn’t next to you. he must’ve slept in, that’s all. you didn’t question it even if he was always on time the years you knew him

disguising your expression of disappointment, you left your crew to their own means, sliding down the mast as per usual. when you landed, you noticed johnny standing awkwardly to the side as everyone was doing their own job

“hey, johnny! what are you muckin’ around for?” you questioned lightheartedly, slamming your freshly-shined boots (after an unfortunate drunk throw-up incident) upon the oak boards. johnny flinched from the sound, unaccustomed to the constantly-busy atmosphere of a large ship

“do you... need any help? i kinda, feel guilty just lazing about in my quarters.” johnny confessed, a red flush against his face as he rubbed the back of his permanently-sunburned neck. you were taken back for a moment, not used to being offered help

“um... you seem to know how to throw a person off their rhythm! i have nothing on mind as of now, hmmm....” after much consideration, you snapped your fingers with a start. “perhaps consider shadowing me for today! get the feel of a captain’s life—”

“no need, captain. i will take him off your hands for you.”

you turned to see yuki besides you, his feet silent and eyes attentive as always. you sensed the tension still imbedded between you two, gulping as you tugged at the collar of your shirt. for some reason, you immediately felt disappointed at the missing opportunity of tenma being with you

why were you feeling this way?! there was no reason to think like that as a busy, efficient pirate captain!

“thank you, yuki. return him in one piece, alright?” you joked, turning away to review what needed to be done that day. as you left, you didn’t notice yuki place a cold grip on johnny’s shoulder with an uncharacteristically eerie stoic pose

johnny looked after you, wondering what was behind that shroud of spirits who wanted nothing more than to see you freed of them

“you’re quite lucky the captain has taken quite a liking to you, johnny, was it?”

yuki & johnny found themselves ending the ship’s tour in the underground of the main deck, located along the cannons placed in their corresponding holes. the smell of gunpowder and flint was nearly suffocating, but yuki moved with ease and seemed to revel in johnny’s tight expression

“y-yes... the captain is very kind and charitable to take me on board.” johnny managed to get out without coughing, his eyes inspecting the materials and wondered how loud it truly was during battle

“you agreed to come so soon. you have no family of your own?” yuki asked innocently, mindlessly fixing the placements of the bombs behind the barrels. johnny shook his head, explaining it wasn’t an emotional attachment he had to fukusaki

“how... suspiciously fortunate.” yuki deadpanned, suddenly whipping around with a blank stare. it caught johnny off guard, who nearly stumbled back into a cannon. yuki wasn’t armed, but his tense demeanor and personality change was jarring

“listen, kid, i’ve got no clue who you are, but you have no reason to be upon this ship.” with every word, yuki seemed to come closer until his pointer finger pushed in the center of johnny’s chest

“you may have fooled everyone else, but our captain has always been too naive. i see right through you, johnny. who are you, really?”

johnny shuddered, backed against the wall and desperately holding onto anything that can keep his wobbly legs up. he didn’t know if it was the rocky seas or yuki’s simmering anger, but he felt like he was staring straight into one of those cannons

“i’m johnny, an island medium who sees ghosts on your captain. it is my duty to let them go, that’s all.”

a moment passed, before yuki took a few steps back. before johnny could react, he found the tip of a real sword pointed at his neck once again

“you’re lying, i know it. do not make me ask you again, who are you?”

johnny tried to remain placid in the face of a weapon, but he gritted his teeth and couldn’t help himself

“why the hell does it matter to you? are you in love with your captain or something?!”

silence, then yuki lowered his sword. he sheathed it back, before turning and leaving without another word. johnny let out a deep breath, sinking to the floor as he closed his eyes

if johnny listened hard enough, he could hear your spirits try to communicate with him. but, their voices were garbled and unlike anything he’s heard before. who were you and why was he here?

the first time you & johnny met in terms of spirits was two weeks after a pattern of sleepless nights

he already found you teetering close to the edge, your hands folded as you searched for something, or someone, past the blackened seas

it was as if some savage sea monster had spilt its ink-like blood into the waters, the once blue surface that reflected lucky skies now murky and as mysterious as the dark side of the moon

with your usual guarded glint now gone, you still seemed just as capable to be the one responsible for such dark seas

“good evening.” johnny mumbled lowly, placing the lantern besides his feet as he made his way next to you. you hummed, not particularly fazed by his sudden appearance despite not paying attention. it’s as if you had eyes in the back of your head, like a sea monster

“i suppose fukusaki isn’t used to the rocking of wooden ships?” you retorted, to which johnny sharply exhaled through his nose, a sign of amusement at your observation

“nay, but... i haven’t been able to properly maintain my sleep schedule ever since boarding. your spirits... are rather loud for ghosts.”

you full-on laughed at this, disturbing the intimate atmosphere between you two. johnny couldn’t help but smile at your worn-down exterior. you presented yourself like you were made of a glass bottle, but you were as intricate as a carved artisan ship

“try living with them your whole life, boy, then you can start complaining about their volume.” you jested lightheartedly, offering a soft smile at the newest recruit. as you leaned back onto the railing of the ship, you watched the constant surface of the waves, as if you could anchor your endless thoughts to davey jone’s locker

johnny mimicked your position, his elbow knocking into yours. his hands were much too soft for a seasoned sailor, you noticed this in the dim lantern light. for a moment, you let your impulses take over and you wondered how they felt against yours

“pardon my words, but when will you let me speak to them? i can never find you through the day...” johnny began to ask, but trailed off when your salted eyes and weariness became apparent in the way you exhaled quietly

“it is not your fault but mine, johnny. this is my ship and i am the captain, that’s all. i cannot allow myself to suddenly become weak in case i am needed.” you spoke like a true hero, well, as much of a hero a pirate could be

johnny didn’t exactly understand, considering he just got up and left his entire life on a whim of a promise to find out who he was. but, he nodded anyways, watching blurred movements of entities swirl around your head like troubled smoke

“what about now? will you let me—?” when johnny reached out, you immediately stepped back, your lips pressed in a straight line as if restraining your true reaction

“you look for every reason to touch me, don’t you?” you tried to force it out like it was nothing, but it was clear how your boots twisted like they were prepared to run away

when was the last time someone physically comforted you in any sense? or... comforted you at all?

“captain...” johnny mumbled, eyes wide with pity and you couldn’t stand it. he called you captain, but he didn’t revere you like a typical person would. he didn’t flinch at your sword or head held high, it was unnerving

“what is the purpose of having a crew if they cannot help you through this?”

the wind wailing against your ears reminded you of how little time there was in a day, and how the sun would rise soon and this cycle of pretending everything was okay would begin again

it was maddening, to live the same day again and again with no change

johnny perhaps was someone you looked forward to, a diversion from the expected

“do you consider yourself apart of my crew, then?” when johnny took a moment to think, you wondered what he was remembering. was it the night where misumi pretended to fall over board to scare everyone or was it when kazunari didn’t react to seeing a skeleton that time? was it when muku could predict every type of weather for the next day without fail or when yuki finally cracked at a joke after a hour of pretending nothing was funny?

or, was it when you two shared glances across the deck, clinked your glasses a little too long, or when your hands ghosted over another when pulling lines?

“yes, your crew is my own as well. and like them, i wish to help you, if you’d let me.”

you always found yourself unsure around johnny, unaware of how to respond in a way worthy of your pirate captain title. as you hesitated, johnny looked you in the eyes and his eyes reminded you of storm clouds thundering in the distance

“why else would you take me on the ‘sky’? if you didn’t want help?”

perhaps those were words you would reveal later, but you couldn’t bring yourself to share the real answer. it was a gut feeling that your world would be turned upside down, and you were right when you felt your throat dry at johnny’s hopeful gaze

johnny continued on, straightening his usual bent posture and his voice carried, like he was one with nature. as if they supported him unconditionally

“i know this is your own battle to win and this is your ship and you are my—our captain, but please... let’s make a deal.”

you stood, intrigued, as you witnessed a side of johnny never seen before. once meek, once easily intimidated, now talked to you like an equal

“let’s promise to say things we both really feel. be honest with me, do you want me to help? to remove the spirits and let them move on?” when you nodded, johnny let out a breath of relief and moved closer, gathering your hands in his. when you didn’t pull away and only tensed, he spoke as if he was sure things would change

“i can help you, i can make them go away. you bring me back to my home, i let your spirits go home. deal?”

“is that how you truly feel?”

“and more.” johnny’s eyes glanced down, and you felt your heart stutter as if the surface rocked

“i feel the same way. i wish to help you.”

that night, you remembered for the first time in a long time, a captain was nothing without its crew

#sumeragi tenma #tenma sumeragi #a3! act! addict! actors! #a3! #act! addict! actors! #a3! actor training game #a3! headcanons #act! addict! actors! headcanons #mankai a3! #mankai company #a3! x reader #a3 x reader #tenma x reader #a3! tenma #a3 tenma

[bimboamyrose]

On the Scarlett Sea Part 2 / 2

A ~Pirate~ Metamy Fanfic - [Link to Part 1 & Synopsis]  - [AO3 Link]

In collaboration with @mmm-asbestos​ & their pirate Metamy AU Happy 2021 everyone  ❤ ❤ ❤

Part 2

There was no natural light to be found in Amy’s room even in the morning. The ship was incredibly quiet as it sailed on calm waters with its skeleton crew. This combined with the lack of any sort of alarm made it very easy to sleep- maybe too easy. CLANG, CLANG, CLANG! Amy had no idea what time it was and felt disoriented and started when she awoke in the dark, unfamiliar room. CLANG, CLANG, CLANG! The metallic pounding on the door would have sufficed to wake a village.

“Alright, I’m awake… Hang on…” Amy turned on a small desk lamp and stumbled through the dimly lit room to its door. Little more light entered the room. “Where…” she nearly missed the small robot that had awoken her until he tapped her leg. “Oh… which one are you?” she squinted.

“That would be H1.” Metal Sonic stood just down the hall with arms folded neatly behind him.

Amy turned her attention to him groggily. “Why did you wake me…”

“You’ve been in there for 16 hours. I thought you might be dead.”

She blinked at him incredulously. “What time is it?”

“About noon, local. Would you join us on the main deck?”

“Why?”

He stood stoically, looking apathetic. “Aren’t you bored?”

“Are you?”

There was no response from Metal except a mechanical scoff, as if letting out steam. He turned back upstairs without another word. Amy grumbled something under her breath and took her time getting ready with whatever she could find in the room. When she emerged, H1 was still standing guard in front of her door, staring up at her blankly. She stepped around him awkwardly, his gaze following her as she went. Okay, less cute...

The midday sun left Amy squinting on the upper deck. She found Metal Sonic standing nobly right at the bow, watching the seas ahead. Might as well…

Amy came up next to him, mimicking his stately pose. “I had to sleep in this dumb outfit, you know.”

“You really must stop being so irritating when I cannot properly roll my eyes at you.”

“Pft-” Amy tried to hide a snicker. This amused Metal. “So… No clue how far this treasure is, huh? I wonder how long it’ll take.”

“I estimate no more than 12 days; That is how long it takes to navigate to the border of this sea at our velocity.” He glanced down to find a grouchy look on her face. “But… may be quicker.” Unless it’s in a different sea entirely , he kept to himself.

“Great,” she sighed. “So, what do you plan to do for up to 12 days?”

“Hm…” Metal brought his thumb and forefinger to his chin. “... we could spar.”

She whipped her head around to face him. “Again with the swords? What’s with you?”

He shrugged “I learned about the art while researching pirates. I believe I’ve mastered it but I would like to try with a worthy opponent.”

Now it was flattery. He really was impossible to understand. “Well thanks, but I don’t know the first thing about sword fighting- and it sounds like you don’t, either.”

“I assure you, I know plenty ,” he challenged, looking directly at her.

“You can’t learn how to fight by reading about it,” she scoffed.

“Well, perhaps you can’t…”

She raised a brow. “You know, you’re really gonna have to get used to ‘organic’ limitations soon. Unless that’s not really what you want…”

Metal could see that the girl was still doubtful about his intentions. She was unexpectedly clever- he supposed exploiting her kindness would only go so far. Perhaps he should try to limit himself for the time being. “You misunderstand. I am capable of mimicking movements as part of my programming. I don’t usually use weapons and simply wanted the ability to defend myself once I gave up this body.”

“Right…” If it was a lie, it wasn’t a bad one. Maybe he really was bored. “So is there a way you could teach me without all the sharp bits? Something tells me only one of us would get injured, and I’m no mechanic.” A sly smile found its way onto her face.

Now that was an amusing reaction, he thought, if only because she was so quick on her feet. A low snicker radiated from Metal as he beckoned her away. “We shall use the prop swords… for now.”

The pair soon took to the main deck with its wide-open space. Amy did what she could to tie the ridiculous skirt up at her waist and out of the way. Then, Metal Sonic tossed her a cutlass which held a surprising amount of weight when caught. It looked just like a real sword.

“Uh, are you sure these are props?”

“They are real antique swords, but they have been dulled. I assure you they won’t break your skin… Unless I want them to.”

It was hard to tell if he was joking. Ignoring it, Amy jumped out, holding the sword ahead of her with her feet spread. “Well, this doesn’t seem so hard.”

“That is because your stance is appalling.” Metal came up next to her, demonstrating the “proper” way, his pose looking much the same as hers. Her confusion was evident as he described the stance. “Keep your back foot out at a 90-degree angle… sword arm bent at 45 degrees… your feet really should be 91 centimeters apart-”

“Okay, you need to stop throwing random numbers at me,” she pouted.

“Alright…” Metal dropped his sword. With his hands at his hips, he took another look at how she posed. Then he kicked her back foot into the right position.

“Hey! You could be a little more gentle, you know.”

“Very well,” Metal made an exasperated motion as he moved behind her. Amy tried to follow him with her eyes but he grabbed the top of her head and turned it away. “Look forward. Now…” He extended his reach around her, using his hand to lift her elbow slightly. She shuttered a bit at the cold touch. “Does it feel a bit heavier now?”

Amy cleared her throat. “Ah… Yeah, a little.”

“One more thing,” he grabbed her other arm by the bicep, pulling it back toward him forcefully. “Keep this behind you, unless you’d like to lose it.”

A slight gasp escaped her lips at the abrupt movement. She tried to remain unphased. “Okay… Now what?”

He pulled away and stepped to her side. “Try a lunge. Extend your sword.” Amy lifted her elbow, fully extending her sword arm forward. “Good. Now, push off with your back foot to lunge forward.” She did as instructed, jumping forward slightly. “Again- Keep your back foot at the correct angle this time.” Amy’s eyes rolled in her head as she tried the motion again, focusing on keeping her body aligned. “Better… Try it as one swift motion.”

Awkwardly, Amy pushed her sword hand ahead and propelled herself forward all at once, losing her footing slightly. “Ugh! Wait-” Taking a deep breath, she tried the move again. And again. And again. Metal patiently watched her determination as she became slightly better with each thrust. It was so amusing to see the sheer effort it took her. The 16th time was the charm, as she was able to lunge swiftly without losing her footing. “Ha! How was that?”

“... It was fine. Anyone can do it once, though,” he derided.

“Hmph. Let’s see how many more I can do, then.”

To his surprise, Metal didn’t seem to get bored with such basic practice. Her tenacity was enjoyable to experience and she took instruction well, even if she stumbled. Metal moved on to demonstrating how to parry and eventually had her practice the motions together. Around two hours into practice, he came up in front of her, pointing his sword. “Not bad. Why don’t you try to parry an actual lunge?”

“Actually, can we stop for now? I kinda haven’t eaten anything all day.” Amy stood naturally, holding the sword down in front of her with both hands. She went from threatening to sweet in a second.

“Oh- Yes,” he brought his sword down to his side. “Of course. And I should check that we are still on course.” She handed him her cutlass hilt-first but he refused it. “Try carrying it on you. I’m concerned you may forget it’s not as easy to summon as your usual weapon.”

“Pft- You’re concerned about me? That’s new,” she smirked.

“Do not confuse it with amity,” he said flippantly, walking off toward the helm. “You know where the galley is.”

“Whatever, weirdo…” Amy affixed the dulled sword to her waist by the side, undoing the ties that kept her skirt girded around her hips. How anyone got things done with such a cumbersome garment, Amy did not know. The choice of theme still didn’t make much sense to her.

-----

“That should do it,” Tails closed up a hatch on the ship’s engine. He gave the operator a thumbs-up and before anyone knew it, the loud humming and rattling indicated that it was once again fully operational. Some of the crew hung around, cheering, as one of the cameramen leaned in close to the boy.

“Color me impressed.” Rouge sat atop a stack of crates watching the operation. She now wore a much more official-looking fitted navy pantsuit and captain’s hat. “All fixed in under 24 hours! Any chance you’d like to become a permanent member of the crew?”

“Thanks, but I have my own crew,” Tails laughed.

She pouted with a slight sigh. “Suit yourself…” She hopped down from the stack of crates, floating her way up toward the stairs. “I’ll let the crew know we’ll be moving soon. Everyone here, back to your posts.” The cameraman scrambled to shift his focus and follow her up.

A few of the crewmates patted Tails on the back and congratulated him as they got ready to return to their posts. Tails made some small talk until they’d all filed out a few minutes later.

Knuckles stretched his arms and rolled his shoulders. “Finally, we can get a move on. Do you think we’ll catch up to Amy and Metal?”

Tails nodded. “It’ll take a couple of days, but yeah- this ship’s faster.”

“Amy’ll have to hang on ‘til then…” Knuckles held up the compass that Rouge had recovered- it was identical in size and shape to his except that it was gold rather than brass. The arrow pointed in the same direction, though the inscription on the back was different. “ The time has come to find me- it is my turn to bleed. -Scarlett .” The boys found it kind of creepy, but it seemed to serve the same function so it was good enough.

“ Attention all crew: the ship is now fully operational. We will be setting sail in 30 minutes. ” Rouge’s voice was heard over the intercom.

“That’s our cue- come on.”

-----

Back on Metal’s ship, Amy sat on the edge of her seat. She’d brought her lunch back up to the deck and got comfortable under the roof of the helm watching H3 and H4 work. The two little robots ran from task to task, tying various knots and doing whatever one does on an antique pirate ship, sometimes stacked on top of one another for height. Amy clapped in amusement any time they finished something, much to Metal Sonic’s annoyance.

Once they were done, the pair scrambled up the stairs to the helm and gave their master their signature salute. “Very good. That is all for now,” he told them. Rather than scurry off, H4 threw his arms in up, catching H3, who balanced on his brother’s hands with his own.

“Oooh!” Amy clapped and giggled at the silly display while Metal groaned. H4 tossed the other in the air and switched to a handstand himself as H3 landed, their soles connecting. Then H3 rolled into a ball and his brother spun him on the soles of his feet. Amy had burst into full-blown laughter. “Wow, you guys are talented!”

“That’s enough,” Metal interjected. He was authoritative but not harsh in his tone. His henchmen complied, both standing back up on their feet. They waved to Amy as they scuttled off to the lower decks.

“Those guys are fun- did you teach them that?” Amy wiped a tear from her eye as the laughter subsided.

“ No. They were programmed to entertain for some reason. It was not my doing.”

“Well, they’re pretty good at it.” Amy leaned back in her chair, taking a sip of iced tea she’d made to go with her meal. She fanned herself in the heat. “Hey, are they gonna do the same?”

Metal was examining his sharp fingers, having found a scratch in the chrome paint job. “The same what?”

“You know, the same wish. To be organic.”

“What- oh, no,” he shook his head. “They are not the same as me. Or should I say, I am not the same as them…”

“How so?”

Metal had to be careful with his words. “Well… their AI is very simple. They are trained in certain tasks and to look for the right reactions in others as they do so. They’re quite simple- no real ‘emotions’ to speak of.”

Amy placed down her glass. “But you have feelings?”

“They are… simulated. But yes, I suppose you could call them that.”

“Huh. And I thought you operated on blind rage alone,” she chuckled.

Turning to her, Metal leaned an elbow on the railing to his side. “More like… spite.”

“Ha- is that what you feel for Sonic?”

“You could say that.”

The surroundings grew quiet in the absence of Metal’s minions. There was little noise but the gentle swaying of the sea and perpetual whirring from his turbine. Amy closed her eyes and listened as the sails waved in the wind, leaning back so the breeze sailed through her hair to cool her down. The air moved across the soft locks that flowed from her quills. She gently swiped them away when they blew over her face, her sleeves billowing lightly. When her eyes opened, she found Metal staring at her rather intently.

He turned his head away, looking back toward the wide-open deck. “Shall we continue our lesson?”

It was strange, the way he looked at her. She could almost swear there was a yearning in his gaze. She began to seriously consider that he could be telling the truth about his intentions. “Sure, just give me a few.”

Amy hardly noticed how much time had passed during the impromptu “training.” She found that it was much more enjoyable than she anticipated; learning a new skill was fun and Metal Sonic was a surprisingly effective teacher. There probably wouldn’t be time to become proficient at it, but learning to wield a sword was probably at least more entertaining than lounging around the ship most of the day. Still, as daylight dwindled, she was exhausted from the constant exercise and was ready to break for the day. Metal Sonic, for his part, didn’t ever seem to slow down, and was now demonstrating how to perform some combos.All part of being a machine , she supposed.

“Hey, it’s fun watching you and all, but I’m really tired.” She stretched her arms up warily. “Can we stop?”

Metal stopped his demonstration and stood upright. “Hm- Yes, it has gotten late. Will you continue tomorrow?”

Why did he look so excited about teaching her the ropes? Amy wondered how he normally spent his time if he found this to be so entertaining. What else was she going to do out at sea? “... Yeah, sure. It’s fun.” Her smile was sincere this time.

“... Indeed. You don’t learn as slowly as I thought you would.”

“Gee, thanks,” she chortled. “I’m gonna freshen up.” Amy tied the practice sword around her waist and mocked a salute at Metal. She saw his shoulders rise momentarily as if to give her a single laugh. The scenario still felt strange, but Amy was remarkably calm- relaxed, even- as she returned to her temporary accommodation. It was dark by the time she felt ready to leave her room again. It was too early for bed and there was nothing to do, so she returned to the main deck with her lantern in hand.

It was empty. No henchmen, no Metal Sonic- just the swaying ocean and sound of her heeled boots against a hardwood deck. She wondered if she’d have experienced such tranquility while traveling with her friends. Tails’ boat was so much smaller and the three of them already felt like they crowded the space. She missed them. They must be so worried…

Unsure of what else to do, Amy laid down on the bare deck to stare into the dotted sky. It was cold and hard and a bit damp, but the stars overhead were so vibrant she swore she could almost reach out and touch them. She passed some time finding any constellations she could identify in the summer sky.

At the sound of a door creaking open, Amy turned her head toward the captain’s quarters. Metal Sonic stood in the doorway, catching her in his gaze. Only yesterday the sight would ignite Amy’s battle instincts; now she just remained still and silent. There was no reason to fight. It was odd.

Metal looked into her eyes for a minute until she turned her face back to stargazing. His heavy, metallic steps echoed across the empty deck as he approached her. He was otherwise quiet. Metal loomed over her for a moment before joining her, laying next to Amy on the wooden floor and wondering what was so fascinating about the night sky. The way it illuminated out at sea, far from the light pollution of Eggman’s airship and other hiding places, was unlike anything he had seen. He could see why she was so interested.

Amy started giggling after a minute. It was so absurd! They’d normally be trying to rip each other to pieces, but here they were stargazing together.

Metal turned to face her. “What is so amusing?”

“Nothing… Just that, this reminds me of before. Back when you couldn’t talk and I couldn’t fight- you’d kidnap me and we’d just sit there without a word.” The memories weren’t the most positive, but the idea was laughable now. She smiled.

“Ah- yes. Well, I can talk and you can certainly put up a fight now.”

“Yeah,” she giggled. “I had to become strong ‘cause… Well, I was looking for my own freedom, I guess. Like you.”

So she was really beginning to believe him after all. Metal thought that should have been an accomplishment, but his body failed to produce a positive response in his program. What should have translated into pride instead felt like... guilt? That was new. “Did it pay off?” he asked after some silence.

“Well, I got kidnapped again but other than that,” she shrugged playfully.

“Yes, that was… unideal.”

“I get it,” she sighed. “I probably wouldn’t have helped you otherwise. No offense.”

“That is understandable.” Metal turned his attention to the glittery sky, mapping the stars. He was never very interested in it, but he recognized all the common constellations- although they didn’t make sense to him. “Tell me, can you identify constellations?”

“Yeah, I know a few.” She pointed up toward a cluster of stars. “Like… Hercules. It’s pretty prominent this time of year, and it’s easy to recognize.”

“I am familiar with the legend, but this set of stars does not resemble a man…”

“Oh! You gotta, you know, connect the dots.”

His optics allowed him to do that automatically, placing lines between each of the stars in the correct order. The constellation resembled a square with a line coming from each corner, but not a mythical hero. “They are… just lines.”

“Hm… I guess that one’s pretty abstract. How about…” she moved her pointer finger across her vision. “Cygnus. It’s a swan.”

“I have seen swans. This does not look like one.”

“You gotta use your imagination a little!” She scooted closer to him, holding out both hands in front of his face. “See how it kinda looks like a cross when you connect the dots?”

“Yes...”

“Okay. So, the shortest side of the cross is the tail, and the opposite part is like a long neck.” Amy traced each of the stars as she addressed them. “So then, where they cross…”

“Hm… Wings?”

“Yeah!” She giggled. “See? Not so hard.”

It was not how Metal would have chosen to depict a swan. The dots and lines that made up Cygnus were only conceptual, after all. “Perhaps I’ll understand better once I accomplish my goal…”

“Maybe,” she sat up. “Don’t worry if you don’t, though- most of them are nonsense; It’s just for fun!”

That seemed even more pointless. He sat up as well. “I do not comprehend it.”

“You will,” Amy assured. “Things don’t always have to make sense, you know?”

He found some understanding in her words, although “sense” it did not necessarily make. It was amusing, though, he admitted to himself. “I suppose I will.”

They sat chatting a while, Amy trying to explain the meaning of various constellations, Metal doing his best to imagine the abstract figures she described. As clouds moved in and the sky became less visible, the topic moved on to Metal’s interest in pirates. He spoke at length about the life and history of Captain Scarlett and her elusive treasure.

“According to accounts, she used the mirror to become the ‘greatest pirate alive’ and gathered most of her riches during this time. Soon after, her wife, Beryl, became ill and was unable to travel- that is why there are so many letters between them. After Beryl’s death, Scarlett disappeared. It is not known what happened to her or her ship- she likely became shipwrecked and drowned.”

“That’s so sad,” Amy commented. Her eyes were slightly misty.

“Well, piracy had its hazards. Still does. I have a book-” Metal turned his head away, looking intent.

Amy tried to see what he was looking at. “What is it?”

“I hear thunder…” A few seconds later, Amy heard it, too, as a light drizzle began to fall upon the deck.

“Oh, I don’t want to get wet again-” she sprang up.

“To my quarters, then.” Amy sprinted to the safety of the double-doors while Metal followed behind slowly. He was listening for further thunder and determining wind speed. Going in after her, he called to his henchmen, who were sitting at his table playing cards. “H3, H4- Lower the sails. I need to steer.” They both clinked their claws against their heads and jumped past him to start the task.

“Is everything okay?” Amy shook a bit of rain from her hair.

“A minor storm. Stay here.”

Although she had seen many badniks in and around water, Amy worried the rain could affect him. “Will you be alright?” They were both a bit surprised at her question. There was an unexpected tenderness in her concern.

“Yes,” he responded softly. “I am built to withstand worse.”

Amy nodded and he closed the door behind him. It was just her and H1 in the room now. He sat at the table still, cards in hand, and turned up to look at her. She smiled awkwardly, remembering this was the one who was hanging around in front of her room all morning. He patted the chair next to him, inviting her to join.

“So… What are we playing?” He stared at her silently. “Oh, right- you don’t talk. Uh… Go Fish?” H1 gave her a quick, violent nod that made his joints squeak obnoxiously. “Okay, okay! I’ll set up.”

They got two rounds in, H1 pointing at the deck whenever Amy needed to “go fish.” He won the first set but she bested him in the second, and they were now playing to break the tie. The storm outside was intensifying, heavy rain pounding on wood and thunder growing louder.

Amy was studying her cards closely, trying to decide which pair to go for next, when H1 sprang up, making a bee-line for the double-doors and running out into the open deck. “Why did he-” She gasped as her chair slid back and several pieces of furniture were pushed to one side. It didn’t last long as the ship rolled the other way, causing her to crash back into the table with an “oof!” That was more than a bit worrisome. She listened as the thunder and rain grew louder, the ship continuing to sway. Then, a huge crack of thunder boomed in her ears, followed by the sound of splitting wood. Amy quickly made her way to the main deck to see what was happening, immediately being pelted by rain and seawater.

The lower yard perpendicular to the foremast was cracked and practically broken in half, being held together only by H4’s coiling grip. She saw H3 pulling ropes, weighing down that side of the lower foresail to reduce stress on the beam. Metal Sonic was barking orders from the quarter deck above. Amy ran up to the helm just as H1 propelled himself in the opposite direction, toward the bow. His one glowing eye blazed when he spotted her.

“What are you doing? I told you to stay inside!”

“Don’t you guys need help?” Amy held onto the railing as the motion caused her to slip and slide on the wet floor.

“H1 is hoisting the jib, there’s nothing more to do but steer. Get inside, now!” Just then a towering wave came up to their port side. He was sure Amy’s featherweight would be blown off-board if she left the helm now. “Argh! Come here-” Metal steered in the opposite direction, trying to ride it out without capsizing. As the boat rolled, Amy stumbled to his left side and he pulled her in, putting her between himself and the wheel. He held her by the waist with one arm while the other remained affixed to the steering device. “Don’t drown!” he barked.

“What-”

The wave swallowed the elevated deck, leaving Amy and Metal completely underwater momentarily. Metal’s heavy body remained unmoved while her feet were swept off. She’d have been washed away- or at least violently slammed into the railings and water-logged- if he hadn’t affixed his iron grip around her. As the water passed over, Amy sputtered, having swallowed a huge gulp. A whining set of beeps came from ahead of them.

H3 was pointing up frantically, indicating that the top corner of the sail had torn off the yard by the rope. The sail flailed wildly around him until he took hold with both hands again, stabilizing the bottom once again. If the sail ripped any further off the mast it would fold over and become worse than useless, sending the ship to one side with its imbalance. He would send one of his henchmen up if they weren’t already securing half the mast.

“Damn that torn sail,” Metal cursed under his breath.

Amy coughed into his chest in front of him. “Tell me how I can” cough “help!”

He took to his mind frantically, calculating out all the different scenarios in which they would survive if the vessel capsized. He wasn’t too worried about his crew; they could take a beating and were waterproof. But the girl… Whether he kept her by him or sent her away, she had little hope of survival if the ship went down. Their only hope was to hold on and reaffix the sail.

Reluctantly, he made the decision. “The sail needs to be mended. Steer.”

“No!” cough “I can fix it-”

Another wave was about to wash over them. “Shut up and take a breath this time!”

Amy was just able to take in some air before they were engulfed by saltwater for a second time. As it cleared, Metal glanced back at the torn sail. He could fly up and do what he could to reaffix it, but steering the ship and knowing when and where to turn was a lot harder than it looked. He was able to calculate the safest angle with which to navigate into the waves and keep the vessel balanced. Someone without any knowledge on the subject, however...

If she could get high enough, Amy wouldn’t have to worry about being washed off the vessel so long as he kept them upright. “Can you climb?” he asked her.

Pushing her wet hair out of her face, Amy answered. “Yeah!”

“Take that rope and climb up the mast- reaffix the sail by the eye. Here, use my sword to cut the rope. Do you understand?”

Amy nodded. There was determination in her eyes as she took his sword and booked it to the ratline.

“Hurry- Before another wave hits.”

She climbed, struggling against the wind as it vibrated the taut ladder. Water weighed down her long skirt as she went. Once at the top, another wave washed over the main deck, causing the vessel to roll once more. She held onto the ropes for dear life, unsure of how to get to the end of the adjoining yard. Amy turned her gaze in every direction frantically- how do people usually get up there? I could shimmy , the thought, but what do I hold onto?

Despite Metal’s ability, the ship was difficult to control without the proper sails. He felt uncharacteristically apprehensive watching Amy climb as he steered between waves, as if ready to lunge for her if she were to fall. Another wave was now threatening to roll the vessel from the starboard side, so he did his best to focus on steering.

Glancing down, Amy got an idea. She wrapped an arm through the tightly woven ropes and used her free hand to pull out the sword, then promptly sliced through the top of her skirt, revealing the black half-slip beneath it. It was easy to tear off from there and use as an impromptu support system. Amy tied the length of maroon fabric to the yard above her, leaving some room between it and the knot. She hoisted herself up and carefully made her way across the beam on her belly, twisting and dragging the fabric with her. Once she reached the tear, she said a prayer and dropped her body down onto the circle of hanging fabric, hoping it would act as a hammock to support her while she worked.

It wasn’t perfect, but it held. Amy couldn’t believe how high she was, supporting herself with only a bit of fabric on some creaky wood. She was able to do as Metal Sonic had instructed, hanging precariously from the beam and taking hold of it when she felt too much turbulence. Once she’d replaced the rope through the eye of the sail, it was just a matter of getting back down.

A melodic set of rings and tones came from below her. Amy smiled when she spotted H1 on the crow’s nest some feet down. He reached up, uncoiling his extendable arms to pick Amy up and lower her to him safely. “Oh thank goodness,” she threw her arms around the little robot and hugged him close. “I thought I was gonna die up there!”

The vessel was noticeably more stable now that the jib was functioning and the mainsail was secured. Amy heard a whistle and noticed Metal Sonic signaling for them to descend. Climbing down the ratline proved much faster for Amy without the deadweight around her waist, and she rushed back to the helm to see what else needed doing. H1 was already working to tie up the broken beam.

“How are we doing?” Adrenaline rushed through her as she asked.

Metal was taken aback by her excitement; She really seemed to have a knack for putting herself in danger. “Better…. Good work.” He noticed the change in her wardrobe then, but said nothing.

“Oh, it was easy,” she lied. “What else do we need?” They rolled again, listing starboard, and she grabbed onto his arm for balance.

He acted quickly in bringing her between him and the wheel again. “Nothing. We- I need to steer us around the storm.”

The proximity was slightly discomforting now. Amy flushed as she turned away from him to look toward the bow. But the constant motion didn’t allow her to leave his side just yet; They swayed backward while climbing another wave then leaned forward as the vessel crashed down over it. Amy couldn’t stifle a yell when the ship descended, Metal pulling her closer to him still. He wouldn’t admit how much alarm his body was producing as he saw the high chance of tipping forward. The ship’s boom was dunked under the waves momentarily until the entire vessel tipped back, balancing itself like a buoy.

Amy was shaking. Her heart was ready to leap out of her chest, sure she’d be unable to maintain her balance had it not been for Metal’s support. Any rosiness in her cheeks quickly vanished to stark white and she remained speechless in her panic. Metal looked down at her in front of him. He realized he was still clutching her to him, but didn’t ease his grip. He told himself it was in case another wave hit.

They continued to sail over the stormy waters, but it appeared after a few minutes that the worst was behind them. Metal loosened his hold around Amy as her heart rate leveled and her breathing went back to normal. The rain began lightening up, no longer showering the deck. It was a light drizzle by the time either of them found anything to say.

Amy inhaled. “That was… A lot.”

“Yes…” he turned his attention to his minions, who were securing the sail back to the mast. It had been repaired to the best of their abilities with as much rope as they could tie around it.

“So… This ship. It’s kinda falling apart.”

“That appears to be the case.”

There was an awkward silence between them. Amy was still sandwiched between Metal Sonic and the ship’s helm. Now that the shock had faded it was uncomfortable again. “I’m gonna… Step aside…”

“Of course-” Metal removed himself from behind her, taking some steps away to free her. “I did not expect you to do so well.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Amy rung out her locks. They were both soaked, but her clothes were heavy with all the water.

“You may change in my quarters- if you need to.”

“Got another fun outfit planned for me?” she mocked.

“Yes. Come,” he stepped down from the quarter deck toward the captain’s quarters.

Amy scoffed. “I was not being serious.”

Metal addressed the henchmen as he passed. “H1, H3, H4- you did well. We will complete repairs tomorrow.” They all saluted him, and as soon as he turned away, moved on to high-fiving each other noisily. The doors were held open to his room and Amy passed through.

Much of the space was in disarray. The chairs were in different corners of the room, half of them toppled over. The screen had collapsed and any books that lined the shelves had flown off and lay open or bent on the floor. Amy was worried what state her room could be in…

“Well, this is…”

“A mess,” Amy interrupted.

“That is a fair assessment.” Metal made his way to the far corner of the room, bringing the screen upright. “At least this is functional…” He pointed a hand to it, inviting Amy to use it.

Amy was weirded out again by his interest in her attire but was even more uncomfortable in the drenched outfit she had on. She made her way to change while Metal Sonic hung around the room, picking books up from the ground. He’d left her another period-accurate garment to dress up in. The sight of the long-sleeved white nightgown annoyed her at first, but she was glad she at least had something comfortable to sleep in.

When she stepped out from behind the screen, Amy made her way to pick up the floor mirror. It was cracked at the top from having toppled forward but was otherwise functional. She looked ethereal in the white gown, even if it was a little costumey.

“I hope it is to your liking,” Metal said as he approached her. “I understand you were uncomfortable resting in the other clothes.”

Amy had forgotten that the first thing she’d done that morning was to complain about the outfit to him. “I’m surprised you cared to remember.”

“I have ample memory storage; I do not forget.”

“But you still cared.” She smiled up at him.

“... I didn’t want to hear your whining.” Metal stepped away, continuing to tidy up his quarters from the whirlwind.

“Sure.” Amy pretended to study the dress in the mirror, actually watching Metal in its reflection. It was all so elaborate- the ship, the costumes, the sword fighting. What was the point of it all? “Hey, Metal… How come you’re so invested in this pirate act? It seems kinda…”

“Illogical?” He did not turn to look at her.

“I was gonna say inconvenient, but…”

“Hm.” He straightened up the last chair. “I suppose I just wanted something to control,” he shrugged. “It seemed on-theme.” It wasn’t a lie.

Amy had no idea what to expect but the answer still shocked her. It was becoming difficult to doubt him when she realized that she could relate. He really did have nothing to gain but his autonomy. “I understand,” she said simply.

Metal made to return to the deck, holding a door ajar. “Perhaps it will pay off for me, as well.”

“Yeah,” she smiled.

Amy gathered up her wet clothes to dry in her room. It was hard to tell how long she’d spent on deck chatting and then weathering the storm, but she was exhausted- and hungry. She was lucky everything in the kitchen was bolted down but felt less so when her suite was in complete disorder. For once, she didn’t care- simply plopping herself on the mess of sheets and pillows that she could gather atop the plush mattress.

-----

“I am… so sore.” Amy lay on her back directly on the cool wood of the quarter-deck, groaning. “Everything hurts. And it’s sooo hot...”

The ship swayed slightly on the calm water, as Metal turned the helm sharply. “I suppose that means you are too weak to train, then.” He watched the compass eagerly. They had been blown off course by the storm the night before and the arrow was constantly changing direction now.

Ignoring his little insult, Amy darted her eyes up at him. “Is that all you think about?”

“What else are we to do?” He made a frustrated, metallic ring as he turned the ship in the other direction. “How does this ridiculous thing work?”

“How should I know…” Amy yawned. “You seem too busy steering to train me, anyway.”

“H1 can take over once he’s finished with the sails. I suggest you get ready.”

Amy clicked her tongue at him, crossing her arms over her torso. She rolled her head to the side, watching the horizon pass them by.  “When you have muscles, you’ll see…” But he was right, there was nothing better to do. It made her think about what her friends might be doing then. Would they catch up to Metal’s ship? She dreaded confronting them at sea, having to convince them of Metal’s plan. Even if they were worried, Amy would rather deal with them after the fact, asking them for forgiveness rather than permission.

Metal stared down at Amy. For all the spying and research he had done on Sonic and his  friends, Metal was still astonished by her bravery and tenacity in the face of danger. Looking back on their early meeting, he always categorized her as a weak, defenseless being. Even as Amy had grown strong over the years, this was the first time Metal experienced her pluckiness on its own, unadulterated by the presence of her teammates. It impressed him more than he cared to admit.

The maneuver she’d pulled climbing up the mast had left Amy with a pretty noticeable wardrobe change, too. The short half-slip she wore under the layers of scarves at her waist allowed for her usual mobility; he was almost excited by the prospect of sparring with her now that she could move more freely. Her boots and stockings were in full view and the oversized frills of her blouse were more striking now. Metal had found the billowy ankle-length skirt fetching in its historical context, but now she looked...

“Couldn’t we do it at night when it’s not so hot?” she interrupted his thoughts.

“I am not looking forward to becoming as sensitive as you,” he quipped, getting his mind off Amy’s appearance. “But fine.”

The compass appeared to stabilize again. When he set off to research pirating, Metal failed to realize the amount of waiting involved on seafaring adventures and began to wish he’d commandeered a faster ship. But, at least the company was good.

It was more than Rouge could say for her guests. “Look, I appreciate your help fixing the ship and helping us navigate around that storm, but I’ve been hired to recover whatever’s on that island!”

She and Knuckles argued over the fate of “her” treasure for hours. “I’m telling you I just want one thing!” he asserted.

“And I’m telling you I can’t just hand you an artifact when our funding is on the line. There are legalities-”

“Since when do you care about what’s legal? This is more important than that!”

Rouge huffed, plopping into her desk chair with folded arms. “Maybe if you just told me why you’re after it I could talk to my patrons about-”

“No! No one can know what’s in there!”

“ Stop interrupting me! ” Rouge’s wings flared out behind her as she slammed her hands down on the desk. The two glared at each other, neither relenting until a knock came at her chamber door.

Tails pushed it ajar with sheepish caution. “Uh… Am I interrupting?”

“... You’re fine,” Rouge sighed in exasperation. “Sit.” She rubbed at her temples, taking a breath. “I just want to know what we’re after so I can help. Can one of you please explain what the fuss is about?”

“Come on,” Tails nudged Knuckles. “We’re on the same side…”

Knuckles groaned under his breath. “Fine.” Rouge leaned in to listen, resting her wary head in her hand as he continued. “We’re after a Knuckles Tribe artifact known as the Stone Mirror…” He explained some of its history and how they knew that it was buried among Scarlett’s treasure.

She waited until he was done, and then slid her chair back, pulling a large scroll from the top drawer of her desk. “I’d like to show you something.” Unrolling it revealed a copy of the same map they’d used to navigate, stitched-together from a set of letters written by Scarlett. “These letters were addressed to Beryl over the course of several months- she and Scarlett were married. It seemed Scarlett wasn’t too eager to reveal the location of her stronghold, even to her wife. Some say she sailed there alone after, well…” Pointing to one of the letters at the bottom, Rouge read some of its contents aloud.

“ I am sorry for how my selfish desire has destroyed our happiness. You slit your palm and gave your very blood for me, and in my deception we were cursed. It was the mirror that took your health, and my guilty action that will take you if we do not act. These riches were meant to be your assurance in case of my demise; Instead, I must seal away all that I have earned in the hopes of saving you. There is no time to waste coming for you- Please find me.  Love, Scarlett. ”

She set down the scroll. “Earlier in it she writes about meeting some mystic that gave her information about a mysterious mirror and its curse. Something about lying toBeryl?”

“So she mentions it…” Knuckles pondered. “Legend states you need a blood sacrifice from someone else who’s ‘willing and knowledgeable about your intentions.’ Basically you lie and the other person gets cursed. Guess she found out a little too late.”

Rouge sat back in her chair, staring down at the collection of letters. “It’s well recorded that Scarlett recounted making some wish to become a great pirate. Historians just attribute it as a tall tale. Shame about Beryl, though,” she sighed. “In any case- this ‘Stone Mirror’ sounds dangerous.”

Knuckles nodded. “I don’t know how he found out, but I’m assuming it’s what Metal Sonic’s after.”

“... Okay. We’ll create a diversion to snatch up the mirror before the cameras can record it. But we’ll have to beat Metal Sonic there.”

The three of them nodded in agreement- Knuckles promising to find a way to destroy the dangerous artifact. And if they ran into their unexpected enemy at sea, there would be no choice but to subdue Metal Sonic before he could get his hands on it.

-----

Three days went by and there was still no sign of this mystical secret island, orany land for that matter. Actual pirates may have had work to do, but Metal Sonic’s three henchmen seemed to do the all work of a full crew in a quarter of the time. It left Amy and Metal with very little to do other than practice their swordsmanship and chat late into the night.

Amy picked up swordplay like it was second nature. It helped that there was little more to do, but she’d never had issues with swinging a weapon around. After a fourth day of practicing she was getting the hang of perrying against Metal Sonic and was serving combos that would give any other beginner a run for their money. Though she complained of sore muscles and exhaustion constantly, Amy fought against it nevertheless, advancing far quicker than either of them anticipated. Metal was forced to admit that he found it admirable- though he didn’t express it out loud.

Metal, for his part, found himself appreciating Amy’s companionship. Her witty nature complimented Metal’s droll quips, and she found it funny that he put so much effort into his tough pirate charade. He didn’t have anything to counter with when they’d shot back petty insults at one another and she’d finally burst into laughter, remarking on how insistent he was on appearing superior. Metal supposed she had a point, getting his own chuckle out of it. Amy continuously commented on how he would feel differently when his body was organic as if to test him. Of course, Metal played along, but each time he did, there was a nagging twitch in his mind.

The guilt Metal felt over manipulating Amy was beginning to weigh. For years, he’d waited for this kind of opportunity to get the upper hand on Sonic, to become something that not even his rival could imagine. Metal wasn’t sure what form he would ultimately take when he finally got hold of the Stone Mirror, but it was so far from the average organic being that Amy imagined for him. “I wonder what color your eyes will be,” she had mused aloud during an evening conversation- what a wholesome thought compared to Metal’s. He said that he hoped they’d be green like hers and got a laugh over her flustered babbling.

Out of all the things that could go wrong with his plan, feeling remorse was not something he prepared for. It’s not as if he’d ever felt guilty for acting in his own interest in the past, but Metal realized that he’d never worked with someone on a team as an equal, either. There was a sense of kinship between them that grew from fighting against the harrowing storm; They both quickly became comfortable in the other’s presence, as if having been friends for years. That was a first for Metal.

But he couldn’t let all his plotting and past failures go to waste. Metal wasn’t about to let one of his former enemies sway his plans. Amy was nice to have around but there would be others; this was the only time he’d get this opportunity.

But I may as well enjoy myself, he thought. After four days at sea spending most of Amy’s waking moments together, Metal had grown to enjoy their time together; It was a shame it wouldn’t last.

On day five, they met in his quarters while Metal dug around for another sharpened sword. He tossed props aside from a closet as he searched.

Amy stood at the shelf on the opposite end of the room, perusing through a book. “What are you looking for?”

“A sharpened sword,” he answered plainly.

“You have a sword… And claws...”

“It’s not for me- Ah, here we are.” Metal turned back to her, a sheathed sword in one hand and a long, red garment draped over the other. “H3 does find the strangest places to store things…”

Putting the book down, she spun to him curiously. “What’s that?”

“I missed seeing you in red,” he said in the most pompous tone he could manage, holding it out to her.

She took it with a smirk. “Another skirt?” Amy unrolled the garment, revealing a long, notched jacket with gold piping that framed it intricately.

“No, something more fitting this time.”

She threw it over herself excitedly. Belting the jacket at the waist, Amy smiled at her reflection. “Oh, it’s pretty. And way more functional,” she giggled, turning her friendly countenance to him. “Thanks.”

“I thought you would feel that way.” Metal unsheathed the sword and handed that to her as well. “Now we can really spar.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Seems kinda dangerous…”

“Hmph- I doubt you’ll land a hit,” Metal replied confidently. “And rest assured I will stop before the blade touches you.” He pointed the weapon at her theatrically.

Amy rolled her eyes. “It’s lunchtime- I’m taking a break.” She snatched the weapon from him, hanging it gingerly around her waist and making her way down to the kitchen. She was surprised to see Metal Sonic tagging along behind her. “You hungry?” she smirked.

“Something like that…”

She snickered a bit, not sure what to make of the comment but finding his presence enjoyable nonetheless. Amy got to work preparing her lunch while he observed her from across a high table, his cutlass drawn up to his eyes so he could look past it at her dramatically. She glanced at him with a scoff. “Making sure it’s sharp enough?”

“I can assure you, it is.”

Amy stuck out her tongue at him, sitting down on a tall stool to eat her lunch. “You are just as cocky as Sonic…”

Even if that was true, her comment irritated Metal. He sauntered around the table to her side, the sharp point of his weapon aimed at her. She didn’t appear phased. “I doubt that Sonic knows much about swordsmanship.”

“He’s apparently pretty skilled at it, actually,” Amy said, taking another bite.

“Seriously?”

With her mouth full, Amy shrugged. Metal lowered his sword, pacing around to her other side and looming over her shoulder. She continued to ignore his taunts as she ate. “I’m gonna grab some water…” Amy stood, continuing to watch him out of the corner of her eye. Turning back, she heard him speak again.

“En garde,” he announced with a lunge. The tip of his sword stopped just shy of her chest.

Glancing down at his weapon, Amy returned with a sweet smile. “Aw, how am I supposed to take you seriously if you won’t follow through?” She looked back up at him with doe eyes.

Metal met her soft gaze, locking his vision on her endearing face. “Well, would you like me to-”

Before he could finish, Amy had drawn her sword and gone for a parry, knocking his blade to the side. Then she lunged, closing the distance between them and bringing her weapon over his head. He swung his sword back up, blocking the hit. “Hmph! You’re just as impatient as Sonic, too,” Amy smirked.

“Argh!” Metal pushed her sword off and away from him, brandishing his in a ready position. “Will you continue to compare me to that imposter when I am organic?”

Amy held the same pose, teasing by twirling her weapon around in circles. “Depends. Are you gonna keep letting your life revolve around him?”

“Hm- How else would you and I get to spend time together?” Metal lunged, backing Amy against some kitchen equipment until she countered his attack with her own swing. She ducked underneath his next attack and backed away.

“You wanna hang out that bad?” she giggled. “Maybe just ask me out to coffee.”

“Oh,” Metal approached her slowly, his sword still drawn high. “What are those called again?”

“What are what called, weirdo?”

“Let me see…” As he continued his approach, Amy backed out through the kitchen door and into the narrow hallway. “Oh, a date ?”

Caught off guard, Amy lowered her weapon momentarily. He did the same as he neared her, their eyes locked. “Th-That’s not really-” His sword was upon her again a second later. She dodged, not having time to counter the sudden attack.Should’ve expected that, she thought, planning her next move.

But there was little time to think as Metal lunged toward her again, swinging from every direction as she struggled to block with her sword. They continued down the hall, clinking and striking their weapons together. Amy was just managing to remain defensive; he wouldn’t give her an opening.

Finally, Amy got in a parry after ducking from one of his swings and rolling behind him. When Metal turned back around, he narrowly avoided a swing that passed just under his chin. He sprung back. Out of striking distance, they both stared at each other, Metal holding his weapon down by his side. He was surprised that he didn’t feel the need to hold back more, feeling somewhat proud of Amy’s progress. But he wouldn’t let her know any of that.

“Ready to give up?” she teased.

He drew up the cutlass again, taking a step closer. “How easy could I possibly make it for you?”

Rather than fall back, Amy took his challenge and moved in his direction. “I don’t know… Looks like you’re having a pretty hard time to me,” she sneered. She was having more fun than she expected.

“I could say the same!” He rushed her then, Amy countering the next few swings.

Suddenly, they were each backed close to a wall as they stood in tandem in the narrow hallway, Metal just in front of a set of doors. As he swung again, she dove under his attack and through the double-doors. When the room came into full view, Amy looked on in awe. It was a grand ballroom, elegantly decorated in white and champagne- presumably for the wedding that was meant to be held there. Metal nearly landed a hit on her while she was distracted, but Amy seemed to be a master at dodging his lunges.

“Don’t get too distracted,” he taunted her.

“Hmph!”

Locked in battle, they continued moving down the length of the ballroom, circling around the winding rows of banquet tables and chairs. Metal was coming at Amy in full force, giving her little opportunity to counter. He could see her growing more tired now, her heart rate increasing exponentially as her breathing became more shallow. Taking advantage of this, Metal increased his speed and continued his swings, varying the direction so she couldn’t duck behind him again. They fought their way to the front of the room where the space was more open. Footsteps clicked as they stepped across the hard dancefloor that spanned from wall to wall at the front of the ballroom. Soon, Metal had completely backed Amy into a wall as she panted.

Amy realized that she was, perhaps, a bit too confident. Even if she were to get to a point where her skills surpassed his, Metal Sonic couldn’t tire in battle as fast as she would. She had to find a different advantage.

When she tried to perform an unexpected lunge, his sword made contact with her own so harshly that she lost her grip. It clanged to the ground next to her. Metal used his forearm to pin Amy to the wall by her chest.

She let out a grunt as she clashed with the wall behind her. Panting, Amy glared up at him in exasperation. “Are you satisfied now?”

“I am… impressed.” Metal cocked his head to one side, observing as her chest heaved under his grip. “But I knew you wouldn’t best me so easily.”

“Really? I thought you had more confidence in your teaching skills. I know I’m a great coach...”

Metal stared on at her curiously. “Is that so? And what do you teach?”

Amy gestured to the floor with her eyes. “I taught Sonic how to tango pretty well-” She was cut off as he pressed his forearm against her more firmly.

“Hmph- if you think that will distract me-”

“Hey,” Amy’s face softened into a smile as she interrupted him. She reached a hand up, taking hold of Metal’s lapel. He glanced down at the gesture in confusion. “You wanna know how else you’re like Sonic?”

“... Do tell.”

“C’mere.” Amy held an almost saccharine expression as she gently tugged his collar toward her.

She hardly had to pull as Metal allowed himself to be drawn into her. It may have been a ruse- he was fairly confident in that- but he was greatly interested in what she had to say as she lifted her chin to speak into his ear. Metal remained vigilant as Amy continued.

“You’re really cute,” she whispered.

Staggering back, Metal fixed her eyes with his. She twinkled back at him. “What do you-”

A sharp blow to the side of his head sent Metal off from atop Amy and to the ground. He lost command of his sword just as her enormous hammer came into his peripheral view. Of course - the thought ran across his mind as Metal landed on his side noisily. Amy sprinted to snatch his sword from off the ground as he readied to come back on his feet- but her boot heel was upon his chest before he got any further than facing her. Metal’s heavy body banged on the hard dancefloor as she pushed him down under her foot. Amy stood over him with his own sword pointed just under Metal’s chin. She was grinning from ear to ear as she watched his broken eye illuminate for a moment.

Metal would have been furious if she’d looked malicious, but her sparkling grin was so… cheery. “It’s cute that you think you can beat me so easily!” Amy laughed with genuine amusement as she removed her boot from his body.

His left eye now flickering again, Metal could only manage to glare for a second until he found himself chuckling as well. “That was most certainly cheating…”

“Didn’t know you had such strict rules.” Beaming, Amy allowed the hammer to disappear from her grasp and offered Metal a hand up. The lights in his left eye sputtered out again as he stood. “Hey, I almost fixed your eye! Maybe another wack will do it,” she smiled.

“Somehow I doubt that.” He hadn’t let go of her hand, instead using it to jerk her toward him. “But perhaps you could show me your little dance now?”

“Ah… I don’t know if you’d really enjoy it.” Amy offered Metal his sword, holding it between them.

He took it from her gently and slid it down by his side. “Won’t you indulge me?”

Her cheeks flushed lightly. Amy had just said it to distract him; she could teach, but she suddenly felt flustered in such close proximity. “Well… Maybe-”

The room shook then. Metal kept Amy from losing her footing as the ship rolled unexpectedly. They gave each other a look of concern.

“Is it another storm?” Amy asked.

Metal shook his head. “No- come to the deck, don’t forget your sword.”

He was floating out the door before Amy could find the words to respond. She followed him, picking up the weapon she’d dropped to sprint down the hall and up the long staircases.

“Surrender Amy Rose and the artifacts at once!” Rouge was flying above her deck speaking into her  megaphone with Knuckles, Tails, and her crew on deck below. Her ship floated across from Metal Sonic’s as cameramen focused on both of the captains.

Metal stood nonchalantly with his arms crossed behind, amplifying his voice to speak. “I can assure you she is under no duress.”

Knuckles had managed to snag a megaphone of his own and was now putting the full force of his voice into it. “Then where is she?!”

Metal squinted at the rumbling noise, his receptors vibrating uncomfortably. “Argh- You do not need to yell into that, I can hear you just fine.”

“Tell us where she is now!” Knuckles was getting ready to threaten him as Amy busted through to the deck. The three henchmen burst through just behind her.

When she spotted her friends, Amy’s face lit up and she ran to the ship’s railing. Metal remained in his stately pose behind her in an attempt to indicate that there was no threat. “Guys!” Amy waved, “I’m okay!”

Leaning close to the rails, Knuckles yelled into his megaphone again. “We can’t hear you-”

“Knuckles, that’s enough! I can hear her just fine so shut up,” Rouge snapped down at him. He crossed his arms irritably, grumbling. “Amy,” she continued, “we’re here to rescue you; are you hurt?”

Waving her hands in front of her, Amy answered as loud as she could. “Rouge, I’m fine! Are you guys okay?”

“Us?” she looked puzzled, “You were the one who was kidnapped...”

“It’s okay, I’m, uh…” she turned to beckon Metal, who looked almost bored at the turn of events. He approached her slowly, keeping an eye on the others. Once he was within reach, Amy clung to his arm in a friendly gesture as his expression became nonplused. “I’m helping Metal! Let’s team up!”

He whipped around to her with reproach. “That is not part of the plan!”

“Plans can change,” she responded in a low voice before addressing Rouge again. “Let us aboard and I’ll explain!”

Completely perplexed, Rouge didn’t know how to respond. Knuckles was shouting at her to repeat what Amy was saying and Tails began to call out to her as well. “Don’t move,” Rouge directed a command at Metal with a glare before floating down to the others. “What do you two want?!”

Tails pushed Knuckles aside in order to get a word in. “We’ve detected an island 30 naughtical miles from here in the direction of the compass- there’s no other land within range. It has to be the place. We can be there in the next couple of hours. We need to get Amy back ASAP.”

“We’re that close?” Rouge glanced back across the way to the other ship, where Amy and Metal appeared to be… arguing? Their tones were too hushed to decipher the speech, but neither was fighting the other. Though they both waved their hands around in apparent annoyance, Amy held him close to her without any resistance. Rouge didn’t know what to make of it. “She said… she’s helping him.”

“Helping Metal Sonic?” Tails looked just as confused now.

Knuckles butted back in, shoving Tails aside. “She said that? What’s his game?”

“How should I know?” Rouge brought her hands to her hips in frustration. “She said she wants to come aboard to explain.”

“That sounds like a trap!”

Rouge nodded in agreement. “But it’s the only way to get her back peacefully. We’ll just have to be ready for him.”

The boys each nodded in reluctant agreement. Rouge took a breath and quietly signaled her crew to be on alert. Approaching the side of her ship, she called out to the others. “You may board. We will extend the bridge.”

Amy and Metal paused their arguing to come to her attention. “Don’t you-” he started before Amy interrupted him.

“No need, we’ll fly over!” She faced him. “Come on, let’s go.” He glared at her with resentment, worried he’d just be ambushed and forced to engage, putting his plan in jeopardy. Amy tightened her grip on his arm and lowered her voice. “I’ll hold on to you so they don’t attack.”

His glare softened. That should work , he thought with some remorse. He wished he could feel more positively about tricking Amy so well she was willing to risk her safety for him. When Metal nodded, she climbed into his arms readily. She really held no doubt in him.

“You three,” he told his henchmen, “... be on alert.” H1 shot forward, standing on the ship’s railing and pointing ahead. “... Yes, I suppose I should bring one of you. Move.” Metal could the others’ clinking salutes as he and H1 lifted off, Metal flying over the sea carefully with Amy. A cameraman on a lower deck followed their path while another stood near Rouge, recording their landing. The little minion stood readily by Metal’s feet as the crew took steps towards them, encircling them steadily. Metal gazed around at them but did not move.

Knuckles came the closest. “It’s time to drop her,” he demanded.

“Very well.” Metal lowered Amy to her feet and she quickly wrapped herself around his arm, taking a step in front of him.

“I’m okay, Knuckles. I’m gonna hang onto Metal for now, okay?”

“Why? What is this?” Knuckles was shouting again, continuing his approach. “Did you do something to her brain?”

Metal scoffed, standing his ground. “What exactly do you think I could do?” A camera came up close to the side of his face while a mic loomed above. He turned his head sharply, his single blazing eye catching the crewmember off guard. “Is there something I can help you with?” The cameraman scrambled back, making himself scarce.

“Metal, just ignore it,” Amy tugged on him while his eye rolled around his screen.

“Alright,” Rouge’s assertive voice cut through the crowd that was quickly forming in front of them. “Everyone back off, you’ll hear my signal if I need you. That goes for you, too, Knucklehead. Move!” As her crew dispersed and the cameras backed to a safe distance, Rouge stood some feet in front of them. “So you made friends with Metal Sonic? I’d find it cute if I wasn’t still bruised from his last attack.”

Amy chuckled awkwardly back at her. “Yeah, well… you look great in your new uniform.”

“Hmph.” Rouge cracked a smile as she saw Amy there, protecting her unlikely friend from attack. It was almost sweet. “Well I’m relieved you don’t look too bad yourself. Cute jacket.”

“Thanks, uh… Metal picked it out,” Amy smiled.

“Really?” Rouge turned her attention to him. “Charming. Now what is it you want?”

When he didn’t respond after a few seconds, Amy cut in. “Metal has a… request. For the Stone Mirror.”

“What?!” Knuckles came booming back, stomping his feet.

Rouge held her arm out in front of him with a brief glare, then continued. “We’ll talk in my quarters. No cameras. Come on,” she turned on her heel and beckoned for only Amy and her “friends” to join her. They all followed behind Rouge awkwardly as the crew murmured around them, cameras following their every move.

Rouge locked the door behind them once they were in the privacy of her office. Then she faced Amy and scolded her. “You cannot go around mentioning magical artifacts in front of the crew. Why do you think you were all after it in the first place?”

Amy shrunk back, still clinging to a silent Metal Sonic. “Sorry… You’re right…”

Rouge sighed with exasperation, sinking into her chair. “Will you all sit?! You’re making me anxious.” As everyone complied, Knuckles most reluctantly, Rouge addressed Metal Sonic with some sarcasm. “I would love to hear what you have in mind for the mirror.”

After some seconds of silence, Amy nudged him. H1 climbed up the chair legs to sit in his lap, staring up at him. Metal shot them each an irritated look before starting. “I would like to use the Stone Mirror to become… organic.” He’d lied to Amy so easily, but was almost embarrassed to show such vulnerability with the rest of his enemies.

“Organic?” Rouge massaged her temple. “I don’t even know what to say to that. And Amy, you believe this?”

“Doesn’t matter if she believes it or not,” Knuckles butted in, “there’s no way Metal Sonic’s getting his hands on the mirror!”

Rouge nodded. “Unfortunately, I’m inclined to agree.”

Amy ignored Knuckles and spoke to her instead. “For the record, I do believe him. And I think it’s a good reason to use the mirror.”

Rouge shushed Knuckles before he could start again. “Amy… There’s something you should see.” She opened the top drawer of her desk and retrieved the same copy of the map she’d shown Tails and Knuckles. “I’m sure you know about Scarlett’s treasure and her letters to her wife, Beryl.” Metal’s piercing glare was already scanning through the text in the letters as Amy nodded. Rouge explained the entirety of the Stone Mirror’s curse, blood sacrifice and all, as Amy listened in shock.

“Amy,” Rouge’s tone softened. “This is a big risk for you…”

“Look, this thing cursed Beryl because of her wife’s dishonesty.” Knuckles got up angrily, pointing a finger at Metal Sonic. “Are you really willing to risk that for him ?”

“ Oh, ” Amy lowered her eyes in thought, her grip on Metal’s arm loosening slightly.

“The only way to lift the curse was for her to give her own blood and leave everything she’d gained behind; Hence why she sent for Beryl to meet back with her on the island. She tragically passed before making it off the ship.” Rouge stood from her desk and circled around to the front, facing Amy and folding her arms. “And I’m sorry to say I don’t trust Metal Sonic as far as I can throw him.”

The new information shouldn’t have changed Metal’s plan. He was willing to do anything for an advantage against his nemesis- or so he thought. But now, spending a few days with one of his enemies was enough to sway him? He supposed he could get The Doctor to sacrifice for him- he would revel in the opportunity to take Sonic down... No, he thought, I can’t let her get in my way. It wasn’t as if she’d be safe from him when he finally transformed into whatever monster he could conjure. And yet…

“If I may,” he spoke finally, placing his claws softly over Amy’s hand as it held his forearm. “Your blood will not be necessary. Someone else can take the burden.” He turned to Rouge. “I am only asking for use of the artifact to fulfill my wish.”

“Fat chance,” Knuckles interjected. “I still don’t believe you’re telling the truth- no way I’m letting you turn into a monster again. No deal.”

“Knuckles…” Rouge strode over to him. “Can I have a word, privately?”

He raised a brow at her but agreed. “... Fine. Tails, keep an eye on Metal Sonic.”

“Sure?” the boy looked at his enemy, sitting calmly with one of his best friends at his side. He hardly looked threatening.

As they stepped out, Amy faced Metal again. “Who’s gonna help you if I don’t?”

“... I believe The Doctor will be willing.”

Tails looked at them skeptically. “Eggman knows you wanna do this?”

“No,” Metal replied, once again carefully curating his words so they did not sound suspicious- or make him feel any worse. “He has few details of my plan. I am not sure how he tracked us a few days ago, but I do not believe he will deny me. I wanted to complete the task independently, but I will do what I must.”

“Well I’ll help you if he won’t,” Amy assured.

“Amy, you’ll die if he’s lying,” Tails shot back.

She scoffed as if it didn’t matter. “We’ll all die if he’s lying.”

“How is that better?! How can you be sure he’s telling the truth?”

Amy paused. She felt his steely fingers on her and focused her ears on his gently whirring engine. H1 looked at her from Metal’s lap expectantly. It wasn’t clear to her just why she’d grown to trust him so quickly, but she knew in her heart he would do the right thing. “Because he wants someone to kick his butt at sword fighting,” she smiled. “I’ve gotten pretty good at it the past few days, you know.”

Metal could no longer look at her. He removed his hand from atop hers and sat silently, trying not to let the guilt overcome him.

Tails’ face contorted. “What are you even talking about?”

The door cracked open then, Rouge stepping back inside. She addressed Metal Sonic directly. “We will allow you use of the Stone Mirror,” she began. “Knuckles will take it immediately after. No one on my crew is to know about it- we’re after the treasure only. We expect to come up on the island in the next hour, so get back to your ship and wait for a tow.”

“That soon?” Metal asked.

“Yes. You are not to step foot on land in order to avoid suspicion. We’ll recover the artifacts.”

“... Very well. Let us return, then.” He removed H1 from his lap and rose, Amy’s fingers slipping away from him.

“Amy’s staying with us,” Knuckles called from the door.

Amy’s cheeks puffed indignantly. “ Amy’s going where she wants. I’m staying with Metal.” She stood and pushed Knuckles out of her way, taking her leave.

Metal thanked Rouge and went past the others without a second glance, his lackey scurrying behind. There was no doubt they were plotting something against him, and Metal was determined to make it onto that island and get his hands on the mirror himself- by force if necessary. He would do anything. Almost anything .

The second Amy and Metal stepped out, a set of cameras once again bombarded them. It assured they went away and off the ship quickly so Metal Sonic couldn’t hear what was being discussed in Rouge’s quarters without them.

Inside, Tails got up from his seat. “Are we really just gonna let Metal Sonic use the mirror?”

“Absolutely not,” Knuckles shot back.

“But Amy doesn’t need to know that yet.” Rouge leaned back on the front of her desk pensively. “We’re getting ahead of him so he can’t threaten us with whatever he wants to do with the mirror. No doubt Metal Sonic will get... forceful.”

“Stubborn girl,” Knuckles grumbled. “It’d be easier to keep her safe if she’d stayed here…”

“Arguing with her would blow our cover; and she can take care of herself. Let’s just be ready for whatever he throws at us.”

Tails’ ears drooped slightly. “I wish Sonic could help us, he’d make quick work of Metal…”

“Who needs him?” Knuckles puffed his chest out confidently. “I’m bored of watching them fight anyway!”

-----

Metal and Amy stood at the bow of his great ship, the breeze blowing through Amy’s hair gently. She leaned forward, looking into the horizon, waiting to spot land. They were moving a little faster now as Rouge’s vessel towed them across the sea. Metal stood next to her watching the compass intently. They continued on the right path. It was minutes away now.

Suddenly the hidden inscription on the back made a lot more sense. He shone a pale violet light over it and read- The Mirror’s bloodlust was nothing to me, for I’d have bled myself dry for you. It didn’t just seem like useless theatrics, but the caring words of someone willing to sacrifice for another. What Metal didn’t understand, however, was how Amy was so ready and willing to do the same for him. Worse than deceptive, it felt undeserved.

Spotting his intense concentration on the compass, Amy spoke up. “Crazy how Beryl gave everything to Scarlett like that, huh?”

Metal did his best to shake his head clear of the guilt. “Yes. I suppose she cared for her.”

“That’s an understatement,” Amy chuckled.

“Is it? Then... what is it you feel that makes you so willing to do the same for me?”

Amy swiveled over to look at him directly. He stared down at the compass, not meeting her gaze. “I guess I think it’ll be good for us both.”

“How can you be so sure? Are you convinced I will immediately betray The Doctor and join your team?”

“I guess not…” Amy frowned at the thought. She knew it was an unrealistic expectation, though she remained hopeful he would change for the better somehow. “But I think we should all be free to make our own choices. Maybe you’ll make some good ones.”

“I am not so sure…”

There was a drawn-out sigh as she leaned her back in contemplation. Amy couldn’t help but see the good in people, and when she looked at Metal now, she saw more than a lifeless machine. There was passion in his voice and enthusiasm in his demeanor whenever they indulged in his interests. There was a small sparkle in his eye when they spoke. She had seen him joyful, and concentrated, and playful, where all she would have previously associated him with was rage. But more than that, Amy felt a connection, like perhaps this was something they were meant to do together. How else could they have become such fast friends? Friends, she smiled at the thought. It filled her with optimism. She rolled her head back on her shoulder to look to him again, their eyes locking this time. He’d been staring- it wasn’t the first time she noticed, but he didn’t dart his eyes away this time.

Softening her eyes, Amy looked at him dreamily in the late afternoon light. “I think you’ll do what’s right for you. That’s enough for me.”

Seeing that honeyed expression and hearing such genuine words, Metal never regretted anything more than he regretted bringing her along. I should have just worked alone, he scolded himself. How could he have miscalculated the outcome so terribly? In his mind, Amy would reluctantly agree to help and he’d otherwise use her as a shield against her friends’ attack;. Nothing prepared him for feeling something toward her. There was a kinship, a bond that quickly formed like puzzle pieces fitting together. They managed to just… click. There was no room in his plan for that. But he was so close…

“I do not believe your friends have such faith in me,” he said finally.

“Yeah, I kinda got that feeling. I think we’re gonna have to sneak onto that island first if you want a chance at the mirror.”

That was nothing short of surprising to hear. “You would deceive your friends?”

“It’s for a good cause- they’ll forgive me. You’ll see.”

For the first time in days, land came into view on the horizon. It was a lush green island with little more than a tall mountain rising from its center. It was tiny even as they approached. Metal and Amy exchanged looks as they spotted it.

“Looks like this is it,” she remarked. “Just a teeny island with a little mountain…”

“It appears that way.” He scanned as far as he could zoom with his optics, getting a closer look at the landscape that was still some miles away. “That, however, is a volcano.”

“No kidding...” Amy glanced around the side of the vessel. “Is there a boat around here? We need to sneak ahead if we want to reach the treasure before the others.”

“I have a better idea...”

As Rouge and her crew were making preparations to dock, Tails spotted something flying in the distance. A look through his binoculars revealed H3 and H4 flying in tandem at full speed, apparently trying to get ahead of both ships. “Hey, those are Metal’s lackeys over there.”

Rouge ripped the binoculars from his hands. “They’re trying to get ahead of us, then? We’ll see about that. Tails, come with me; Knuckles, maybe you should pay our friend a visit.” Knuckles nodded as the others both kicked themselves off and toward the flying robots.

They caught up to them quickly and tried to block their way, but were soon engaged in battle. H3 and H4 used primarily evasive tactics and steadily drifted them in the opposite direction of the island while Knuckles made his way across Rouge’s ship and over to Metal’s.

Knuckles climbed over the tow rope that connected the ships and landed on deck with a shout. “Metal Sonic! Call back your minions, now!” Not hearing an answer, Knuckles stomped across the hard floor until he found the entrance to the captain’s quarters just below the helm. Not one to wait for invitations, he made quick work of the door with his fists. He punched through the splintered wood, finding Metal Sonic sitting across the room, the back of his captain’s hat visible over the winged armchair that faced away from the door. “I said call them back now!” Metal did not respond. “Did you hear me? And where’s Amy?!” Knuckles marched over to the chair, swiveling it around to face him. “I said-”

Instead of Metal Sonic, Knuckles was met with H1, who quickly ambushed him with his long rope-arms, holding him in place. “Damn you little-” Knuckles continued to struggle against H1, his master nowhere to be found.

“Well done, H1,” a shrill voice chimed from the door.

Knuckles twisted his body around clumsily to look. The rage in his eyes grew when he saw him. “Eggman!” Knuckles yelled just as his voice was swallowed up by H1’s coils around his mouth.

Meanwhile, Metal carried Amy swiftly over the water, floating quietly close to its surface. They stuck near the side of Rouge’s ship until they snuck ahead of it. The pair managed to make it to shore well before Rouge’s crew as she and the others remained distracted with Metal’s henchmen. They booked it across the sandy beach and onto the greener area, searching for another clue as to where exactly they’d find the treasure.

“Okay… what now?” Amy’s eyes darted around the scenery looking for any hint of a hidden treasure.

Metal looked to the compass that continued to point northward. “This way,” he instructed, accelerating into the small forest of palms that surrounded the volcano’s base with Amy on his heels. They ran deep into the tropical thicket as the sky above changed hue, the sun nearing the horizon. It wasn’t long before they reached a black stone wall overgrown with moss.

“Looks like this is the end of the line…” Amy ran her hand along the wall in search of another hint.

As Metal approached, he found the hand that held the compass was repelled, as if an invisible force pushed it away. Intruiged, he held out his other arm, feeling no such push. The device’s hand spun left and right wildly as he waved it in front of the wall. “Interesting…” He placed a claw on the wall, scratching at it. He was able to make a mark on its surface with little effort. “This is some kind of volcanic rock. It repels whatever this is made of…”

“Really? Must be why it points in the other direction?” Unsure of what else to do, Amy pulled the little crystal spyglass from her pocket, looking through its eyepiece. She scanned the wall up and down, the atmospheric light turning deep red as it had just before they’d set sail together. She stopped, finding a small spot that glowed faintly. It was a small divot in the rock. “There’s something here...” Amy pawed at the vines that crept up its surface, scratching off years of moss that had grown over the glowing spot.

She finally revealed the formation under all the greenery. “Oh! It’s shaped like-”

“Like a heart,” Metal interrupted, shining his own violet light upon the small heart-shaped crater. He approached it slowly, eyes fixed on the compass. Its rapidly twisting arrow straightened as he neared the spot. The correctly pointed side of the arrow indicated straight ahead. Reaching out, the compass practically jumped out of his hand from the magnetic pull as he moved to place it in the glowing divot.

To their left, the rocky base of the volcano rumbled. They whipped around to find a wall shifting, vines and moss tearing apart as a stone slab lifted off the ground to reveal a narrow entrance to a hollow cave within.

“Well that seems like a pretty clear path to me,” Amy grinned. But it was short lived as a sudden explosion boomed from the direction of the beach. Worried for her friends, Amy looked at Metal with concern. “What was that?”

Metal was just as shocked. “I don’t know…” He raised his eyeline to scan the sky, seeming to spot something not far away. Why here? He asked himself as he recognized the round figure.

“Why are you here?” he amplified his voice to The Doctor.

“To help you get the Stone Mirror, of course!” he called back giddily. “I’ll be happy to give you what you need! What form are you taking?” Another silhouette came into view above not far from them.

Metal shot a glance back at Amy. “When did you call him?” She stared up at Eggman with confusion.

“I didn’t,” Metal responded. Before he could think of what to tell Amy, he watched as H1 hovered down next to The Doctor, his arms still tangled around an enraged Knuckles. But Metal didn’t call for H1, either- which could only mean it was The Doctor’s doing. “Is this how you found me?” Metal growled, incensed at the realization.

“Wasn’t H1 useful?” Eggman cackled. “I know you wanted to work on your own, but aren’t you glad I was watching now that you need me?”

Metal was within reach of completing his mission on his own terms. The sight of his master infuriated him, his determination to succeed without The Doctor's help returning in full-force. He’d convinced Amy, he’d made it to the island- he was going to complete his objective. Why should he feel guilty about that?

“I don’t need you!” he roared. “I have everything I need!” He accelerated toward H1, grabbing the smaller robot by his shoulders as Knuckles uttered muffled curses while they flailed around in mid-air. “ Double-crossing heap of scrap metal! ” Metal’s voice rang out with a harsh mechanical twinge as he took hold of either of H1’s arms and swiftly ripped them out of their sockets, dropping Knuckles a few feet to the ground. As H1 kicked his feet around helplessly, Metal grabbed him by the head and catapulted him out of sight, far back in the direction of the beach.

His eye radiated a fierce, burning glow as he whipped around to face Amy, who looked horrified at his actions. “We need to go, now!”

“What? But what about-”

“Go!” Metal extended his arm out, shoving Amy through the cave opening.

“Metal!” Eggman shouted, “What’s gotten into you? That’ll take me all evening to fix!”

Ignoring him, Metal flew back toward the opening as Knuckles began to slip away from the heavy uncoiling tubes. “I’ll leave you to deal with him, ” he called back to The Doctor. Once inside the cave, Metal shot his arm out once more, grabbing and ripping the compass from its spot in the wall. The limb retracted back past the opening just as the stone wall fell back into place, narrowly avoiding crushing his hand.

They were swallowed in the pitch darkness of the cave. Metal illuminated his thermal vision in search of a path ahead, but was met with Amy’s panicked eyes first. Unable to see, she groped around for a wall to follow until Metal grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him.

She did not look the slightest bit relieved. “Metal! I can’t see anything…”

“I can guide us; let’s go.”

“Wait- what was…” he saw her glance back toward the direction of the cave entrance unhappily. “I mean, wasn’t that kinda harsh? What you did to H1…”

“Perhaps- but he was a traitor as far as I’m concerned.”

“Yeah, but, you really seemed to hurt him...”

The clock was ticking and there was only so much time before the others would come after them. “He will be fine,” Metal grumbled impatiently, starting forward.

Amy let herself be pulled along, but she wasn’t dropping the question. “It’s just… is that really the kind of person you want to be?” Amy quickly remembered how she’d thought of Metal. She had forgotten how absurd it was that she’d agreed to help him and how he’d coerced her into it to begin with.

“I’ve been betrayed, how would you have liked me to react?”

“Were you? It really sounds like Eggman was trying to help you-”

“I don’t need his help!” He cut Amy off. Her eyes cast down anxiously and Metal registered the doubt and unease in her face. She almost looked sick, stumbling in the dark and frightened by his violent reaction. He knew she was right to feel that way, but his mind was made up- he would do whatever it took to use the Stone Mirror without The Doctor’s help. And Amy had to be willing, so something had to be said to assuage her. “I can’t be indebted to him any longer. I need to do this alone.”

“But you can’t do it alone, Metal, that’s the point!” Amy’s hands fumbled over his arm until she reached his shoulder, facing up at the single glowing eye, the only thing she could see. “I know you wanna be independent, but we all depend on people. Don’t you think he cares about you if he’s willing to give you this much freedom?”

In a way, she was right- but without knowing the truth, Amy would never understand. Metal highly doubted The Doctor would actually help if he’d really wished to become organic, but he could not deny his master’s well-meaning interest. They had the same goal, after all… Metal just knew he could accomplish it without him. Perhaps then he could feel as if he were an equal in his empire and not just some high-ranking lackey. But how much of that could he really tell her?

“It is different… He created me, and he can control me. I cannot escape his shadow.”

“Is having flesh and blood really gonna change that?”

“... I do not know.” Any illumination provided by Metal’s eye turned to darkness. To Amy, it looked like he’d closed his eyes, though he continued to lead her forward without issue. He just wanted her to look away, making the guilt easier to beat down- but she held her ground. Metal continued, turning his face from her. “I believe that changing my form will give me some sovereignty, making me more respectable in his eyes... It is complicated.”

“I know.” Amy looked for the red LEDs to come back on so she could look Metal in the eye, but they remained out. “But I think you can accomplish that as you are.”

Metal stopped as they approached a wall. He could still see Amy looking lamentful in his peripheral vision, her hand in his as the other clung to his shoulder assuringly. This must have been where the treasure was stored, but he wasn’t sure he could still bring himself to deceive her. He made himself visible to her again, shining his red light on her face. He felt her exhale, as if relieved, when he did. “Are you… still willing to help me?”

A small smile spread across her lips. “Of course. I just wanted you to know that I think you’re capable, you know?”

Perhaps secretly, he’d hoped she would refuse. But there was no turning back now. “I believe we are here...”

“What is it?”

“A door… without a handle.” He stared at the wall head, a smooth slab that extended from the floor to the ceiling of the cave. The shape of a door looked to be carved into it, a circular cavity in place of where a doorknob would be. Words were painted in a neat script following the shape of the hole, appearing to have faded over the decades. “There is a bore hole. It reads, ‘For my greatest treasure: my gem, Beryl.’”

“Oh, ’cause Beryl is named after a gemstone, right? Pretty romantic,” Amy teased, wanting to lighten the mood.

“It is… clever.” Metal examined the hole in the door, measuring its diameter and determining its depth. Amy knelt ahead of him, her hand sliding off his shoulder and reaching out to the wall. She ran her fingers blindly along its surface in search of a clue. He watched as she felt around the great stone barrier, apparently determined to do whatever she could to help. With Amy’s other hand still held in his own, Metal led her to the carved edge of the doorframe. “This is the door,” he said, her fingers tracing down the groove in the stone. “And the bore hole.” He pulled her hand to the spot in the door where one would find a doorknob.

Amy placed her palm over it. “It’s kinda warm,” she remarked, feeling as balmy air flowed through from the other side.

“Yes,” he agreed, hesitantly pulling away.

“ My gem, Beryl, ” she repeated. “Hm…” Fumbling around her pocket, Amy pulled out the spyglass and held it up with the bluish crystal at the end. “Does this look like beryl?”

Metal’s hard claws clicked against the crystal as he held it between his thumb and forefinger. “It does… how theatrical.” There was amusement in his voice as he realized. “Shall we?”

Amy nodded, beaming with excitement. She brought the eyepiece end up to the hole in the wall, letting Metal push the crystal into the divot until it clicked. Pulling herself up by his arm, Amy gave him an encouraging nudge. Metal paused. He stared down at her a moment. “Go on,” she insisted with a smile.

Before they could move ahead, however, a sliver of orange light entered through the floor of the stone corridor. Looking back, Metal and Amy found the door to the cave once again rising, Rouge’s silhouette just illuminated in the late sunset as it rose. Knuckles and Tails weren’t far behind her but neither Eggman nor any of the henchmen were within sight. “This is the end of the line!” she commanded, stepping into the cave.

Metal and Amy shared a brief glance, and she gave him a single nod. “Do what you have to, but be careful, okay?”

If there was a time for Metal to reverse his decision, it was now. But though he hesitated, Metal returned her nod and turned to face the cave opening. The cavity in his chest began to glow with a white light that quickly brightened, luminous with energy. “I suggest you remain where you are,” he warned Rouge.

She stepped back slightly with a gasp, unsure if she could block his attack. “Amy, call him off before someone gets hurt!” she demanded.

Amy shook her head desperately. “Just stay back!”

Knuckles came charging in then, his eyes ablaze as he rushed past Rouge and started down the length of the corridor. Tails made a fruitless effort to stop him but was quickly pushed out of the way.

Rouge yelled, following after Knuckles. “Don’t!”

The compression chamber in Metal’s chest was charged, brilliant with energy. He turned his head slightly to Amy. “You stand back as well,” he advised. Not letting Knuckles get too close, Metal levitated a few inches up and aimed his chest engine up toward the cave ceiling. Rouge just managed to tackle Knuckles to the ground as Metal’s laser fired into the stone ceiling, causing a pile of gravel to rain down between them. Metal shot himself backward and away from the falling stone. As his feet hit the ground, he forced Amy to the wall and stood between her and the collapsing ceiling, blocking the stray debris with his body.

She shut her eyes and used her arms to shield her head, but Metal didn’t let so much as a pebble past his frame. As the dust cleared, Amy peeked up. Metal towered above her crouched form, only his glowing eye once again visible in the darkened cave as it stared down at her. Amy hid her face, slightly flushed from the excitement- and the proximity.

Metal pushed himself from the wall, offering her a hand. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” she squeaked, accepting the boost. “What about you?”

“No sustained damage.”

They stared at each other for a moment, once again hand in hand. Metal listened to her quickened heartbeat and observed the warmth surrounding her face. Amy panted lightly. She looked especially radiant in his thermal vision, her cheeks illuminated bright red. “Thank you,” Metal blurted out.

She looked at what little she could see of him with wide eyes. “What… what for?”

He wasn’t sure. “For… everything.”

“Well,” Amy slipped her hand away from his gently. “Don’t thank me yet. We’re almost there! Oh-” she hopped past him and lifted her voice, hoping it reached the other side of the debris pile. “Are you guys okay?”

There was a short pause before Rouge called back. “You’re lucky no one’s hurt!”

Amy released her tense breath. “Thank goodness! I’m sorry, we’re going to the treasure room now!”

“The what?!”

They could hear Rouge cursing from across the heap momentarily. Then Metal could just catch Tails utter something before their voices quickly faded away.

“I think we should hurry,” Amy said, hurrying back to his side. Metal simply nodded, reaching for the eyepiece in the wall.

The crystal spyglass turned like a knob in a door. Metal pulled it open and was immediately greeted with a burst of hot air that shot past them, the stone door acting as the only barrier to keep them from being scorched. As the air passed, the enormous chamber beyond became illuminated with torches lining the walls. On the farthest wall, a thin stream of magma flowed down the height of the farthest wall, making the space sear with radiant heat.

Standing ahead of her to look past the door, Metal cautioned Amy. “We are here. But for some reason Scarlett decided to store her treasure in a magma chamber.”

“That’s… terrifying. What else is in there?”

Metal stepped from the back of the stone door, standing in the entrance of the mysterious chamber with its seemingly magical torches and streaming lava. And then there was the treasure; Mounds of sparkling gold coins that glittered even in the dreariest of light were speckled with ingots and gilded statues all across the dusty ground. The center of the room was covered inches deep in jewels, silvery blades buried within the treasure to their gem encrusted hilts. Within it, on a platform mounded with riches, sat an ivory casket, its edges shining with golden filigree inlaid with rubies and sapphires. And finally, atop it all sat a simple stone box, its dull surface clashing with the glimmering room. “What we have been looking for,” Metal said with more lament than he intended.

Pushing past the door, Amy stood next to him and took in the magnificent sight for herself. She gasped with awe, her wide eyes shining with a golden halo in the warm light. “It’s beautiful,” she sighed. Amy stepped inside, giggling. “Rouge is gonna freak!”  The balmy air was stifling, but she ignored it and moved ahead, approaching the room’s center.

He followed her in cautiously, kicking random bits of treasure aside. “Be careful, there could be traps…” He watched as she pushed ahead, seeing her trod through the thick blanket of coins that littered the ground without hesitation. She fanned herself and pulled on her blouse collar uncomfortably, but headed straight for the macabre chest that sat in the middle of it all. There was no uncertainty in her stride- Amy was determined to help Metal in any way possible. He didn’t expect that to be so devastating.

Amy made her way up the elevated platform, standing on her toes to reach up to the top of the casket. There was an inscription on the lid of the stone box that sat on it. “ DO NOT OPEN,” it read. Raising a brow, Amy leaned in closer to find additional words on the front. “There’s an inscription on here…” She read it aloud: “The box reads, ‘In this casket lies Beryl, all I loved besides the sea. In this box, my remorse. Leave this cursed object where you found it; The remainder of this wretched treasure is yours. Scarlett.’ Oh…”

Reaching her side, Metal stared at the inscription that just reached his eye level.Remorse, he repeated to himself silently. “I suppose this is what we are here for.”

Amy sighed. “Yeah, I guess we should do this quick,” she reached out to the box.

Metal thought about stopping her, taking her hand and pulling it away from her cursed fate, but he did not get the opportunity. Something suddenly came crashing through the rocky wall of the chamber, chunks of stone booming as they scattered to the ground.

The cavern rumbled. Amy held onto the edge of the casket for support while Metal stabilized himself and turned his vision to the crash site. The bow of a metallic ship had pushed its way through to the cavern, its steely peak unaffected by the collision. As the rubble settled and the early moonlight seeped in through cracks, Eggman strode out onto the deck with a cackle. “What do you think of my new ship?” He extended his arms proudly. “She floats and flies!”

Metal was fuming. There he was, pushing past his immense guilt and moments from fulfilling his goal, only to be interrupted by The Doctor once again. Amy could sense his anger. She quickly found her balance and lifted her hand to his shoulder, trying to give him a reassuring look. He tensed up but did not look in her direction.

When neither of them responded, Eggman continued. “Don’t you like it? I thought we’d get you a better pirate ship for your-”

“Why do you insist on interrupting me?” Metal cut in bitterly.

“Oh come now,” The Doctor continued, “We’re on the same team! You made it this far- don’t let your pride get in the way,” he warned.

As he leaned forward on the bow of the ship, H3 and H4 popped in from the crack in the wall, squeezing their small bodies through the narrow space. Everyone watched silently as they flew crookedly toward Metal. They were scuffed and scratched, one of H4’s arms missing as the socket sparked out weakly. They landed on either side of Metal, clinking their hands to their heads weakly. “Yeesh, what happened to them?” Eggman asked with a grimace.

Clearing her throat, Amy cut in. “Look, I know you wanna help, but we have this under control. So please leave before someone gets hurt!”

“What?” he chortled. “Do you still believe Metal wants to be, what was it- ‘organic’? Ha!”

“Be quiet!” Metal spat back, his voice cutting into a dissonant metallic ring. Amy drew back her hand as she recoiled from the harsh noise.

“ Oh ,” Eggman snickered at the realization that Metal was trying to protect the girl. “Very interesting! But no need to keep up the charade, just grab her along with the mirror so we can get out of here.”

Looking between Eggman and Metal, Amy took several steps away from the robot. “He’s not lying, is he...?”

Metal stared back at her blankly. She would never help him now- his self-reliant plan had no hope of succeeding. If only he hadn’t hesitated…

“Well, hasn’t this been cute?” Eggman cackled cruelly at her fear before addressing his creation once more. Lowering his brow, The Doctor’s demeanor quickly became more serious and authoritative. “Metal, you need me in order to complete your objective. Time for action!”

He was right. Finishing the mission the way Metal had envisioned was out of reach, and Amy would never trust him again. All that was left to do was complete his objective. “It will be easier if you surrender,” he threatened her, narrowing his vision.

“ Of course you were lying.” There was bitterness in Amy’s voice as they glared at one another. She was trapped and outnumbered, but she wasn’t one to go without a fight, and he knew that. She took her gaze around the room frantically, surveying her surroundings. Just as she was deciding her next move, Amy spotted something red in the corner of her eye. She quickly shot her glare back at Metal Sonic, inching away from him.

Knuckles had slipped in through a crack in the stone, quietly scaling the wall near Eggman’s ship. Amy also spotted Rouge and Tails hidden in the ship’s shadow by the cave floor. Rouge brought a finger to her lips as Amy saw her. She knew that Metal would sense her friends if she didn’t keep his attention, so she kept talking. “Why’d you teach me how to fight if you just wanted me to surrender?”

“If you think you will best me in a real fight, you are mistaken. Give up before you get hurt.”

“Hmph! You were gonna kill me anyway- or were you just gonna let the curse do the work?”

The question lacked an answer. For however determined Metal was to get ahead of Sonic, he didn’t want to have to do it at Amy’s expense... Yet there was no calculable scenario in which he would defeat his rival where she wouldn’t intervene. There was no choice but to destroy her, too- whatever he did would only delay the inevitable. “Does it matter?” He took an imposing step toward her.

Amy reached the end of the long casket, turning the corner and putting it between them so Metal faced away from Eggman- and her team. She knew it wouldn’t hold him for long. “So I guess wanting to be friends was a lie, too…” There was genuine lament in her tone, her eyes squinting back sorrowfully. Amy couldn’t believe she’d let herself become attached to Metal- and in such a short amount of time. Whatever connection she’d felt was as good as severed now.

Metal stopped his advance, standing across from her. “...I never said that.”

“You sounded pretty eager to ‘spend time together,’” she quoted him.

“I…”

A loud ZAP was heard behind Metal. He quickly whipped around to find Knuckles falling to the ground before Rouge swooped in to catch him. “Did you really think I wouldn’t put up a barrier? Come now!” The Doctor laughed as he pulled out a small remote and the invisible barrier flashed around the ship. He pressed a button that sent at least a dozen sword-wielding badniks jumping off the deck and after Tails, Knuckles, and Rouge.

In the confusion, Amy jumped up to snatch the entirety of the stone box from atop the casket. Upon pulling down the heavy container, an ivory switch came up from the casket with a distinct CLICK . The cavern immediately began to rumble, Amy attempting to circumvent the treasure-topped platform and run back toward the direction of the ship in all the chaos.

Realizing this, Metal addressed his minions. “You two block her- the box is mine .”

Amy ran, struggling to keep her balance on the shifting cavern floor. Metal quickly propelled himself after her, reaching out with a clawed hand. Thinking fast, Amy tossed the solid stone lid back at him, hitting him square in the forehead. “Augh!” he groaned as he was knocked off route. As his henchmen closed in ahead of her with arms extended, Amy charged directly at them. Just as they reached out to stop her, Amy hit the ground and slipped between them, scraping against the hard floor. H3 and H4 collided with their arms entangled as she hurried to dust herself off and continue forward.

The cave trembled as the single thin stream of magma at the far wall thickened, now forming a pool on the cavern floor as its exit overflowed. A crack near the chamber entrance also burst open, sending boiling lava spewing over the door from which they had entered. Amy pushed forward through the surrounding heat, lugging the heavy weight toward the direction of her friends- and the oncoming battalion of badniks.

But Metal was quickly upon her again, his eyes blazing with the left flickering wildly front the blow to the head. Knowing he wouldn’t fall for the same trick twice, Amy instinctively ducked as he approached her. The hefty container slid in front of her and Metal lunged for it, snatching it off the ground to remove the artifact he’d been after- But there was nothing inside except dust.

Peering back at Amy, Metal found its rocky handle in her grasp. She had picked up the Stone Mirror- a simple rounded hand mirror with a handgrip and no discernible features other than its distinctive lack of any actual reflective surface. Amy was turning it back and forth in her hands, wondering if this was really what they’d been looking for. It resembled a hand mirror in shape alone, failing to function as an actual looking glass.

Ahead of them, Amy’s friends were already taking on a troupe of robots. After giving one a swift punch to the head that knocked it clean off its body, Knuckles caught sight of Amy- and the Stone Mirror. “Amy- don’t let him get his hands on it! Destroy it!” he called back, just dodging a swing from another badnik.

Hearing this, Metal tossed the useless box aside and flung himself at Amy once more, drawing his sword. As he brought his weapon down over her, Amy held up the mirror at both ends, blocking his attack with its handle. His sword made contact, but bounced off as he hesitated at the last second. Drawing her own sword, Amy pointed it at him sharply. “I’m not going down so easy!” She lunged at him, managing to push to the side as she changed direction toward the pooling magma at the other end of the chamber.

“H3 and H4, corner her!” Metal commanded. The henchmen had just managed to detangle their limbs. H4 launched himself forward at her while H3 came up on the other side.

The heat thickened as she approached the impossibly hot lava, panting and sweating, struggling to run ahead. Metal Sonic was faster than her and closed in quickly behind. Amy could already see H3 and H4 cornering her into the far wall. Rather than wait to be trapped, Amy swung her arm and pitched the mirror fiercely toward the magma. H4, however, threw out his remaining arm, catching it before it made contact with the boiling pool. “Take it back to The Doctor,” Metal instructed him.

“Crap!” Amy cursed. She spun around and pointed, calling out to her friends. “He’s got the mirror!”

Unfortunately for the little robot, the damage he’d sustained made it impossible to fly straight, and he struggled to avoid obstacles. This made it easy for Tails to fly by, grabbing the Stone Mirror to try and pry it out of H4’s tightly clamped claws. Not having another arm to entangle the boy with, H4 swung the coil around wildly, trying to throw Tails off like a mechanical bull. Seeing this, Metal ordered H3 to help his brother and the minion quickly wobbled off.

Eggman watched in frustration as it all unfolded, most of the robots lying in a heap of scrap at the base of his ship. “This is getting boring,” he yawned, and he flipped another button on his remote that sent out another wave of badniks. “I’ve had enough of this; go after the girl! Make it quick.” He wanted to draw the others away from the ship for a quick getaway once the mirror was secured.

Knuckles groaned in annoyance at the new wave of badniks. “I’ll deal with them- help Tails grab the mirror,” he yelled to Rouge through fierce swings of his fists. She nodded and shot herself toward the battling minions.

Meanwhile, Amy was cornered- Metal Sonic ahead of her while searing magma pooled behind her. “Surrender!” Metal commanded, pointing a steely claw at her while he held his sword down by his side.

“Never!” She had no choice but to get out of the way as lava threatened to melt her boots clean off, so she lunged at Metal Sonic with her sword, putting her full force into the attack. His stance quickly changed and he blocked her attack with his sword.

Metal attempted to counter, but Amy kept after him, swinging at him so furiously that he couldn’t get an attack in. “You lied to me!” she screamed out, her eyes brimming with fury.

“Argh- I did what I had to!” he spat back, holding his weapon against hers.

She gripped her sword fiercely with both hands, pushing against him. Angry tears formed in the corners of her eyes. “I thought we had something!” she wailed. Metal’s guilt bubbled to the surface and he faltered momentarily, giving Amy a chance to push his weapon away and plunge toward him. Metal lost his grip and the sword clattered to the ground away from him.

Amy’s lunge would have impaled him through the chest if it wasn’t for the interference of one of Eggman’s badniks. The robot cut ahead of Metal, blocking her swing. As Knuckles struggled to keep them all back, four more of the rotund bots arrived, surrounding Amy and Metal. She brandished the weapon in front of her frantically, pointing it from badnik to badnik. “Rouge,” she called, “Use the sword!”

Metal’s sword had landed just below where she and Tails struggled against H3 and H4. She kicked H3 aside and shot down, seizing the sharp weapon from the cavern floor. “Tails- move!” she warned. The boy quickly propelled himself away as he saw her aiming the sword at H4’s remaining arm. Rouge flung it at the robot, slicing his hand off at the wrist, sending his clamp-like fingers falling to the ground with the Stone Mirror still in its clutches. “Hold them off!” Rouge caught it mid-flight, clamp and all, and got moving in Amy’s direction with the intention of tossing the artifact in the magma and picking her up on the way back.

“Metal,” Eggman howled from a speaker, “Stop that flying rat and retreat with the mirror at once!”

Giving her a final glare, Metal lifted off the ground. “I wish you’d given up,” he told Amy before thrusting straight up to intercept Rouge.

“Why do you care?!” Amy‘s chest heaved, her weak hand wiping the sweat from her brow as the group of badniks slowly pushed her closer and closer to the bubbling magma behind her.

Rouge wasn’t fast enough to dodge Metal Sonic. All she could do to keep the mirror out of his clutches was to hurl it in the direction of the lava pit just before he made contact with her, sending her plummeting to the cave floor- without the Stone Mirror in hand.

As if slowing time, Metal shot his gaze toward the mirror as it fell. His systems worked at lightning speed to determine its velocity and the likelihood that he could catch it before it was destroyed. Metal was tough, but not indestructible- he wouldn’t survive a plunge into the magma. But it was when he was calculating the possible outcome, already drilling his body through the air and down toward the sizzling pool, that he spotted Amy Rose cornered by badniks against boiling magma, mere feet from being pushed into it.

Suddenly, there was a second option to his trajectory. It was her or the Stone Mirror. Save Amy Rose, or be closer than he’s ever been to fulfilling the very objective to his existence. Why was it a question? So much as considering her over his purpose went against his plan, the very core of his programming; And yet, he had already decided the moment he saw her in mortal danger. Before he could comprehend why, Metal had already shifted his flight path.

Amy was panting and swaying, dizzy from the intoxicating heat of the cave. Her vision was blurry and wet with tears as she fought off the attacks from several opponents at once. If they didn’t end her, the magma would. One of the badniks lunged at her while she parried another and she was sure she wouldn’t be able to dodge in time. Just as Amy thought she would have to say a final prayer, Metal Sonic landed between her and the robot, arms outstretched to form a barrier between them.

The sword-wielding badnik stabbed its weapon forward with no time to stop before the sharp end impaled Metal through the chest. The sword cut into his turbine, causing sparks to fly out as the engine sputtered. He heard the devastating sound of the Stone Mirror falling into the magma next to them, watching it sizzle from the corner of his eye as it sunk in. There went everything he had worked towards- yet this regret was so much less than the remorse he’d felt betraying Amy.

“Metal!” Amy gasped.

“You scrap-heap!” Eggman shrieked at the badnik whose sword was stuck in Metal Sonic’s engine. “When I’m through with you-”

There was no time to finish the statement. Glowing-hot lava began to burst from cracks in all the interior walls as the cavern quaked. Gravel fell from the ceiling as the space began caving in. “Retreat at once!”

All of Eggman’s remaining robots dropped what they were doing to run, leaving Knuckles free. He spotted Rouge crawling across the ground and Tails kicking H3 away from him a final time. Knuckles ran to Rouge, supporting her as she stood. “Where’s Amy?” he asked frantically as they struggled to stay upright on the unsteady ground.

Rouge turned her head back as Tails joined them. “Oh, no…”

Metal gripped the hilt of the sword that stuck out from his chest and quickly drew it out, tossing it to the side. The increased lava flow had left them completely surrounded on a precarious island that would soon be inundated. In her surprise, Amy shook the daze from her head. The tears that had welled in her eyes overflowed as she looked up at him in shock. “You- You came back!”

“I am as surprised as you,” he said, drawing her close to him as the boiling magma rose around them. “Hold on.” Metal lifted them off the ground, faltering as he did. His engine stalled, causing him to hover up and down unexpectedly until they finally passed the pooling lava, crashing onto the cavern floor. They were past the immediate danger, but Metal could no longer fly. As Amy stood, he found that his legs had given out as well- only enough power left to operate his upper body. He ordered his minions over hurriedly. “H3, H4, I need you here.”

The little robots did their best to fly over, dodging falling pieces of the stone ceiling. Metal was taken aback by their appearance. “H4? Where’s the rest of you?” The minion shrugged with what was left of his right arm, only the long coil hanging down from its socket. Realization set in for Metal. He looked back at Amy’s panicked face. “H3 cannot carry me alone. I will have to stay. You go with him-”

“No!” Amy shook her head furiously. “You can’t!”

“My weight exceeds his capacity-” Metal tried to explain.

“Don’t be stupid!” She grabbed hold of one of Metal’s arms, dragging him across the floor at a surprising pace.

Her strength was impressive, but they would never make it out before the chamber caved in at this rate. “We are too slow! Just leave!”

“I won’t!” Amy struggled. “H3, a little help would be nice!”

He and Metal exchanged glances for a moment. Metal quickly realized the stubborn girl wouldn’t be leaving him behind. “Well, help her!” he commanded.

H3 obeyed, swiftly grabbing his master by the other arm and dragging him along. They moved at a running pace now, nearing the half-collapsed wall from which Eggman had crashed his ship.

“Amy, what are you doing?!” Knuckles called out. He’d handed Rouge over to Tails to fly out with and now ran alongside her and Metal.

“Just shut up and run!”

As they all neared the threshold and The Doctor caught sight of Metal Sonic, his ship began to back out from the wall. “Hurry!” he yelled at them as it floated back.

The ceiling was falling down behind them, burying the chamber and all its treasure under mounds of solid stone and liquid earth. The entire cavern was seconds from collapsing. Tails was the first out with Rouge in his grasp while H4 and Knuckles followed closely behind. Finally, Amy and H3 dragged Metal past the cave’s external wall as the entirety of the cavern came down behind them. Stones boomed, pounding to the floor in the direction they’d come from. The crashing stone wall rattled and broke the ground outside, lurching everyone forward and away from the entrance with a gust of wind.

It was a rough landing, but the side of the volcano they’d come out from faced the sandy beach. Knuckles groaned, spitting sand out of his mouth after landing face first. Tails came down, landing softly beside him with Rouge. He set her down on the beach and collapsed onto the soft ground, exhausted. Eggman’s steel ship floated above them as he hung over the rails looking relieved. Metal’s henchmen floated about for a moment before a faint beeping drew them away into the palm tree thicket nearby.

Amy couldn’t bring herself to sit up. She lay in the sand, sweating and heart pounding, staring straight up at the night sky as the adrenaline subsided. Metal’s half-functioning body was strewn beside her face-down. He pushed himself from the sand, flipping over to look straight up. Metal fondled the ground desperately, leaving drag marks in the sand with his sharp claws until Amy’s hand happened upon his, locking their fingers together. He relaxed, relieved to still have her by his side. It was the least he could hope for after giving up his plan to save her, he told himself- but he knew it must have been more than that. They sat in silence for just a few moments.

“... It does look a bit like a swan,” he muttered, staring into the starry sky. Cygnus was in full view over the island.

Amy couldn’t keep from snickering as he spoke, noticing the constellation suspended above them. “Guess you didn’t need to be organic to see it after all- ow! Laughing hurts...”

“Seeing as I am still mechanical, I’m afraid I cannot relate…”

She burst out in laughter, holding her ribs with her free hand. Amy’s shoulders bounced, highlighting the dull soreness in her arms from having dragged Metal’s heavy body across the collapsing cavern. “Don’t start-” she giggled. It always seemed to amuse her when he made those snide remarks.

Some yards away, Rouge sat up, holding the back of her head. “There goes my treasure… Is everyone alright?”

Tails flashed a lazy thumbs-up as Knuckles stretched beside her. “I’ll live,” he remarked gruffly. “What could those two be laughing about…?”

“Who knows?” she grumbled. “A bit cheery for a pair who just cost me my treasure.”

Quick footsteps were heard from the far side of the beach. Rouge’s crew and a set of cameramen were hastily running to meet with her. She sighed. “Back to work, I suppose.” As they stumbled near, Knuckles came to his feet and gave her a hand up. Tails dusted himself off groggily and joined them. The trio were surrounded by sailors and cameras soon enough as Rouge immediately began giving orders, playing up the authoritative remarks for the cameras.

Down the beach, Metal’s minion’s floated near him, H3 holding H1’s sparking body in his arms. Metal pushed himself to sit up, looking at the dismembered robot with remorse. “Perhaps I was a bit harsh…” He took hold of H1 as the metallic husk beeped intermittently and automatically, not appearing to be active.

Pulling herself into a sitting position, Amy groaned. “Is he gonna be okay?” she motioned to H1.

“Yes… I can repair them all. We will be fine.”

Eggman hovered down in his floating Eggmobile, coming to a landing and jumping out to address his creations. “Metal! What happened out there? Is your turbine functional?”

Metal glared at The Doctor for a moment. The lights in his left eye flickered weakly every time he moved his head. He believed he should have been furious, but he had neither the energy nor any strong feelings against his master in that moment. “No,” he responded simply.

“You sure did a number on him,” Eggman said, referring to H1 as Metal held him. “Well, we’ll get ‘em next time… Here, charge up so we can go.” A battery pack was quickly hooked up to Metal’s back, steadily providing his body with the power to operate his legs. Amy watched fondly as Eggman doted over him, a sly smile appearing on her face. The Doctor noticed her peering. “What are you looking at, you pest? You should consider yourself lucky to be alive-”

“That is enough,” Metal said plainly. “Give me a minute…”

“... Fine,” Eggman relented. “I‘ll make preparations to ‘set sail,’” he snickered, getting back into his hovercraft and floating away to the flying ship.

H3 and H4 sat in the sand by Amy and Metal, patiently waiting for him to regain his energy. As The Doctor’s attention turned away from him, Metal pulled the charging cable out from his back and connected it to H1’s body. The narrow strip of light that formed his visor powered on as Metal held him in front of his chest.

“You are quite the little spy…” Metal stared at H1 as he activated, the small robot bobbing his head around as if nervous. “... Very good work. I shall keep you around.” H1 stopped his frantic movement, tensing up for a moment before relaxing. Amy giggled as Metal set him down in the sand between them, reaching out and straightening the bandana around his neck. Metal turned to face her so their eyes met. “Thank you for bringing me with you. I am not sure my body could have been recovered from all the rubble.”

She was beaming warmly. “Well, you didn’t let me die in the end, so…” she gestured vaguely. “Call it even for now.” Amy winked.

“Hm. For what it’s worth, I was not going to permit you to sacrifice yourself. Though I cannot comprehend why…”

“Oh thanks,” Amy snickered through her sarcastic response. “Well, even though you lied… I think I believe you,” she shrugged.

Metal never felt like he needed to justify or excuse anything that he’d done in the past; He only ever did what he had to in the name of completing his objective. And though he resented losing this opportunity, the guilt he felt from lying was somehow much stronger. “Yes, well- I have never apologized for anything in my entire existence, but… I do regret that. I am sorry.”

“Really?” She ran a finger through the sand, leaving faint lines. “Ah, at least I got a sword lesson out of it ...I’ll think about forgiving you,” she responded with a coy smile. Metal Sonic was a bit of a mystery, but she could sense that he was apologetic in saving her and as he reactivated H1. She felt it was genuine, though she promised herself to keep him on his toes if they ever say one another again. “Anyway, don’t you need to charge, too?” she asked.

“There is enough for us both. In any case, I can spend a bit more time with you this way.”

She grinned playfully. “Yeah, too bad we’re in no shape for a dance lesson.”

“I suppose not... Perhaps next week, then.” He forced it out indifferently, but there was hope in his response.

It was unclear whether he was just teasing her. Amy flushed suddenly, turning her gaze away. Nothing could have been stranger than feeling this fondly toward Metal after the emotional roller coaster of the last several days, but the idea of being that close again didn’t sound so bad to her now. Only time would tell how the unusual new friendship would play out from opposite sides, but Amy was more than willing to find out. “Yeah, I guess that’ll work,” she responded finally, smiling back up at him. She couldn’t help but think that he’d be grinning back if he could.

-----

“ The treasure has been… compromised, ” Rouge explained. Footage of her on a beach played on a small hand-held tablet. She was wearing a scuffed-up navy suit but stood with confidence and authority. “ There were some… complications. It may be too dangerous to excavate. ”

B-roll of the surrounding area played as a news anchor reported the story. A dark, tropical beach with a mountain at its center. A pile of rubble surrounded by crew members as Tails pointed at and discussed various spots. Rouge storming off the beach as Knuckles followed after her angrily.

Sonic watched the morning news in awe. He’d been lounging groggily near the Master Emerald when he sat up at the appearance of his friends.

“ … and perhaps most strangely of all, the missing historical ship, the Royal Fortune, was found drifting just offshore. She appears to have sustained some damage over the week or so since she went missing. Her disappearance seems to be related to the notorious Dr. Eggman. ” As an announcer spoke, the recording showed a short clip of Metal Sonic and Amy chatting at the bow of the now-anchored ship, her leaning over a railing nonchalantly and giggling while he stood in a stately manner, his gaze fixed on her. Amy then ducked out of the shot when she spotted the camera. Metal Sonic turned to face it directly, glaring with his left eye flickering eerily. The shot quickly panned away.

“Is that…?” Sonic’s jaw dropped as he watched the clip, unable to fathom just what kind of adventure they’d ended up on. Seeing Amy lounging around with Metal Sonic on a stolen vessel was by the far the strangest, but everyone appeared to be safe and would likely be returning soon, so there was no need to worry. “Heh, can’t wait to hear about this.” Sonic went back to his leisurely position as the story ended, grinning over the unexpected footage of his friends and eagerly waiting to hear about all the fun his team was having without him. Still, he doubted it would be enough to get him tagging along on the next seafaring adventure.

-----

wow so that ended up being like twice as long as intended~ i hope yall enjoyed it. meant to have it up earlier but. that’s life.

this is of course part 2 to what i was working on for @metamy-ship-week​

a very very very special thank you to @mmm-asbestos​ for inspiring this fic and brainstorming the story with me. i am incredibly thankful to have worked on something with someone who inspires me so much ❤ i had a great time

happy new year friends~ i hope 2021 treats you all with kindness.

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

[sunsbled-archive]

NEW MUSE :     FANDOMLESS / AZUR LANE .

NAME :    jens zimmermann . ALIAS :    ironblood ,   jenny ( by reuben ) . AGE :    twenty - seven . STATUS :    active . OCCUPATION :    commander of the ironblood fleet .

LOCATION :    naval base . WEAPON :    guns . MOTIVATION :    unknown .

HEIGHT :     194 centimeters ,   6′5 WEIGHT :    unknown . NOTABLE FEATURES :  greyed out hair ,    violet eyes .

BACKGROUND :     born to a high - ranking navy officer jens is no stranger to the way of wars; whether it came from sneaking into his fathers study to read through his documents or the horrendous tales told to him by his grandfather. what didn’t help, however, was how his father quite literally worked himself to the grave until jens found himself forced to live with his incredibly strict grandfather after his fathers passing and the mysterious disappearance of his mother. his grandfather was not a kind man; rude, belittling his grandson at every turn and forcing jens to “prove his worth” unless he wanted to go without food for the day.

it is something that translates into his work morale. originally set to study medicine jens took a turn for the worse when he followed into his fathers footsteps and went the military route knowing full well his upbringing would eventually ruin him just as it had his father. at first he rebelled, took it easy. only did what was necessary. until a horrible incident during what was supposed to be a relatively tame mission with his squad that left him the sole survivor, losing his friends and his best friend - someone who had become like a brother to him - in the mean time. it sparked what would eventually bring ruin to him and now dedicated to never losing anyone again jens began to work more than any human should possibly be able to shoulder.

he rose through the ranks fairly quickly after that and, much to his dismay, officials began labeling him as a genius, ignoring the amount of blood and sweat he put into his work in favor of painting the picture of the perfect little soldier. within a few years he eventually reached the rank of commander at a young age, far younger than most among him and soon he found himself in charge of several fleets of newly created ships in order to fight a global threat. except even if he doesn’t want to admit it, his side is questionable in morals, using enemy technology to advance their power and consistently jumping over the line of helping against the global threat and using it to advance themselves. though thanks to his standing jens has decided to make ties with other officials from different factions; making attempts to tie everyone together to fight their common enemy together.

PERSONALITY :     a complete workaholic it is incredibly uncommon to find jens outside of work; he favors doing more paperwork over a night out and finds himself picking up slack from a handful of subordinates who outside of battle are ... a little on the incompetent side. his dedication to work has made his social skills rusty; so focused on fulfilling his duty that everything that isn’t a professional matter tends to hit him in the face like a brick.

it isn’t to say that he doesn’t care, however. he makes sure that anyone under him gets time off, that they do not overwork themselves as he frequently does. he cares about their well - being and even if he never outright says it; it’s incredibly clear that he cares about everyone on base to the point it almost crosses the border of professionalism. he’s a caring individual, even if his approach tends to be a little awkward and stiff at times.

that being said he is incredibly good at masking how he feels, keeping a pokerface even when certain individuals on base attempt to tease him for a reaction and able to keep a straight face even during meetings with other factions tend to get heated.

#JENS TBT . #anyways here's the first of the two commanders #bc i accidentally somehow managed to make hina join a polyship with them LMFAO #so i decided ' time to post them so i can bully :) ' LMAOOOOOO

[mikwrites-archive]

tango in the night

♜ pairing: kim mingyu x reader        ♜ warnings: death, suicide, swearing, guns, slight suggestiveness ♜ genre: apocalypse au, friends to lovers        ♜ wc: 4.3k

♜ a/n: inspired by fleetwood mac’s song and the photos of mingyu from this hit performance bc WHEW - it turned out way longer than i expected and i ran past the image limit hence the weird dividers HWJBSJD ALSO every other part is a flashback so i hope its not confusing!! enjoy <33 (ps. i hope theres no mistakes bc im posting before i go to bed n im sleepyyy)

The sky is a hazy purple when Kim Mingyu reappears in your life.

There’s streaks of red on the horizon, like a bitter reminder of what it has taken to slowly heal, and something restless inside you is able to settle at the sight for a few moments as you look on from your porch.

You can tell it’s him the minute his figure solidifies past the sunflower field, but still, you rest your hand on the rifle warily. He doesn’t see you until he’s staring down your barrel, and he slows significantly.

“Stop right there.” Unwavering, you cock your rifle, aiming it straight at him.

“It’s me.” Mingyu blinks, halting, holding his hands up. He seems taller than you remember, honeyed skin curving over firm muscles.

“I know who you are.”

Kim Mingyu. You flash back to the moonlit night, tinted in deep blue and black, silver highlighting itself across his back like a sculptor’s pride. You shake yourself out of it quickly.

No use in dwelling over dreams held too closely to the heart.

“Take off your clothes.”

“Huh?” Mingyu’s features draw together confusedly, with a tinge of embarrassment.

“I need to make sure you’re not marked. It’s not like I haven’t seen you without them before.” You add on, unimpressed at his pace, and Mingyu reluctantly obliges.

“I would have enjoyed a nice candlelit dinner or something before this, didn’t know you were so possessive-”

“Oh, shut up.” You bite back a choked laugh that you hate being unable to control at his words, and Mingyu grins.

He’s got a new scar rippling across his shoulder as he turns slowly in a circle, and the others are committed to memory, traced under your fingertips more than enough.

“I think you trust me enough to know I don’t have a mark down there.” Mingyu smirks amusedly, eyes flicking down to his boxers.

You glare at him, letting your aim drop. He puts on his clothes methodically, tilting his head at you.

“You do remember that the sunflowers repel marked ones right?”

“Evolution is a sneaky bitch.” You sigh, leaning the rifle back against the rail, and Mingyu steps up the rickety porch, standing in front of you.

I missed you. You want to say. I’m glad you’re alive.

“Why are you here?”

“I dunno.” I wanted to see you if you still were here. “Nowhere else I could have gone.”

“Didn’t you know?” You crack a sarcastic grin. “We have the entire world at our fingertips.”

                                                  ♜ ♜ ♜

The Apocalypse is expected.

You’re taught about it in school, the news broadcasting daily updates about another storm, another decrease in air quality, another hole in the atmosphere. The sky bled further to red every day, until you and Mingyu barely remembered its true colour.

The Virus, however, throws the world further into tempestuous chaos.

Till this day, no one knows exactly what bacteria, what symptoms, anything, except that a sickly circle mark appears somewhere on your skin.

With governments already crumbling, the disease made them shrink further within themselves, the upper class secluding themselves, and the lower succumbing, while the middle struggled, and you and Mingyu were the very latter.

Being next door neighbours, it was predetermined fate to be close friends with one another, walking home from school together, swapping lunches, and sharing secrets. Maybe even sharing a life, a love, a bond, unbreakable unless by death.

“It’s morning.” Mingyu comments, peering out the curtain, judging the light in the sky. Neither of you had slept since the announcement on the news that the Virus was now in your city.

“They’re not coming back.” You state flatly. Mingyu knew it as well, and only sighed. “They’re probably walking around downtown, not even knowing their own names.”

“They’re still our parents.” Mingyu argues weakly.

“Not anymore.”

Grim silence falls.

“Hey.” Mingyu cracks a hesitant smile, nudging you in the side. “Y’know what this means?”

Your wary stare doesn’t betray your curiosity, but Mingyu knows you.

“We have the entire world at our fingertips.”

Some kind of world, you think bitterly as you recall the memory. Yet Mingyu has a half smile on his face at your repeated words of the past, as if the world and your memories in it were meant to be savoured.

You supposed he was somewhat right.

The sky is healing back to blue and something inside you slowly begins to mend with Mingyu at your side.

                                                 ♜ ♜ ♜

“You haven’t changed anything.”

“Of course not.”

Mingyu trails his fingertips along the walls. The wallpaper is peeling now, showing the bones of the structure that held too many memories to change. It felt disrespectful to shift anything, and cleaning the rooms even if they weren’t used, gave you something to do.

“Any word from the others lately?”

“I get letters from ‘Cheol, ‘Hannie, and ‘Shua. By pigeon. Can you believe it? Leave it to ‘Shua to tame pigeons in his spare time.” You snort, and Mingyu laughs at the image of Joshua with a pigeon. “They tell me about the other when they get news.”

“So no one else has visited?”

You shake your head.

“You’ve been alone?”

“I’m never alone.”

Mingyu swallows the lump in his throat. You don’t need to elaborate. He understands.

“I’m scared of forgetting them though.” You whisper. “Jun. Soonyoung. Seungkwan. Hansol. Chan.”

Junhui. No one knows where he is, except Minghao. He wanted it that way, whispering in soft Mandarin to his friend, and Minghao had disappeared for hours after Jun closed his eyes forever.

It was Minghao who pulled the trigger too, Jun pressing the pistol into his hand trustingly, the circle mark creeping out from under his t-shirt collar.

Soonyoung. He’s in the sunflower field, the one who had told you all about their repelling abilities. The sunflower boy, quiet yet exuberant, always facing the light.

He went too soon towards it, getting the group of you out of an abandoned mall populated with marked ones, deep gashes bloodying his clothes. His last breath was in Jeonghan’s arms, in the second bedroom of your house now.

Seungkwan and Hansol. All that you found of them was torn tie-dye cloth, and a battered navy cap, after they didn’t come back from looking for supplies. The last thing they had said to you, you remember clearly. A crooked smile, a breathless laugh. See you later.

Chan.

It was too soon to think about Chan.

                                                 ♜ ♜ ♜

It was a week later when you both agreed to venture out of your house, and to go to the school. It was eerily quiet in your neighbourhood, the red from the atmosphere elongating the shadows.

The school is dark, and you barely make it two steps in when you encounter others.

“Who’s there?” The voice is loud, demanding, and with the shuffling that follows, you can tell you’re outnumbered in the dim light.

There’s a click of a gun, and you and Mingyu freeze. He scrambles for your hand reassuringly. Squeezes it once.

“Names. Now. And why you’re here.”

“We wanted to see if anyone would be here. If anyone could help us.” You stammer after you state your names.

“They’re okay. They’re in my class.” Minghao steps into view solemnly, and suddenly you both feel like you can breathe again.

There’s twelve of them.

Seungcheol, Jeonghan, Joshua, Jun, Soonyoung, Wonwoo, Jihoon, Minghao, Seokmin, Seungkwan, Hansol, and Chan.

A tentative system is already set up in the days they’d arrived before you, and it’s easy to fit in. There’s a lot of travelling by foot until Jeonghan learns how to hotwire cars, tired of walking. There’s a lot of scavenging for weapons and food, competitions made out of it. There’s lots of soft singing, fooling around, and lots of quiet nights, holding each other.

The house is long abandoned by the time you all stumble across it, and it’s quickly shaped into a home.

You remember planting sunflower bulbs. Attempting numerous recipes to accommodate the scarce ingredients and everyone’s tastes. Sticky notes and knick-knacks everywhere. You couldn’t say it was broken when the group diminished in number, but the gaps left with each mourning never went away.

Soon enough, it was only you left in an empty house you still called home, despite lacking everything that once made it one. You, with the wispy dreams long gone, and the nightmares.

                                                 ♜ ♜ ♜

The door slams open, and you wake up, the scream dying in your throat along with the night terror, and you forget you’re not alone anymore when your bedroom door bursts open.

Mingyu holds you close, soothing whispers falling from his lips, rocking you back and forth gently, and you shove him away like his touch scalds you, and in a way it does.

It’s burning, the evocation of the past, and once he relents, a shuddering chill falls over your body.

“Who was it?” Mingyu asks softly, and you can’t look at him. The moon shines too bright for your liking through your window.

You heave, eyes fluttering shut, shaking as a mix of sweat and tears drip down your cheeks.

“Chan.” You croak.

Mingyu imperceptibly flinches as if the gunshot reverberated just outside again.

                                                 ♜ ♜ ♜

Chan was always clinging to you.

It was something the others all teased him about, picking favourites, and you remember his indignant response every time.

“If they don’t have a problem with it, why do you?”

And you never did have a problem. Chan was like your little brother, much like to everyone else in your ragtag team, doting on him in a world where loving care was scarce. You wished you could have shielded him from it all.

“I’m tired.”

“Then go to sleep.” You murmur with a teasing gleam of a smile, comfortingly smoothing his hair back. He’d been having nightmares more frequently since Soonyoung was laid down in the sunflowers, and it was common for one of you to stay up with him.

“Not that kind of tired. I keep… I keep seeing them. I want it to stop.” A tear rolls down his cheek, and you move to brush it away, but he beats you to it, struggling to sit up.

“Channie…”

His head falls to your shoulder, choking out sobs. You hold him close, praying to whatever higher being that may exist to spare him from further despair. And if no such thing existed, you’d swore to make one into life out of your own blood and tears.

“I’m not a baby anymore. You know that right?” He sniffles once he calms down.

“I know.” You blink, startled at his sudden statement.

“I know I’m the youngest… but I can take care of myself.”

“I know.” You nod, and Chan stares piercingly at you, before slumping down against his bed frame.

“I’m tired.”

You don’t say anything, unsettled at his sudden shift.

“Can you go get me a glass of water? I think it’ll help me sleep better.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you.” He calls out, and you pause, smiling at him. He returns it.

You drop the glass when the shot rings out, shattering across the floor, water cascading like the blood on the floorboards just above you.

You run up, uncaring of the glass shards, collapsing to your knees when the sight unfolds in front of you, thundering footsteps of the others hot on your heels.

They have to pry you away from his body, and you’re positive you’ve torn his shirt in your struggle, the blood on your hands unrecognizable from his or from your ripped off nails. The dark stain still lies on the wood under your feet when you dare to venture into the room painfully.

You sobbed for nights on end. You weep this night too. Mingyu sits by your side.

                                                 ♜ ♜ ♜

“I think we should ask the others to come back again.” Mingyu clinks his spoon against the side of his cereal bowl, wincing when it resonates, as if increasing the severity of his suggestion. Yet it’s said in a tone of careful deliberation that has you knowing he’s thought it out.

So you pause in slathering butter on your toast. Setting down the knife and slice of bread, you lean your palms on the counter, thinking.

You wondered if Jeonghan still had trouble sleeping at times. You wondered if Jihoon still liked to write lyrics on whatever slips of paper he could find. You wonder if Minghao still stopped to look at the rain whenever it did. You wondered.

“Okay.” You nod finally, and Mingyu perks up.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Turning to stare out the window, you watch the sparrows swoop across the long abandoned telephone wires.

“I think it’s time.”

                                                 ♜ ♜ ♜

Everyone leaves soon after that.

Everyone except Mingyu.

You don’t blame them. There’s promises to find ways to keep in touch. But it hurts all the same. And there’s no doubt it’s harder for you both to survive alone.

“Hey, wait, stop.” You grab Mingyu’s arm suddenly, nearly scaring the living daylights out of him as you make your way back to the house from scavenging for extra supplies and food, your voice hushed in the dark evening.

“My parents were wearing jackets like that the last time I saw them.”

Mingyu looks over at where your gaze lies, lost between the figures of two people undoubtedly victims of the Virus. Though Mingyu supposes he can’t call them people anymore.

“Let’s go.” Mingyu tugs at your arm. When you don’t move, he does it again, harsher.

“But…” You’re adamant, digging your heels in the dirt firmly, wistfully staring at the couple, staggering around a long abandoned car.

“Don’t you remember? They’re probably walking around downtown, not even knowing their own names.” Mingyu persuades, and you take a reluctant step with him.

“But what if it’s really them?” You persist, and Mingyu makes you stare into his eyes. The expression that meets his is chilling. Your gaze is clear, unmuddled, and somehow, that’s more terrifying to him than if they were glazed over by a lost delirium.

You pull out of his grip, and before he can stop you, you call over to them. A cold shiver runs down Mingyu’s spine as they look up at you both, ambling over, and he grabs you again.

“What are you doing?” He hisses.

“Aren’t you tired, ‘Gyu?” You state simply, helplessly. “Aren’t you tired of being alone?”

Something in Mingyu’s gaze hardens, like glowing tempered steel doused in water, and he yanks you back, pressing you to his chest, two shots firing off from his hand.

You squirm, shouting at him, and he claps a hand over your mouth, pulling you along with him. He drags you all the way back to the house, even after you stop resisting.

You disappear up the stairs the minute he lets go, and he watches you. He waits a few moments before following you, biting the inside of his cheek.

He finds you in Chan’s room, sitting on the bed cross legged, staring forlornly at the stained wooden boards.

“I know you’re hurting. It hurts for me too. But don’t take it out on me. Please.” Mingyu whispers from the doorway, and when you look up, he slowly walks over, sitting beside you carefully. “And I’m not tired of being alone.” He adds on quietly. “I’ve always had you.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m really glad to have you by my side. Honestly. I just… I miss Chan. I miss everyone.” You lean on his shoulder tiredly.

“I know.” Mingyu says softly. “I know.”

He interlocks his fingers with yours, squeezing once.

“But there’ll be a time when we can be back together again.”

                                                 ♜ ♜ ♜

It’s late springtime when they start to come home.

The air is warm, a gentle breeze often caressing your cheeks, and the sun lingers longer, a telltale sign of the upcoming summer.

It was a long ideal, letters taking weeks to send and the whereabouts of each group or person completely in the hands, or wings, of Joshua’s pigeons.

You’re pinning laundry to the clothesline when Mingyu thunders down the stairs, flying past you from the hallway.

“What’s going on?” You call, eyebrows furrowed concernedly, and he skids back, a grin curving beautifully across his face.

“Someone’s here.”

Dropping whatever was in your hands, you race after him, and you can’t help but break into an identical grin as you see Wonwoo and Jihoon stepping onto the porch. You both stand opposite each other from the doorway, until Wonwoo speaks drily.

“Long time no see.”

“No shit.” Mingyu laughs, striding to give them both a hug, and you join them, cheeks hurting from your joy. Jihoon even returns the embrace.

Minghao shows up that night, seeing him in the dim distance as you light the lanterns on the porch, calling the rest of them who are catching up over the dinner table.

“Nice to see you again.” Minghao smiles warmly, genuinely happy, and you’re all eager to throw your arms around him. “Alright, alright.” He giggles softly, nodding as he pries you off, walking inside and joining the group.

Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Joshua are the last, appearing the next morning, just before the sun rises, with Mingyu, Jihoon, and Wonwoo still sound asleep, Minghao making tea for you and him.

“You’re awake early.”

“So are you.” He states pointedly by the kettle, and you smile. “Dreams?”

Your expression turns solemn at that, and you nod. Minghao pours the steaming liquid carefully, sliding the cup to you before he speaks again.

“I see Junhui most nights. Sometimes it’s nice. A good memory. Like when he let the chickens fly away because he thought they couldn’t fly. Or just the sound of his laugh. And sometimes…” Minghao hesitates, swallowing harshly. “Sometimes it’s me pulling the trigger over and over.”

You don’t realize you’re crying until Minghao hands you a tissue, and you brush at the wetness on your cheeks gently.

“Thank you.”

He smiles, a bit melancholy, and rises, beckoning you to the porch to watch the sunrise, hands wrapped around the warm mugs. You sit and wait in comfortable silence until it’s broken by a rumble of an engine pulling up.

“Surprise!”

“Joshua Hong, what the fuck!” You yelp, standing incredulously as they step out of the car. “Is that really you?”

“The one and only.”

“I mean this in the most admirable way possible, your arms are huge.”

“Not bigger than me.” Seungcheol grins, and both of them flex, Seungcheol burying his head in his hands embarrassedly afterwards as everyone laughs.

“Yes, we get it, but without me, no matter how many muscles, you’d probably be dead.” Jeonghan drawls, slinging his arms around their shoulders. “Did you guys have breakfast yet?”

“Not even a hello?” You laugh, the others join you as bickering breaks out, and when the dawning sunlight floods through the windows, something inside you feels like the last piece has fitted in your soul, finally complete.

                                                 ♜ ♜ ♜

“What would you say if I went away for a little bit?”

Mingyu brings it up over washing dishes, the rush of running tap water almost drowning out his nervous inquiry. You don’t pause in your drying of a plate, yet you wonder if he can see the way your hands tremble.

It’s been a few months since Chan was buried next to Soonyoung, and you were doing better. Slowly, like honey trickling down the beehive on the old maple in the backyard, the result of hard labour like the bustling bees.

“A little bit? Or a while?”

“I don’t know yet.” He admits, and you swallow.

“Will you be okay?”

“Will you?” He asks in response, and you exhale.

“I think so.”

Turning off the water, Mingyu flicks the water off his hands into the sink, and then taps your cheek to make you look at him.

“I want you to be sure that you’ll be okay.”

“I will be.” You say more strongly this time, almost like a resolution to yourself, and MIngyu’s gaze lingers, before it drops with a nod.

“Okay.”

“When will you leave?”

“Tomorrow morning probably.” He laughs, but it sounds forced. “I don’t have many things.”

You nod, smiling weakly.

“Okay.”

He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it. You finish doing the dishes in silence.

                                                 ♜ ♜ ♜

Noise becomes a constant in the house, or outside of it, as the days get warmer and more hours are spent in the sun.

Today was no different, Seungcheol, Wonwoo, Jihoon, and Mingyu washing the car, while Minghao and Jeonghan sat with you on the porch watching them.

“So.” Minghao starts, and you raise your eyebrows.

“So.”

“You and Mingyu?”

“What about me and Mingyu?”

“God, I’ve been waiting for years for you idiots to realize, and you’re telling me it still hasn’t happened?” Jeonghan sputters, and Minghao snorts.

“Something had to have happened.” Minghao agrees.

“I can't say if it was something or not.” You admit quietly.

“But it wasn’t nothing.” Minghao implores knowingly, and you lapse into silence.

                                                 ♜ ♜ ♜

You’re awoken by a pounding at your bedroom door the same night. It ceases for a few seconds, making you think you’re dreaming until it starts up again.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” You shout, untangling your body from the mess of tossed covers, and you can’t help but feel irritated even if there was any threat of danger. You don’t bother turning on the lights, the moonlight bright enough. Throwing open the door, you glare at a disheveled Mingyu, as if he ran his hands through his hair too many times. “What?”

“I need to tell you something.”

“This couldn’t wait until the morning?” You gripe, and MIngyu’s face falls, and you realize it couldn’t wait till the last moment before he left. You soften, slightly ashamed. “What is it?”

“You’re my best friend. You know that right?”

The words sting, and you’re not entirely sure why, but you nod.

“I know.”

Mingyu swallows. His hands flutter at his sides, uncertain, and you can’t help but feel the same at his behaviour.

“Mingyu, what’s-”

His lips fall onto yours, you think that’s the only explanation, but they’re soft, gentle, in a way that encompasses you with warmth and you can’t help falling into the embrace.

“You’re my best friend.” He whispers between kisses, over and over, and the words take on a new meaning with the tender look in his eyes as you fall back onto your bed. “You know that right? Tell me you know.”

“I know ‘Gyu. I know.” You murmur breathlessly, cupping his face, and the moon seems to shine just for him.

You knew Kim Mingyu in the sun like it was his natural element. But Kim Mingyu in the moon was like the supernatural, silver stealing across his jaw, his biceps, shoulder blades, every sharp and smooth curve that had you in its deadly soft clutches.

But it was still Mingyu. Your Mingyu. Your best friend.

                                                 ♜ ♜ ♜

“Morning.”

Mingyu chimes cheerily, ambling into your room and drawing the blinds back, sunlight blinding your groggy state.

“Mingyu, what the fuck?”

“Jeonghan said we can borrow the car for the day.” Mingyu swings the keys from his hand excitedly. “I may or may not have woken him up to ask so he didn’t care, but still.”

“To do what?”

“Roadtrip.” Mingyu shrugs, smiling, as if to say what else? “I’ll meet you downstairs in ten minutes.”

You use an old map from the dusty attic space, tracing a route to the beach, and packing some sandwiches along. It’s soothing, the wind flowing through the rolled down windows, Mingyu’s old sunglasses perched on his nose as he drives and sings to some random song that resurfaced in his memory.

He sets up the blanket and basket of food while you stand at the tip of where the tide came in, watching the lulling waves roll.

“What’re you thinking about?” He huffs, tucking his hands in his pockets as he stands next to you, glancing at your solemn features.

“Do you remember,” you start just as Mingyu’s about to repeat his question, “that night?”

“You’ve gotta be a little more specific there.”

“The night before you left.”

Mingyu stares out across the water, wind ruffling his hair.

“Yeah.” He answers simply.

“Why me?” You blurt.

“What?”

“You could have had anyone, so why me?”

Mingyu knows you’re not talking only about that night now, but the entirety of your existence together. Maybe it was the fate of next door neighbours. Maybe it was the fact of the Apocalypse that numbers had strength. Or maybe…

“Because you’re the only one I want, you always have been. Is that really so hard to believe?”

“A little.” You whisper, and Mingyu looks at you finally.

“I’ll be by your side as long as I can. You don’t have to return anything. Just let me do that and I’ll be happy.”

“Then why did you leave that time?”

“Because I was scared. I couldn’t help but think that one of us might get the Virus. Then… I don’t think I would have been able to do it.” He admits, kicking at the sand lightly.

“You’re stupid.”

“Thanks.” Mingyu snorts sarcastically, and you sigh.

“You’re stupid to think that I wouldn’t want you by my side always. You’re stupid to think I depend on you too much, because people need to depend on each other. And… and you’re stupid to think I don’t love you.”

“You don’t make any sense.” He shakes his head, but he’s chuckling softly.

“You’re my best friend. You know that right?”

You clasp his hand firmly, looking at him, and he returns your gaze, slowly tugging him close. You press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and they curve upwards gently as he murmurs.

“I know.”

♜ taglist: @seijoh​ @soranihimawari​ @peachy-yabbay​

#caratwritersclub #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu imagines #mingyu x you #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu imagines #kim mingyu scenarios #svt x you #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #tw suicide #suicide tw

[timelordthirteen]

Desperate Souls 3/?

Mr. Gold/BelleFrench, Explicit

Summary: A broke and heartbroken Belle French comes to an agreement with Mr. Gold to do a little modeling, just for him, in exchange for the money she desperately needs, but it isn’t long before they both realize they’ve made a deal they didn’t understand. Based on this prompt.

Chapter Summary: The first evening at Gold's goes unexpectedly for Belle.

Notes: And here we go... ;) This got very long which I guess is what I get for trying to cram too much in. Chapter 4 is in progress. This is what Belle wears. And yes I have images for everything.

[AO3]

Belle spent the next week trying not to think about her deal with Gold.

Every time she looked out the library window at the pawn shop, or saw him walking down the street, she could feel her ears burning and a flush creep up her neck. Monday, she picked up the money for the ring, such as it was, and nothing had been said on the matter, except to agree on seven o’clock as the time she should arrive at his house. It was said almost as an afterthought, after the sales receipt had been written out and the cash was in her hand. She was so focused on the existence of their agreement at all, that she hadn’t given any thought to the fact that she didn’t know when she was supposed to show up.

Wednesday morning they were both in Granny’s diner at the same time getting coffee. He said good morning to her as he went to leave, very nonchalantly, very I am not paying you to model your lingerie for me, and she completely mishandled the change Ruby was giving her, spilling half of it into her purse and the other half on the floor. Of course he was out the door by the time the last quarter fell.

But now the day was here, and she couldn’t ignore the inevitable anymore.

She closed the library at five, and went up to her apartment to shower. The new shelving had arrived for the children’s section resulting in her spending much of the day crouching down on the dusty floor reorganizing everything. It was tiring work, but satisfying, and she couldn’t wait to unveil all the updates that had been done since the section was closed a couple of months ago. Her excitement for that was , unfortunately, tempered by what was about to occur as soon as she realized what time it was.

Belle didn’t know how one should dress for such a thing. Since she hoped the whole event would be just a quick in and out, she opted for a comfortable navy sweater dress and a pair of leggings, which she thought would be fairly easy and quick to take off and put back on. As soon as the idea of taking off her clothes hit her, her stomach dropped to the bottom of her black ankle boots.

Fuck.

She closed her eyes and took a slow breath, in and out. The sick feeling faded, but she started to wonder if she should even go through with it. Gold was paying a substantial amount of money, and on paper it seemed simple: show up, put on some fancy underwear, get paid, and go home. Except every single part of that sounded like exactly what a prostitute did. While she was fully supportive of sex work from a feminist perspective, it was absolutely not something she wanted to do herself.

Yet she felt like she was about to, in a way, and it made her wonder what was in it for Gold. She didn’t really know that much about it, apart from the fact that he was rich and everyone thought he was a jerk to varying degrees. Her limited interactions with him had always been very cordial, and while he seemed a bit eccentric and reserved, he was also intelligent and sharply funny. The first time she’d met him, right before she’d interviewed for the position at the library, he’d made her laugh. Five minutes later, when she found out he was part of the town council’s hiring committee, she’d been terrified that she was already out of the running. He didn’t ask her a single question, yet at the end everyone had looked at him as if he alone held the deciding vote.

Congratulations, Miss French.

That was all he’d said, and it was done; she was hired. The whole thing had been surreal, and now somehow her current situation made it even more so. Had he set his sights on her back then? Had he been waiting the past four years for a moment when she would need something from him to do - what? None of it made any sense.

Sighing, Belle checked herself one last time in the mirror on the back of her bedroom door, and then picked up her purse. It was time to do the brave thing.

Gold’s house was on a dead end lane not far from the library.

Everyone knew which one was his, the pink Victorian with the wide front porch that sat between two stately trees on a small bump of a hill. It seemed set apart from all the other houses, both because of the wide, deep lot in which it was built, and because of the almost ominous way it loomed over the other homes. It seemed to project its owner’s presence, and Belle shivered.

She carefully picked her way up the front sidewalk, her hands clenched into fists inside her coat pockets as she wondered what piece he had picked for her to wear. There were a couple of items she’d special ordered that were more on the risque side of the spectrum, things that were more personal to her, things that she liked for herself, not just to wear for someone else. Faced with the prospect of wearing them for Gold, she felt strange, as if a part of her might be exposed in a way that had nothing to do with how much of her bare skin was showing.

She paused at the door, repeating her mantra to do the brave thing, before she raised her hand and knocked. Her arrival was earlier than they’d discussed, only a few minutes after six, but she couldn’t sit in her apartment another second. Hopefully Gold wouldn't mind her desire to get things over with as quick as possible.

The delay before Gold opened the door felt interminable, but then a warm glow was spilling onto the porch, and she caught a whiff of something that made her inhale sharply. The scent was rich and familiar. It made her mouth water, and it took her a moment to realize it was the smell of food cooking.

“Miss French,” Gold said, breathlessly. He looked down at her and frowned. “You’re early.”

Belle forced a smile and shrugged. “Sorry, I was just sitting around at home and thought...why not just get it over with?”

His expression changed in a way she couldn’t read, but then he stepped back and held open the door. “Please, come in.”

The foyer was high and surprisingly bright, with a large, wrought iron chandelier that looked like something that belonged in the Middle Ages. In front of her was a short hallway that appeared to lead to the kitchen from which the aforementioned delicious smell was emanating. To the left was a sitting room, and to the right was the staircase, and while he was busy shutting the door behind her, she was busy...staring.

“May I take your coat?” Gold’s voice startled her, and she spun around to find him looking at her curiously.

She swallowed and nodded, and then handed it over, watching as he hung it on a set of hooks inside the door. Then he turned to her with a faint smile and his hands folded over the handle of his cane. Abruptly, she noticed that he was without his usual suit jacket, and instead was in just a checked dress shirt with a solid color tie. It was disarmingly casual.

“I was just making some dinner,” he said. “Since you’re early, I suppose you can join me, if you like.”

Belle blinked. Dinner. Dinner was so...normal. Dinner was a thing she did on dates before she let someone see her in her underwear, which was not what this was. But at the very mention of food, the scent wafted in from the kitchen once more, and she realized how hungry she was. She hadn’t had anything to eat since lunch, which she barely picked at anyway as her nerves about tonight grew and grew.

“Uh, yeah, o-okay,” she managed.

At that, Gold’s lips curved a bit more, and he motioned with a hand in the direction of the kitchen. She turned and walked ahead of him, her hand tight on her purse strap, as if she expected him to attack her or hit her over the head with something at a moment’s notice. It was ridiculous, she knew that, but the situation was ridiculous, and clearly her nerves were still getting the better of her.

The kitchen was quite well appointed and large, with a wide gas stove top set in an island with three bar stools at one end. Delicate pendants hung over the span of dark granite, an old fashioned style with those bare filament bulbs and a dark metal finish around the top. Her eyes darted around the space as Gold went to work at the stove. There was a pot of something bubbling away, and when he removed the lid, the room flooded with the scent. She let out a sound that was half contented hum, half moan at the enticing aroma, as she leaned forward over the edge of the counter.

He gave the contents of the pot a stir, and then retrieved two plates from a cabinet along with silverware from a nearby drawer. In a matter of a minute or two, he had dished up two servings of some sort of stew over a pile of fluffy mashed potatoes. She could see bits of beef, carrot, and pearl onions in a fragrant gravy, and her stomach rumbled loudly.

Gold glanced at her, eyebrows lifted. “The dining room is through there, if you’d like to have a seat,” he said, with a nod towards a room off the kitchen. “I’ll just be a moment.”

Without a word, she picked up her plate and utensils, and made her way through into the dining room. It was a long, narrow space that connected back around to the sitting room at the front of the house. There was a sizable table in the center with a total of six chairs, and an old fireplace on the outside wall that had been retrofitted with a gas insert. It was giving off a soothing heat, and she sighed as she came around the table. She set her plate down and leaned her elbows on the table, resting her head on her folded hands, breathing slow and deep as the fire warmed her back.

“Alright?”

Belle looked up and then straightened, nodding as Gold came into the room, his plate in his free hand, and a bottle of wine tucked under his arm. “Yeah,” she said. “Fine.”

He returned to the kitchen to fetch two glasses, and came back a moment later to take the seat directly across from her. “Drink?”

She nodded dazedly, though whether that was because of lack of food, or because it was entirely too surreal that she was having dinner with Mr. Gold, in his house, which he himself had cooked, she couldn’t say.

“Beef burgundy,” he said as he popped the cork from the bottle and poured some wine into each glass. “Seemed like the thing for a cold winter night.”

“So you’re Julia Child?” She said it without thinking, and for a second she was worried he wouldn’t find it funny, but then he grinned crookedly.

“Hardly. But I think I do well enough.”

A half hour or so later, Belle would have to say that Gold did more than well enough. The best meal she’d had in ages, it was altogether warm and earthy, with beef so tender that it fell apart under the weight of her fork. The potatoes were the perfect thing to hold all the delicious bits of vegetables together, and scoop up the gravy which was made rich with red wine and bits of bacon. She set her fork down with a light clatter against the plate, and tossed back the last swallow of wine in her glass, which she was quite certain was a brand and vintage that cost at least half a day’s pay.

The thing that surprised her the most, aside from the delightful explosion of garlic with every bite of mushroom, was that they’d managed to fill the silence with something resembling actual conversation. It was mostly about food and cooking, something about which Gold seemed quite passionate and opinionated, but it flowed well, and for a time she forgot that this wasn’t a dinner between acquaintances. It was a business transaction, and too soon the food and wine were gone, and she started anticipating having to keep up her end of things.

She helped Gold clear the table, but he shooed her from the kitchen before long, sending her to the study. The room had double french doors at the entrance, a high ceiling, and a stone fireplace that would have matched well with the chandelier in the foyer in a fourteenth century castle. A rush of warmth washed over her as she opened the doors, and she smiled as she looked around. Flanking either side of the fireplace were floor to ceiling bookshelves, that contained all manner of books and collections, as well a small, but well stocked, wet bar. There was a large mahogany desk at one end of the room where a bank of windows looked out onto the backyard, and at the other was a wide china cabinet with even more little treasures.

Two high back upholstered chairs sat to either side of the fireplace, with a large rectangular ottoman in tufted leather that seemed to take the place of a standard coffee table. There was a sofa as well, facing the hearth, that matched the ottoman. The walls were wallpapered, but framed art of all kinds, hung on every one of them, and above the fireplace mantle was an appropriately sized television. A professional designer would probably find it an eclectic mess, but Belle thought it was cozy and charming, exactly the sort of room that one wanted to relax in while the wind howled and the snow fell.

She was just about to peruse Gold’s collection of books when he appeared in the doorway. “It’s after seven.”

His expression was more subdued than when they were eating, and she swallowed hard, feeling the abrupt shift in the tone of the evening.

“Right,” she said, willing her stomach not to give up the food she’d just consumed. “Where should I -?”

“There’s a powder room through there, just before you get to the kitchen,” he replied. “You’ll find what you need in there.”

And there it was.

The facade that had been in place during their meal had lifted, and Gold was back to being Gold. Standing with his hands folded on his cane and with his suit jacket in place, he was, as always, impeccable and imperceptible. She couldn’t pretend this was anything else but what it was, and the uncomfortable knot in her throat returned as she passed by him.

The half bath was located under the stairs, and though a wall somewhere had been adjusted to accommodate it, the slant of the ceiling made it feel smaller than it was. The odd shadows cast by the sconces over the sink, and the way the toilet was tucked into an angled niche, made it feel like a cell in a dungeon.

Belle stepped inside, closed the door, and froze. Hanging on a brass hook on the back of the door was the black chemise she’d brandished in his shop. It was fairly tame as such things went, being plain black silk with lace trim adorning the edge of the bust and hem. The most tantalizing thing about it was the spaghetti straps, and some of her anxiety was alleviated by the fact that he had chosen the least revealing thing in the collection. Of course that meant there were plenty of scandalous items left to embarrass her.

There was a set of metal shelves to the left of the pedestal sink, containing a basket of extra toilet paper, and a bottle of hand soap. She set her purse down on one of the free shelves at the bottom, and then sat down on the closed lid of the toilet to take her boots off. Midway through unzipping the first one, it dawned on her that she didn’t have anything to wear on her feet. Of course on her honeymoon that wasn’t such a big deal, though a few items she’d planned to pair with some sexy heels. She sat for a long moment contemplating what to do, and finally shook her head. Bare feet would have to do, and if Gold didn’t like it, well that was his problem. He was getting what he paid for and no more.

As Belle pulled her sweater dress up over her head, she wondered if she should have asked him for a contract. But that would have meant a paper trail that said she was selling her lingerie clad body to Gold. Proof was the last thing she needed, though she supposed he could be planning to take pictures of her or something equally damning. There were rumors that he’d blackmailed the former mayor, but it was so many years ago now that no one really knew for sure.

She stripped off the rest of her clothes and hastily folded them before setting them on the shelf next to her purse. Then she removed the chemise from the hanger and slipped it over her head, the cool silk skimming down her bare body and making her shiver. After a moment’s hesitation, she firmly decided she was keeping her panties on for this one. They weren’t visible through the material of the chemise, and were a similar black with lace trim style.

Turning to the door, she caught her reflection in the brass framed mirror above the sink, and paused. The chemise wasn’t form fitting or clingy, but like most things made of silk and lace it didn’t leave a lot to the imagination. Still, it wasn’t that much more revealing than her favorite blue sundress as far as cut and material went.

And yet it was.

It was an undergarment she had purchased for the sole purpose of wearing it as a preamble to sex. It was a statement, an invitation.

Belle forced her eyes away from the mirror and took a breath as she opened the powder room door. The hallway was chilly, and she shivered again as her bare feet made contact with the cold wood floor. She was grateful that the study was so warm, and wondering if he’d planned it so, starting a fire and closing the doors to keep the heat in. It was strangely thoughtful, which was as incongruous with what she knew about Mr. Gold as much as the fact that he’d served her dinner.

Shaking her head, she made herself step forward and then around the corner, heading back down the short hallway. The faint draft from the front door brushed across her, raising goosebumps on her arms, legs, and - elsewhere. She stopped just before the threshold of the study and looked down to see the front of the chemise doing nothing to hide her pebbled nipples. With a roll of her eyes, she pushed open one of the french doors, and stepped into the room.

Gold was seated in one of the chairs, facing the door, and Belle could feel his eyes on her as soon as she came into view. She tried not to look at him as she made her way around the end of the sofa, but when she reached the ottoman, it became almost impossible. Her eyes lifted and met his, and for a long moment she felt frozen in place.

The side of her that was near to the fire was quite warm, but the other side was still chilled from the hallway. She felt another tingle of goosebumps across her skin, and clenched her jaw to keep from looking down at herself lest she draw his attention to the obvious.

Gold’s eyes were dark, his features shadowed by the glow of the fireplace, but she knew instinctively that his gaze was traveling up and down her body, taking in every inch of her. He was reclined casually, right leg crossed over the left, and his elbows on the arms of the chair as she stood just a few feet in front of him. The handle of his cane glinted in the low light, and she had the absurd impression that this might be what meeting the Devil was like.

“Mr. Gold?” she said quietly.

He shifted in his seat and let his eyes bore straight into hers for a long moment before he raised a hand and made a circular motion with one long finger. “Turn around.”

She suppressed a shiver at the low, soft tone of his voice, and the way it made his accent heavier. Slowly, she pivoted on her heel, shifting her feet until she had turned in a complete circle. When she faced him again, his expression had changed slightly, his lips parted as he breathed out a whispered lovely. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to hear it, so she said nothing.

Then he licked at his bottom lip and then gave her a small smile. “Would you pour me a drink?”

Belle blinked, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly.

“Scotch,” he added, indicating the area to the right of the fireplace that she’d noticed earlier. “Neat.”

“Yeah,” she finally managed, “sure.”

She turned and moved to the bar, where she found a short, cut crystal glass and a tall bottle with a name she recognized. It was probably from one of the locked boxes wine and liquor stores usually kept the expensive brands in, the brands where if you had to ask how much the bottle cost you probably couldn’t afford it. Of course Gold was a scotch man. Neat suit, neat scotch, and her lips twitched in odd amusement as she poured the drink.

A heady, earthy scent wafted up from the glass as she picked it up and carried over to where Gold was sitting. She walked by the ottoman and came to stand at the arm of the chair where there was a small side table. He lifted his hand, and she placed the glass in it, but as he lowered it back to the arm of the chair, his knuckles just barely brushed the black silk covering her thigh.

She stepped back quickly, her breath catching and her eyes going wide, but his face betrayed nothing. It was as if he hadn’t noticed, much less done it intentionally, and she exhaled in relief.

“Thank you, Miss French.” He took a small sip of the scotch, his gaze fixed on her over the rim of the glass, and then set the drink down. “Would you like one?”

Belle shook her head. “No thanks.”

“Very well then.”

His words felt final, and when he looked away from her, she knew her task was done. There was something strange about it, dismissive, and it left her unsettled. She hurried back to the powder room, and changed back into her sweater dress and leggings. She was overly warm by the time she was done, and blew a breath upwards at her forehead, ruffling her hair. Unsure of what to do with the chemise, she put it back on the hanger and left it on the back of the door. They hadn’t discussed whether she should take the lingerie back or not. If she kept it, she planned to throw it all in the dumpster with the rest of the remnants of her relationship with Garrett, but what use would it be to Gold?

That was a line of thinking she didn’t want to pursue.

When she came out of the bathroom, Gold was nowhere to be seen, but she could hear music coming from the direction of the study. She went to retrieve her coat, and when she turned around to put it on, there he was, with a yellow mailing envelope in his free hand. He waited while she put her coat and gloves on, and then handed her the envelope. It was a noticeable thickness to the contents, and her heart rate increased as she felt the rectangular shape of what was inside. He’d paid her in cash, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever held that much money at one time.

“I thought it was best not to have a paper trail” he said, once again folding his hands over his cane. “I assure you it’s all there.”

She gave him a brief nod before she tucked it in her purse. “I believe you.”

One of his eyebrows lifted at that, but he otherwise remained passive as he pulled open the front door. “Good night, Miss French.”

“Good night, Mr. Gold.”

She stepped out onto the porch, the chilly air a welcome relief on her face, but then he leaned out to add, “Do be on time next week.”

She nodded again, and then turned away, hurrying down the steps before he had closed the door. Nothing he’d done was impolite or disrespectful, and indeed she had to admit that the majority of the evening was actually quite pleasant, if also a touch awkward. Yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes on her. There was a crawling sensation on her skin that made her itch, and all she wanted was to get home and take another shower.

Gold sighed and walked back into the study, leaning heavily on his cane.

He had immediately shed his suit jacket and tie after closing the front door, leaving them draped over the end of the banister to be taken upstairs when he went to bed. Reaching up, he popped the top two buttons on his dress shirt, but he still felt like he couldn’t breathe. The scotch wasn’t helping as it usually did, but he picked up the glass and took a large swallow before dropping down into the chair.

His eyes closed as he leaned back, conjuring the image of Belle French standing in his room in a silky black slip. The length had been demure, the lace no more than a pretty adornment, but it still affected him more than he anticipated. She was as lovely as he knew she would be, and clearly nervous.

Opening his eyes, he sighed again and stared into the fire.

Of course she was anxious about the situation, he was taking advantage of her, having her parade around wearing next to nothing while he watched like a lecherous bastard. It was perhaps the most selfish and base thing he’d ever done, but the moment when she’d looked at him, covered in soft silk and lace, half curious and half afraid, he’d felt a rush of excitement unlike anything he’d felt in years. It was delight and desire and depravity all in one. He shifted in his seat as the sensation washed over him again. When it was over, it would be final. He knew she would likely never speak to him again, but for this short time, one night a week, for as long as her collection of unmentionables lasted, she was his.

The fire snapped loudly, shaking him from his fantasy. He took up his cane and stood abruptly, deciding to forgo a second drink in favor of a cold shower and an early bedtime.

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #belle x mr. gold #my rumbelle fic #fic #desperate souls #lemon fic

[thelordofdarkreunion]

Magnificent Scoundrels- Battle Above the Citadel

While the battle on the ground rages on, the battle in space is a bit more... lopsided.  This me giving you the contents of a space battle and how the different factions operate.  Hope you like it.

“There is nothing as beautiful and deadly as a battleship’s broadside.”

Aboard the Chimaera 

Captain Faro paced on the sleek black deck of the Chimaera’s bridge.  Her gloved hands clasped neatly behind her back, green uniform immaculately pressed, and brown hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, she was every inch the model Imperial Navy officer, inside and outside.  Grand Admiral Thrawn had personally chosen her to command his ship after his elevation to the rank of Admiral, and she had not let him down once.  Today would be no exception.  

The chatter of various deck officers, stationed below her, reached her ears.  The attacking fleet was within range.  She allowed herself a small smile.  Good.

“TIEs are to retain holding patterns around the fleet.  I do not want them out there unsupported,” she said.  The TIE Wing Commander nodded his ascent.  

“Yes, Captain,” he replied.  She turned to the other divot in the command deck where additional officers were stationed.

“Gunnery Officer?”

“Yes, Captain?”

“Are the main batteries in range,” she asked.  Of course, she already knew the answer.  

“Yes, Captain,” saluted the Gunnery Officer.  She gave a slight nod.

“You may fire when ready.”  Nothing more was needed from her.  Both she and Thrawn ran a tight ship.  The comms chatter of the gunnery officers and mates reached her ears.  

“Main batteries in range,” reported the Gunnery Chief of the four massive starboard turbo-laser batteries.  

“You may fire when ready,” replied the Gunnery Officer.

“Secondary batteries in range,” reported a Gunnery Mate.

“You may fire when ready.”  Not a single ounce of emotion in the Gunnery Officer’s voice.  Faro nodded her approval.

“Tertiary batteries in range.”

“Hold fire until you reach optimal range.”

“Point defense batteries out of range.”  No surprise there.  Not a single ship of the attack fleet seemed to want to close distance with the three massive Star Destroyers.  Pity, actually.  Then again, no sane commander of a capital ship would ever want to go broadside to broadside with an Imperial Star Destroyer…  Faro was snapped out of her tangent by the voice of the Gunnery Chief over the comms.  

“Starboard turbo-lasers: commence firing.  Target: frigate-class ship designate target delta five-zero-oh.”  

The four massive turrets rotated slightly in their stations, locking on to a pitifully small ship in the distance.  Captain Faro felt her pulse rise slightly.  There was nothing, nothing, that could compare to the full might of a Destroyer’s guns tearing into enemies.  

 With a suddenness that astounded, the turbo-lasers spat green bolts of death into the void.  The four gun barrels of each turret fired only once, as the bolts travelled with a speed that astounded to their targets.  They passed through the frigate’s shields as if they did not exist, straight through the ship’s sturdy armor plating, and blew it apart.  There was no need for a second volley.  The frigate ceased to exist with only one.  

Faro sighed to herself.  This was unbecoming of a Destroyer Captain of her stature.  Swatting flies with guns powerful enough to melt moons.  Ridiculous.  Still, it was what Grand Admiral Thrawn commanded, and so it was done without question or hesitation.

Aboard the Enterprise

Spock watched with fascination as the combined fleets of the various governments present at the Citadel engaged the enemy.  It was… ridiculously easy, to put it bluntly.  This mass of disorganized attackers in all sorts of mis-matched ships were no contest for the pride of at least fifteen galaxy-spanning navies.  He only gave the occasional command to the bridge crew.  They did their jobs well; not much need for direction.  What he was interested in was how each of the different navies fought and how their starships worked.  

He saw the Normandy zip through space with all the elegance of a fighter craft.  Sleek and elegant, it fired a twin pair of cannons mounted beneath the hull, promptly vaporizing an attacking ship.  The navies of the Citadel races kept their distance, using tactics similar to Starfleet ones.  Spock nodded his silent approval.  The weapons from this galaxy were all railgun types, if, of course, a railgun could ever describe something as sophisticated and powerful as an Element Zero mass-driven weapon.  From what Spock understood, they used this Element Zero to propel small particles at astounding speeds, quite similar in theory as a railgun.  Their ships, thus, used massive kinetic barrier shields, designed to stop physical projectiles.

That particular type of shielding came at a massive disadvantage when facing the heavy laser batteries of Imperial and New Republic ships, though.  The weapons from that particular galaxy all used ionized gasses to create powerful lasers, which completely ignored physical shields.  Spock winced as the main batteries of the Chimaera fired, promptly vaporizing a fair sized attacking starship.  The two were distinctly different, he mused, with one using all physical weapons and the other using only energy weapons.  The shields of the vessels from that galaxy were only designed to stop energy weapons, something that came back to bite them when the heavy guns of one of the larger attacking ships scoured twin holes in the flank of a Destroyer.  Didn’t put it out of commission, though.  You’d need a lot more firepower to do that.  

The starships of the UNSC, Galactic Assembly and the singular Apocalypse seemed to operate on very similar principles.  They had physical shields, and the ships from both galaxies used long range rail- and coil-guns in tandem with heavy missile batteries.  Not quite as effective as the massive turbo-lasers at blowing the hell out of genetically-shielded starships, but it worked.  

Then, of course, there was the Watch Eternal.  Unlike the sleek and lighting-quick ships of the Citadel, or the technological masterworks of the Starfleet, or the heavy energy weapons of the New Republic or the Galactic Empire, or, even, the balanced yet deadly payloads of the UNSC, GA, or Merchant's Guild, the massive, cathedral-like behemoth operated on one principle, and one principle only: sheer, unaldurated power.  There were no quirks, no tactics, no maneuverability, only power on a level that simply astounded the Enterprise’s First Officer.  He had watched all the different ships of the allied fleets, taking readings from all of them and observing what they could do.  When the Eternal had raised shields, several of the bridge crews’ mouths had dropped open.  The wattage that had gone into those shields was more than some of the Starfleet ships could get from their reactors, period.  The shields themselves were not sleek, or designed to hug every curve of the ship.  Instead, they were a massive bubble of energy, projected into the space around the ship, designed to deflect physical projectiles, energy projectiles, and enemy sensor readings alike.  Spock looked over at the belfries and massive Aquilia statues with distaste.  He did not like the ship, nor the government it was in service to, but he could not deny it was, in a brutish, barbarian way, very deadly.   

Aboard the Watch Eternal

Captain Striecher sat on his command throne, as he had every day for the past five decades.  His physical body had almost wasted away, only surviving through the nutrients he took in from the tubes connecting him to the ship.  His physical body, however, did not matter.  His mind could see every system, every weapon, every inch of the mighty starship’s systems and control them with merely a thought.  He was in his element.  

Void shields online.  Long range macro-cannons online and operating at full capacity.  Point defense macro-cannons online and operating at full capacity.  Starboard broadside lance batteries online and fully operational.  Port broadside lance batteries online and fully operational.  Forward heavy lances online and fully operational.  Torpedoes loaded.  Heavy missile batteries online, loaded, and locked onto targets.  Underside macro-cannons, torpedo tubes, and lance batteries online and ready for orbital bombardment.  He took in all of this at once, and discarded it.  The Inquisitors wanted something more than the simple destruction of the attacking fleet.  They wanted information.  

Striecher mentally activated the multi-faction comms channel that the Scoundrels were oh-so helpful to set up.  

“All ships, this is the Watch Eternal.  Do not fire upon the flagship of the attacking fleet.  That one is ours,” he commanded.  His voice was the one part of his body that he did not allow to wither.  He still needed it.  A chorus of acknowledgements came through the channel, some rather confused.  It didn’t matter.  No one would fire on the cruiser that served as the attacking fleet’s flagship.  

Deep in the bowels of the massive ship, Watch Captain Kaes and his Kill Team stood in the teleportarium.  A dozen serfs and tech-priests tended to the esoteric machines in the room.  The lighting was dim, but such trivialities did not bother the transhuman super-soldiers of the Deathwatch or their augmented servants.  

“We teleport in, get the data from the enemy flagship’s cognators, as per the Inquisitors’ instructions, then teleport out.  Anyone aboard the ship is to be terminated on sight.  Clear?”  The room shook with the acknowledgements of a dozen voices, amplified through their power armor.  

“Clear!”  

“Good.”  The Captain turned to the lead tech-priest.  “Magos.  We stand ready.”  The blank faceplate of the techpriest nodded back.  

“May the Omnissiah bless your endeavour.”  The priest (Kaes couldn’t tell if it was originally a man or woman beneath the robes and augmetics and suspected it didn’t really matter) turned and flipped a heavy switch.  “Stand by to teleport.”  

Aboard the Beyond

Captain Melos chewed his lower lip nervously as he watched the attack fleet, his fleet, get completely annihilated.  He was chosen to lead this assault, and, dammit, he was failing.   The Beyond was a powerful cruiser, built in secret, thought to be powerful enough to lead the assault force to take on the Citadel Fleet.  Only, the Fleet had been beefed up by Commander John bloody Shepard.  Even then, he might have confused them enough to have the ground agents on the Citadel take over, but no.  There were at least thirty starships that could match or outgun his beloved Beyond, not counting the trimultive of triangular super-dreadnaughts or the utterly massive cathedral… thing.  Dammit.  

Melos’s fleet was in ruins.  He would not be pleased.  Melos didn’t know what he would tell him.  Hopefully he would be merciful… but mercy wouldn’t count for much if Melos was dead in the first place.  He was about to turn to his crew, to tell them to get out of Citadel space, when a strange feeling overtook him.  It was like the pressure before a thunderstorm, only much, much worse.  Several of his lieutenants blinked heavily or clutched their heads at the unexpected feeling, seeking to dispel it.  It lasted only for a moment, then…

A massive crack of displacing air sounded, and suddenly, there was a group of giants in their midst.  At least eight feet tall, they all wore heavy black armor and clutched various, utterly terrifying weapons.  Red lenses swept the bridge crew for a moment, and, before anyone could react, the giants lept into action.  Two leapt left, two right, moving faster than anything that big had any right to.  They lashed out with swords of all things, energy fields crackling around blades and horrible chain-teeth whirring.  The bridge crew died in seconds, completely unprepared for an attack of this sort.  

Melos took all this in with horror, then realized the leader of the terrible giants, wearing a cloak and much more ornate armor, was stepping towards him.  He whimpered, and tried to take a step back, but his legs failed him as he stood there, terrified beyond belief.  

Watch Captain Kaes disdained to use the colossal halberd in his right hand, instead picking up the captain of the ship with his massive left gauntlet.  He squeezed, crushing the man’s head as easily as a normal human crushing an aluminum can.  He sighed to himself.  Too easy.  Several shots sounded behind him as his rear guard gunned down a few crewmen trying to make it to the bridge.  He nodded at another Marine, this one with several robotic arms hanging from a pack on his back.  

“Won’t take but a second, Watch Captain,” said the Marine, moving up to the ship’s computers.  The Captain and the men who had slaughtered the bridge crew waited, impassive in their armor, as their technological expert’s gauntlets flew across the computer keys, muttering about “bloody mortals and their too-small holographic keyboards.”  Twenty seconds and none dead crew members later, the tech expert nodded.  

“We’re good to go,” he stated as he walked up to the Captain.  

“Brothers,” said the Captain, and the rest of the Marines stood next to him, the rear guard’s weapons still pointed at the bridge exit where a few crew members cowered out of line of sight.  

“Magos.  Our mission is complete.  Ready to teleport,” said the Captain.  In lieu of a response, the Marines vanished in a thunderclap of dissipating air, their mission complete.  The mighty guns of the Watch Eternal erased any trace of their presence as red beams struck the Beyond, vaporizing it.  The Inquisitors would be most intrigued to see inside information on how this galaxy operated.

There we have it.  Hope you enjoyed the story.  If you have any questions, comments, concerns, criticisms, or requests, feel free to ask!  Wherever you are, have a great day!

#magnificent scoundrels #writing #my writing #story #crossover #sci-fi #star wars #mass effect #warhammer 40k #star trek

[azuchifairy]

The Corpse Bride

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13672392/1/The-Corpse-Bride

Long ago in a small provincial town in the forest, a girl with the dream to be married to her soulmate met a terrible fate. When only her true love could set her free from the awful curse, it turns into a twisted story of life and death.

Chapter One: According to Plan 

Gray finished his sketch just as a butterfly perched on the window sill. He noticed its impeccable colors, a stunning sapphire and deep violet hues to compliment it. Nature rarely made things blue, but that exceptional little butterfly seemed to be rather lucky. It fluttered up through his room and out the window again as his eyes followed it up into the cloudy skies.

He sighed in memory of the day before him. His father, Silver Fullbuster, was in an insufferable state of disarray that his heir had not yet taken a wife. He had been rather unpleasant over it being that his father was growing old and he wished to see the new generation of his family. Gray was his only full blooded son and would inherit their grand estate and family business.

His mother, Mika Fullbuster, had passed on when he was still a child. Yet Gray always remembered her fondly. She adored the beauty of the world around them and explored nature and its majesty. Although he missed her terribly from time to time, Gray tried to be positive about his mother watching over him in the afterlife. His father however never truly healed, but felt that in his remarriage to a wonderful woman named Ur filled the hole in his chest even if only by half.

Ur, like his mother, was a magic user who specialized in healing. She taught Gray, his stepbrother Lyon, and stepsister Ultear how to use their magic. Gray always thought of her as his second mother because of her courageous heart in teaching, yet brutal temper when any of the children misbehaved. Silver frowned upon the children’s use of magic saying that it wouldn't help them in the progressing world, for magic at that time was seen by some as dark and a bad omen. Many who were known to use magic kept it hidden out of fear that those who opposed them would strike back.

Gray never thought of it that way, he was always fascinated by it like both of his mothers had been. Throughout his childhood and into his adult life Gray had become so wrapped into the family business that he rarely had time to do as he pleased. He spent his days living in his father’s shadow, something Silver believed made his son happy.

As Gray became of marital age his father was set on having him be wed, and the sooner the better. Unfortunately his son almost loathed the idea of an arranged marriage. He knew he would wed eventually but he didn’t want to be pushed into it. But marrying him to a suitable maiden to carry on the Fullbuster name was all his father desired. He had tried introducing Gray to countless women, after all his wealth needed to be passed on to someone of equal status. His father wanted him to be happy, but he was willing to only believe that he was. Silver meant well but remained blinded by his own personal wants instead of Gray’s needs.

It took many trials to find Gray a match but when Silver came across the Heartfilia family, another wealthy family like theirs, he found out that their daughter, Lucy, was of age. She was known to be intelligent, beautiful, and blonde. Many other men had sought after her, but she still had yet to be married. Silver had met her on a trip to the Heartfilia estate to have a business meeting with her father, Jude. Silver was struck by her beauty and kindness that he forgot about the business proposal and instead offered his son to Jude and his wife Layla. They agreed to have their children meet and further discuss marriage plans, although it really meant that they wanted it sealed in stone.

Gray had heard of Lucy before around the town and there was nothing wrong with her, she just wasn’t his type. He was entirely unenthusiastic to go to their estate that day. The only reason he didn’t put up an attitude is because his father was at his wits end after Gray had come back from many meetings without a bride. Gray was confident that Lucy wouldn’t like him either, the rumor was a man had already won her heart.

“Gray! You better be ready up there, my boy!” His father called from the hallway.

Gray let out a sigh as he got up from his comfortable spot. He set his book down on his desk and stood in front of the mirror to see the ridiculous suit his servant had helped him put on. It was a deep navy colored suit with a black dress shirt and an overly sized scarf-like tie in silver. It was too tight and extremely uncomfortable that in the instant the servant left the room he tugged at the sleeves and collar to let him breathe again. He wanted to pull the tie off entirely eventually giving up on the undoable knot. They had also slicked his unruly spiked hair back to make him appear ‘proper’. He didn’t quite care if he looked greasy, perhaps it would make him less attractive.

His father opened the door with a smile that turned into a frown as he took a look at his son.

“What did you do this time?” he asked , although knowing his son despised formal wear.

“Dad, I look like a circus monkey, and I couldn’t even breathe. What did you expect?” Gray responded in annoyance as his father crossed the room to him. He fixed his collar and rolled his sleeve cuffs up again making him look presentable again. He tightened the tie and tucked it in so he looked tidy all around.

“Everything must be perfect, you have to make a good impression. As long as everything goes according to plan I’ll be satisfied.” Silver said. It seemed his son wasn’t paying attention with his sour expression so in turn Silver clapped his hands on his son’s shoulders making him jump, “C’mon, lose the attitude.”

Gray winced, “Fine. But it’s not my fault if this doesn’t work out.”

Silver narrowed his eyes, “That’s because you’re going to be kind to her and put your best foot forward so it does work out.”

Gray rolled his eyes, “Sure, whatever you say.” His tone was unconvincing but his father ignored it wrapping his arm around his son’s shoulder.

“Are you two done yet?! This carriage isn’t going to wait forever! We can’t be even a moment late!” Ur shouted from downstairs causing both men to wear looks of fear.

“Of course, honey!” Silver called before turning back to his son with a sheepish smile, “Let’s go now son, before she eats us alive. We’re coming!”

***

In the carriage Gray sulked, staring out the window while they passed by the shopping district. It clunked across the cobblestone as it ventured and soon they were off onto the back road towards their destination. The Heartfilias lived just outside of the town in the countryside so they could farm off the lands. Gray’s suit pulled as he slouched with his arms crossed over his chest, making him twice as uncomfortable.

“Gray, sit up.” Ur snipped, “You’ll wrinkle your clothes.”

“You're right, let me sit up because I care so much about how I look right now..” He snorted sarcastically. It was very rare for him to behave that way towards his stepmother, but given the circumstances of the day in his mind he had every reason to be a bit rebellious.

“Now don’t be that way, this could be the best day of your life!” Silver piped before Ur could scold Gray. He was smiling as optimistically as ever, a classic trait of his father.

Gray rolled his eyes feeling his stomach churn, “Tch, try the worst.”

Ur snapped her fan shut, “Now Gray, your father is right. It's a beautiful day outside-” she glanced up at the ominously dark skies, “well, it's a rather nice day. Anything can happen, you might find yourself smitten with the Heartfilia girl.”

Gray’s eyes went wide, “You can’t be serious. If I didn’t like the others what would make her any different?”

“She’s a Heartfilia! She’s been educated since she was a child on proper etiquette and she’s of remarkable status! Smart, elegant, beautiful,” his father held up three fingers, “those are the three you look for in a wife.”

Ur, who had been calmly fanning herself, gasped and whacked Silver across the head with her fan, “There’s much more to a woman than that!”

Silver chuckled, “O-Of course my dear, I’m just trying to make it easy for him!” He rubbed the growing lump on his head biting his lip in pain.

Gray wiped his face with exhaustion and he shook his head, “You should hear yourselves.”

As Ur was about to hit Silver again, she instead looked to Gray with a touch of sympathy in her eyes, “All we’re asking is that you meet her. If it had been up to your father he would’ve sold you off. Just, please, do your best and try not to embarrass us with something unexpected. That attitude of yours only gets you into trouble. Everything must go according to plan.”

Gray glanced at her a little less coldly before looking out the window again, “I know, okay. You keep reminding me.”

A peculiar estate struck his interest as they approached. There were high black gates that vines had started to twist up with a long gravel pathway to the front. It was an old looking mansion in a deep blue color, including pillars on the porch of the front door.  It looked as if it had been abandoned yet it was still very unique in design that had a tower in the middle that connected both sides of the estate. He couldn’t describe the way he felt looking at it but it was almost as if he had never noticed it before. They had taken the same road many times to go on business trips to the neighboring towns or to visit other families, such as the Dragneels.

“Dad, whose estate is that?” Gray asked before they completely passed the area. Silver peered out the window with Ur and they were both silent.

“I’m not quite sure, has it always been there?” Ur asked, looking at Silver. He appeared to be in deep thought as he gazed at it.

“I’m afraid I don’t know either. That’s very strange.” Silver noted as he knew all the wealthy families within the town’s range. They carried on down the road and both of his parents seemed to shrug it off easily.

Gray’s overwhelming curiosity of the mansion didn’t fade and for a moment he could have sworn that he saw a shadow by the gates. However, he did get distracted by their carriage making a sharp turn. He realized that they had arrived at their destination.

***

The Heartfilia estate was magnificent on the outside and the inside. The landscaping was to perfection as was the decor on the outside of the mansion. It was bigger than the Fullbuster’s and it seemed much flashier. It was fitted with tall windows and grand staircases, warm colors of gold and red, and on the outside four high columns in front of the door. The estate extended into two wings on either side that had doorways to the garden in the back. The Heartfilia’s were renowned for their magnificent gardens that had been in the family since the first line. Jude, the master of the home, was a very ridgid man who had lived in noble status for his whole life. He knew nothing of commonplace life, nor did he want to. He was very difficult to befriend and even harder to impress. His wife Layla, the matriarch of the Heartfilia’s, was known to be the most gentle and elegant woman of the family. She cared for her daughter Lucy more than the sun and stars, and she was also a very skilled magic user. In turn she taught her daughter everything she knew and many said Lucy was much like a reflection of her. In that area of the country, the Heartfilia’s were the closest to royalty.

Lucy was in her room preparing to meet the Fullbuster family. Her closest friend, Levy Mcgarden, was assisting her with her  hair as Lucy let out the biggest sigh.

“Lu-chan, I’m sorry.” Her blue haired friend said sadly as she brushed through her blonde locks.

“It’s okay, Levy-san. I wish he would just give up already! I knew when I made that arrangement with my father it was an awful idea. But I suppose I just wanted something to believe in..” Lucy grew quiet as she placed down her powder puff.

“I could’ve told you that he wouldn’t let it go either. Especially since he promised that you could be with Natsu if you couldn’t find a suitor. That’s why he’s bringing every eligible man possible.” Levy responded.

Lucy slammed her fist down on the vanity making Levy jump,“But why! I don’t understand why he has to hold onto this silly feud between the Dragneel’s and us. Natsu’s father doesn’t even care about it! If something happened centuries ago, why dwell on it?! Natsu told me that his father wants him to be happy and choose his own path, why is that so hard for me?”

Levy’s heart ached at the passion in Lucy’s voice. For as long as she had known her, Lucy was a force of nature. Perhaps that’s why no man could handle her, except for Natsu. Lucy came off as the perfect lady in front of her parents, but she revealed her true identity to every suitor and it drove them away one after the other. She could be rather headstrong and opinionated, she spoke up for what she believed in and most men wanted a quiet and complacent wife. That was truly the opposite of Lucy, which is why Natsu fell for her. When they met it was the first time Lucy felt shy around a man, because he liked her passion and her stubbornness, he fell in love with her.

The Dragneel family was very successful in coal mining and shipping, something that usually did not generate much income. Yet the coming times were growing dependent on it for their new means of transportation, trains. Natsu’s father’s business had shot from the ground up and although they were still small compared to the Heartfilia’s, they were growing rapidly. Her father said that new money was nothing compared to old money and continued to look down on the Dragneel’s every chance they got. In Lucy’s eyes he probably felt threatened by how likeable they were becoming with the other families.

“I swear Levy, I won’t go through with this. This Gray Fullbuster will be just like all the others, and I’ll get him to leave twice as fast. If my father wants to keep messing with me I’ll throw it right back at him.” Lucy said with her fist still clenched. Levy secured her hair into its braid and placed delicate golden flower pins in the top section.

“I believe in you, Lu-chan. That’s why as soon as you're done getting dressed, I arranged a bit of a surprise.” Levy grinned watching Lucy’s face light up.

“What is it?!!” The blonde giggled with excitement as Levy put her shoes on her delicate feet.

“Do you listen?” Levy laughed and went around behind Lucy to finish lacing up her dress. She pulled the pink threads tightly and wrapped it in a bow at the bottom of her back.

Lucy stepped over to the full length mirror and gasped twirling the dress around, “Wow, it’s so gorgeous! You did a fantastic job with this one, Levy-chan!”

“Well you know it’s easy to get it done so fast with magic.” Levy smiled admiring the beautiful light pink dress she had made and how beautiful it looked on Lucy. She always handmade all of Lucy’s gowns, an artisan skill she had learned over years of practice and perfected with the assistance of magic.

“Alright, as promised I’ll get your surprise. But you have to close your eyes, and keep them closed until I say. No peeks!” Levy teased.

The giddy blonde covered her eyes with her gloved hands and waited impatiently for Levy to reveal her surprise. The blue haired maid looked back to Lucy as she neared the balcony doors and opened them quietly. Natsu was perched in the large oak tree that connected to Lucy’s room and swiftly jumped down upon seeing Levy wave him in.

“She’s in there, just be quick. They’ll be coming to get her soon since she’s ready.” Levy whispered.

Natsu could see her blonde hair from the corner of his eye, “Thank you, Levy. I really owe you one for helping me do this during the day.”

Levy shook her head, “Don’t mention it, if it’s for Lucy I’d do anything.”

They entered the room and Levy went to the door of the upstairs hallway, “Alright Lu-chan, you can open your eyes!” She slipped out the door to give them privacy and as she felt the door click shut she heard the overjoyed squeals of her friend from inside the room.

“Natsu!!” Lucy cried, throwing her arms around him. He was the last thing she expected to see since most of their meetings happened at night when the rest of the estate was asleep. They would lay in her bed for hours talking, or sit on the balcony and watch the stars. Natsu was just as elated to see her admiring the dress she had on. He lifted her up and gave her a spin, “You look great Lucy, look at you!”

She giggled in overwhelming happiness when he put her down and felt her nose touch his before he pulled her closer for a kiss. Her face grew hot when she pulled away and Natsu was staring down at her with his eyes full of adoration.

“Maybe you look too good.” Natsu said while scrunching his eyebrows. He knew what was going on that day, it happened many times before. Natsu was not a very jealous man however, and he knew Lucy’s heart belonged to him. He did like to tease her often.

“I’m so happy to see you, even if this is a terrible day you’ve made it much better.” She said bashfully, having a struggle to maintain eye contact.

“It’s okay Luce, you know I promised you no matter what that we’re going to be together. I don't care what anyone says, if I get to spend forever with you it would all be worth it.” He was smiling the whole time, as he always was, as he had been during everything.

“Natsu..I-”

“Better yet, I could just steal you away.” He smirked with an evil glint in his eye, “I’m sure they wouldn’t miss you that much!’

Lucy gasped into a laugh, “Natsu! That’s awful!”

“What? We’ll send them letters,” he paused debating his words, “occasionally.” He joked laughing with her like they always did.

“I wish it was that easy..” she whispered with her hand on his chest. Her eyes grew sad with the underlying frustration apparent.

He shrugged, “I mean, it could be.”

Lucy’s eyes widened, “You mean..?”

“If he doesn’t want to give you up the easy way, he can give you up the hard way.” Natsu said nonchalantly. The words resonated with her and helped her to realize that with Natsu she had the chance to control her own fate, and she would take it.

Lucy grinned, taking him into a hug again, “You’re right. He doesn’t own me. This is the last time I’m going to be introduced, after today I’ll leave with you if he won’t give up.”

Natsu stroked her back and pulled her braid over her shoulder, “Go get em, don’t let whoever this bastard is fall in love with you or I’ll have to kill him.”

“I hate to see you go..” Lucy frowned as they walked towards the balcony together, “yet it seems soon enough I won’t have to see that.”

Natsu kissed her again briefly and jumped up onto the tree branch that led him there. “Keep holding onto that. I’ll be back before you know it. Maybe I’ll bring Happy next time, he’s been dying to see you!”

Lucy leaned against the doorframe keeping her smile as she thought of the cat, “I miss him too, I’ll be with you both.”

“I’ll see you, Lucy.” Natsu said with his cheeky smile and classic wave. Lucy’s heart swelled as she watched him disappear into the forest. But just as it was brought up, it sank down when he was no longer in sight. She placed her hands over her chest and looked up to the endless blue sky. If she had more courage she would’ve skipped this whole day and escaped with Natsu. She realized within that moment that it wasn’t about her amount of courage, it was about timing. Lucy knew that if the timing was right her heart would not fail to guide her onto her own path. She turned around reluctantly and closed the doors behind her crossing the room with her dress flowing. Her chest began to feel even heavier as the door to her room opened.

“Lady Lucy, the guests have arrived. Your parents request your presence at once.” Her head maid said standing sideways to keep the door propped open.

Lucy took a deep breath and tried to bite back her sadness with Natsu in her mind, “Let’s go then.”

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