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aph-mable · 9 months

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dpxdc; My Uncle is Nuts.

My Uncle Is A Nut

Written by:

Aph-mable

@thegatorsgoose

Having been announced the heir and Co ceo of D.A.L.V co, Danny has gotten used to being dragged to formal events with Vlad against his will. Getting caught up in saving one of the many galas he’s forced to attend, Danny catches the eye of one Lex Luther.

Chapter 1

Danny tries hard not to sigh for the umpteenth time as Vlad drags him towards another group of rich folks and reporters.

When his Godfather had publicly announced Danny as his heir during one of his mayoral speeches he thought he was going to die all over again from sheer embarrassment and frustration, especially when he started calling Danny out of class to work on ‘special’ projects or drag him to Gala’s like this one.

Usually at least one member of team Phantom would come along, usually Sam since her parents often forced her to attend anyway, unfortunately this time everyone was busy.

Sure Danny could have asked, but he didn’t want to take away what little free time they had during spring break, so for now he was going to face this party on his own. After all nothing really interesting happens at these and he’s not going to end up socializing much anyways.

At the moment Vlad had rolled him over to a group of men who were chatting away about their latest technology, a nerdy looking yet buff reporter taking notes on everything.

Danny was only half listening to what was being said when the frootloop budged in, something about wanting to partner up with Wayne tech since DALV co was already partnered with Lex co.

He could only roll his eyes and cringe as his crazy arch nemesis wrapped an arm around the shoulders of the bald ceo who looked just as done as he felt.

Seeing Vlad finally to distracted with his deals Danny took his chance and snuck away, moving his wheelchair as fast as possible to make a break for it, away from the party and to explore the building. maybe even escape if he was lucky.

Unfortunately as he reached one of the doors the pesky security stopped him, saying he needed to stay within the building, so he pulled out the oldest trick in his book.

“I have to go to the bathroom, can you at least point me to it?” He even pulled out his pleading eyes to look as innocent as possible to make the security guards feel uncomfortable.

“It’s through those doors over there, just across from the kitchen… do you want-” before the guard could finish Danny was already zooming to the door and shouting, “No thanks, byye!”

Once out of sight he at least made an effort to head towards where the bathroom was but stopped in front of the kitchen.

First double checking all sides of the hallway, he pushed himself into the kitchen in search of something to tinker with. Danny swears he will drop dead if he doesn't get some kind of technology in his hands.

When he entered the place was completely empty of any staff. makes sense as they had set up a huge buffet in the main hall and had all the kitchen staff stand against the wall to show who cooked what, like it was some kind of grand show.

This left Danny to ‘borrow’ a few appliances, they’re rich they can afford it!

He ends up taking a toaster, a blender, and some kind of cylinder air fryer, stuffing them all into his magic bigger-than-it-looks bag and bolting out of there as fast as his wheels could take him so as to not get caught.

Once he re enters the gala he parks himself in the furthest corner near a window. He starts pulling out his mini tool kit and the items he took, trying his best to hide them by making them semi invisible so it just looked like he was messing with his tools as he gets to building an ecto gun.

Danny tried to stay alert and scan the room on occasion but nothing much was happening, Vlad was still bragging to the group of men, and there were only three other kids around his age hanging out on the opposite side of the room. One looked ready to pass out while the other two stood next to the door arguing over who’s dog was best.

Danny pulled his goggles down over his eyes and rolled up his sleeves so his specialized gloves could start putting power into the ecto gun. He quickly starts to hyper focus as he tinkered with the homemade gun, his mind drifting off to play among stars that were just out of reach.

Even with everyone talking around him it all faded to white noise, finally quiet enough he now focused his power to flow through the machinery as he twisted the screws into the right place.

His very core sang with how peaceful it was as he finished making the home made ecto gun and set it down in his lap.

Just as Danny turns it invisible to put it away, his chair is suddenly jerked as he’s dragged towards the now frightened guests, a group of men dressed in green and purple question marked suits threaten everyone into a corner as they start setting up strange equipment.

Clutching his invisible weapon tightly in his lap one of the goons tries threatening him with a gun, but before Danny could react Vlad steps in front of Danny, letting out an instinctual growl to make them back off.

The goon rolls his eyes before directing them to where he wants them to go, trying hard to not let his hands shake too badly as he thrust more people into the now overcrowded corner, keeping watchful eyes on Vlad who is seconds away from losing his temper and ripping someone's throat out.

Now most people in this situation would just listen to their captors, sit still, be quiet, all that jazz, especially with how many of the goons were now bringing in strange green canisters of gas that gave off the scent of pure fear.

Yet as Danny rams Vlad’s ankles with the wheels of his chair it's pretty clear he wasn’t like most scared civilians. For once he was siding with his godfather as he was very, very angry. Angry that they were targeting innocent people, angry that Vlad was treating him like he was helpless, angry that he had to show up to this stupid gala in the first place… He had noticed some of the other kids giving them the slip earlier, at least there’s that.

Just as they bring in the last canister one of the goons trips and nearly brakes open the container, which got the already annoyed second incharge to yell at them.

“For fucks sake! Be careful with those things, we don’t even know what they’ll do yet!”

The younger looking goon, who looks barely out of their teens, shrinks away as they whimper out an apology. He sets the items down as others around them either stare in frustration or sympathy.

Yeah, no.

“Wow you people are pathetic.”

The second in command turns at Danny’s outburst, taking a step forward and clenching his fists. “What the fuck did you just say?” Danny rolls his eyes before glaring at the goon “I said you’re pathetic, did you get that or do you need me to repeat myself again?”

The crowd looks on in half horror, half shock as the leader walks up to Danny, resting his hands on his arm rests and leaning down to stare at Danny threateningly. Danny leans back in his wheelchair and looks up at him with a bored expression, unphased. Vlad tries to shove his way to Danny, but is held back by several goons. Danny spares a quick glare at his godfather, he has everything under control.

“I may be a criminal, but even I don’t like kicking a kid when they’re already down.” The goon says, moving his eyes down to glance at Danny’s wheelchair and back up again, glaring into his eyes. “So I’m going to give you one last chance to take that back.”

Danny narrows his eyes at the goon as he clutchs the invisible ecto gun in his lap, it’s now or never. With near inhuman speed he quickly reaches for his bag and pretends to pull the weapon out, aiming it right at the goons temple. There’s audible gasps from the crowd as the goon stumbles away with wide eyes before gaining his footing and going right back to glaring.

“And I’m going to give you one last chance to reconsider what you’re doing with your life” Danny smirks at the goon, already reading up the lecture in his head.

“It’s 30 minutes past start time, what is taking you so-“ Danny’s smirk evolves into a full shit eating grin as the Riddler walks in to scold the goons, what perfect timing.

With the crowd distracted Danny uses his other hand to unlock his phone. With a few simple swipes, Danny has the gala on lockdown. With the main asshole inside.

Perfect.

_____________________________________________________________

Damian puts on his Robin suit with trained proficiency once they make it to the cave. Unfortunately he and Jon were the only ones able to leave on time, the rest of the family having been dragged away. Truly, this proved that he had good reason to not mingle with the crowd. It had nothing to do with the noise. Or the lights. Or the small talk.

Truly.

“Who do you think it is this time?” Jon asks, an excited smile on his face. But even while being carried, Damian could see the tension in his frame, the nervous tick in his brow. His friend was worried. “I mean, they have the question mark thing going on, but they also had the gas canisters which I don't think the Riddler does that? And the gas itself kinda smelled like lavender and hazelnuts like fear gas but it was also kinda minty? And not like candy cane minty but like straight mint leaf minty? I don’t know, I only know there’s a difference cus ma tried to make mint tea that one time cus she was super sleep deprived and she read online that mint tea could improve memory or something, that stuff reeked!” Another indication of Jon’s nervousness, rambling. By the time Jon had finished his rant, they had already made it to the gala.

Once he’s put down Damian dusts himself off and turns to Jon. “It is most likely a team up, then.” He pulls out his katanas and readys himself for the fight ahead. “Once you break down the door our job is to stall long enough for the others to get out. We don’t know what the gas can do, so keeping the containers safe is our top priority.” As much as it pains him to admit, just him and Jon won’t be enough to handle it themselves. There’s too many people, and they need some of the bats to disperse around Gotham in case the riddler has set up a larger plan.

Jon smiles at him and nods, hopping from foot to foot in excitement (which he doesn’t find adorable at all). “You ready?” Damian gives a sharp nod before Jon kicks in the door.

“-I mean COME ON, people would PAY you to have a chance at your game show! You could even do your whole “riddle me this!” Thing as it’s own segment! But noOOOOooo, you wanna risk the lives of countless civilians so you can get a fucking furry to answer your stupid riddles, most of which aren’t even original! And NOW you wanna partner up with a fear junky cus why?”

“I-“ a clearly startled Riddler tries to answer before being interrupted.

“Oh yeah, cus your BUDDY, your PAL scarecrow, thought it would be so FUNNY to release an UNTESTED gas in a gala for a fucking THRILL HIGH.”

But instead of a fight they walk into.. this.

A wheelchair bound boy with black hair and blue eyes (who he’s sure his siblings would call “adoption bait”) holding a strange silver and green gun that looked straight out of one of Damian’s sci-fi mangas, at a confused and startled Riddler. It seems the crowd used this as an opportunity, as the rest of the goons were restrained near the walls by a mix of his family, Kent, and various gala attendees, while the middle of the room was occupied by the armed boy.

“Huh?” Jon let his arms rest at his sides as his head tilted to the side in confusion (it does NOT remind him of a confused puppy, absolutely not). However before Damian could say anything, it seems the boy has finally noticed them.

“Oh, you’re here. Took you long enough.” The boy finally puts the gun down and into a bag at his side. “Have fun.” He says in a bored tone as he turns and starts pushing himself in the direction of a man with silver hair, Vlad Masters, who met him in the middle only to start fussing over him, seemingly much to the boy’s annoyance.

Finally shaking off their shock both Damian and Jon rush to detain the Riddler until the police show up, yet Damian’s curiosity keeps bringing his eyes back to Master’s and his ward. outwardly, the concern seemed genuine, but with how the boy was reacting to just being touched by Master’s… made him think otherwise.

Even Lex Luthor was side eyeing the man instead of resuming his chatter with father or Mr. Kent, meaning something was happening and Damain was determined to find it out one way or another.

For now though, they have their hands full because of Riddler and Scarecrow.

Domain knew he should have stayed back with Ace.

____________________________________________________________________________

End of chapter 1

#dyslexia #long reads #batfamily #bruce wayne #clark kent #disabled danny #wheelchair au #jon kent #damian wayne #the riddler #scarecrow #patrol partners event 2023 #mild violence #swearing #dpxdc #autistic writers

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tfp-is-my-lifeblood-lol · 4 months

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Reasons Why I Think TFP Jack is Underrated:

Welcome to my organized bullet list of why I think Jack is cool. I used to think he was boring too, but now I think he's the goat and here's why:

-He has Main Character Energy, but he's more snarky than most cliche main characters

In fact, he is a petty king:

-He doesn't wanna be on Team Prime at first, but eventually accepts it...

...He then proceeds to BURN Airachnid's ship to the GROUND with a stupid survival kit for babies

-HE DEFEATED THE ALIEN SPIDER QUEEN WITH NOTHING BUT A LIGHTER AND A POCKET KNIFE, BRO

-HE WAS DONE WITH HER BULLSHIT LOL

-Plus he tricked Silas by pretending to beg for mercy, when really, he was stealing his walkie talkie.

-Jack is boring, BUT the fact that Jack has nothing special about him IS his superpower; Miko has the Apex Armor and her brave personality, Raf has genius level computer smarts, and Jack has PURE SPITE. It's beautiful.

-He has zero skills, but he'll figure out how to defeat his enemies anyway, SOLEY because he's tired and doesn't get paid enough for this shit.

-For example, in one of the Titan Magazine comics, Jack literally kicks Silus in the balls

Evidence:

Iconic✨

Apex armor? Cybertronian technology?

Screw that. How about I KICK you in the balls?l

-A true legend

-He's also a mess though, and I relate so hard

-He's so petty he talked two aliens into helping him cheat at street racing to piss off his classmate

-His romantic subplot is treated like a complete joke, and I love that. Normally, the Main Character✨ is awkward, but gets the girl in the end. Not Jack, though. Nope. He just constantly looks stupid in front of Sierra, nothing ever happens between them, and Arcee is just watching with popcorn as his life falls apart. It's hilarious.

Also, if I'm correct, isn't the last time we see Sierra when she sees Arcee's homoform, and thinks Jack has a girlfriend, and then Jack is like "She's my mom😅." And Sierra's all like: "Your mom looks good in leather😐...on your bike😐😐😐😐..." Maybe I'm wrong, but if that's the case, it's funny. Jack is a simp and it gets him nowhere.

-His sarcasm works perfectly with Arcee's sarcastic attitude.

-Also Tailgate is voiced by Josh Keaton (Jack's voice actor) in the flashbacks, so I headcanon that Jack reminds Arcee of Tailgate, and that's why she has such a soft spot for him.

Tailgate and Arcee's dialogue had the same vibe as her and Jack's

Also, it gives more context to why she was so scared to lose him when Airachnid showed up. It would've literally been like losing Tailgate all over again.

-Jack is Team Prime's designated Good Ideas Guy

It was Jack's idea to hijack the spacebridge to send him to Cybertron

It was also his idea to drain the dark energon out of The Nemesis when it came alive and froze everyone

-I'm probably just projecting, he has generalized anxiety disorder vibes

-I feel like he prefers a comfortable, predictable life because he gets nervous easily

-He's always the first to freak out, and overthink, and Arcee always has to calm him down

-And she's so patient with him it's so sweet😱

-I agree the writing behind his existence is meh, and a lot of the cool stuff about him is probably unintentional, but I don't care, so take that!

Anyway, the moral of the story is:

Jack is just an angry little harmonica boy. Leave him alone. He's trying his best😭

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

#JackDidNothingWrong #WellActuallyHeDidEverythingWrongButThat'sOk #He'sStillLegendary #transformers prime #tfp #tfp arcee #tfp jack #jack darby #rants #rants n rambles #timll talks #tfp airachnid #tfp mech

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save-the-villainous-cat · 19 hours

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With all the strength they had left, the hero crawled into the villain’s apartment through the window. After surviving the superhero, this should have been easy but it turned out to be exhausting.

The hero had landed in the bathroom and without wasting another second, they pulled themselves up and searched through the cabinets. Unfortunately, their bloody hands left enough evidence of them breaking in already. They supposed they’d have to face the villain sooner or later, even if that meant the villain was going to throw them out again.

For now, they found something close enough to practical — a razor — and opened the first aid kit the villain usually stored under the cabinet. Before they could take out the blades, the villain opened the door.

“You’re not as quiet as you think.” The hero looked at them and smiled softly. Teeth stained with blood, heavy limbs.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” they said. With no hesitation, the villain helped them up and took the razorblades out of their hands.

“What happened to that pretty face?” they asked. With one hand on the hero’s hip, they reached for a clean towel and turned on the sink. They let the soft fabric drench in warm water and gently cleaned up the hero’s face.

It all happened so fast. The villain didn’t seem to mind that the hero was here in the middle of the night.

And they were close. So close.

Whereas the villain was focused on the hero’s face and getting rid of all that blood, the hero stared into their eyes. Maybe it was this cruel change: brutal violence coming from someone they had adored to gentle tenderness from someone they had loathed.

The villain looked down at them. Their thumb traced the hero’s jawline and the hero looked away, almost ashamed.

“You look like shit,” the villain whispered. “And you woke me up.”

“I’m sorry,” the hero said. They looked at the villain’s clothes — their underwear and a shirt. The hero blushed a little. They took the villain’s hand and reached for the razorblades. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

The hero let go of them with a gaze that lingered a little too long.

“They chipped me,” the hero explained. They cleaned the blade with some rubbing alcohol and took in a deep breath. “Chipped me like a fucking dog.”

They cut into their own forearm, watching as the blood ran down their skin. It burnt even more than the open wounds on the hero’s back. They supposed they just had gotten used to that sort of pain, even if that was impossible.

With the blade, they dug through skin and muscle, clenching their teeth until they found the little tracker. They cursed when they pushed their fingers into the wound to fish it out.

Once they had the bloody device in their hand, they let it fall to the ground and crushed it under their boot.

“I knew trackers are useless at your place. You’ve slipped through my fingers quite a few times that way.”

The villain didn’t say anything. They just stared at the hero who cleaned their arm.

It wasn’t exactly easy to crawl to their nemesis and beg for shelter. The hero was too proud to do that anyway and they had planned to leave after cutting out the microchip.

“I’m sorry to have bothered you,” the hero said.

“You didn’t bother me.” The villain took a step forward and took the hero’s hands. “Are you alright?”

The hero frowned.

“Of course I am. I’m fine. I’m doing great.”

“You’re sure about that?” The villain let their fingers intertwine and suddenly, the hero felt very tired very quickly. “You’ve been so busy these last few days. I barely got to see you. They sent over some other lame heroes.”

The hero chuckled tiredly.

“I mean, why would they think I am satisfied with all the other rabble?” One of their hands glided down the hero’s forearm where they put pressure on the wound. “You always wanted to be a hero. When did that change?”

“I don’t know,” the hero said but the desperation and the hopelessness were already settling in. It didn’t even buy them time to lie to the villain. One way or another they found out anyway and most of the time, they asked the hero questions they already had the answers to.

The hero couldn’t really take it anymore. The pain was too much, their mind was breaking more and more.

“Oh, so many tears on such a pretty face,” the villain said. They pulled the hero closer and wiped their tears away with the back of their hand. “Don’t you know it’s not your fault?”

“They turned against me,” the hero said. Their voice trembled. “All of them. They chipped me, they put a bounty on my head. They’re trying to kill me because I don’t agree with…with all this shit.”

The villain cupped their face. “With what?”

“With all this stupid collateral damage and these dumb advertisements. Most of the time I feel like a mascot, I’m barely saving any people.”

“Oh, darling.” The villain tilted their head. Their presence was comforting in a way the hero hadn’t had experienced before. Whatever they’d done to each other in the past, the hero didn’t care. They were familiar, they were warm. The hero wasn’t going to let anyone take this moment away from them. “And who exactly beat you up like this? Your boss, I assume?”

“…yeah.” They could play pretend. They could pretend the villain was closer, that they were more than acquaintances. Even if it wasn’t real, even if the villain was using them, the hero needed some affection right now. They’d gladly give the heartbreak to their future self.

“My poor hero,” the villain said softly. “Would you let me stitch you up?”

The hero nodded.

“I’ll protect you,” the villain promised. They pulled them close to hug the hero. The hero didn’t understand why they were so gentle, so kind. Most of the time, they insulted each other like children. But the hero needed this. They really did. “They will pay for this.”

#shake baby baby shake bis uns der Himmel auf den Kopf fällt #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #h/c

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000marie198 · 2 months

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Beats till the song disappears

......

Classic era, Sonic 2's bad ending timeline but I made it better. Or worse. Leaving for you to decide. Enjoy :)

...........

He trudged through the dark zone, silent and windless akin to a closed, lifeless chamber.

The place was littered with systematically arranged crystal blocks that would've looked aesthetically pleasing if it were daytime. For now, they just made the place more eerie as he waited for Robotnik to show up.

After what felt like an eternity of worried pacing to the speedy hedgehog but in reality was barely a couple of minutes, two of the structures nearby split apart, revealing a camouflaged panel sliding in the ground.

Sonic stopped, facing the opening to see the Eggmobile rise from the underground, hovering a meter or so above the inclined floor leading into the depth.

The doctor looked composed, unworried, his spectacles glinting with a previously absent touch of confidence, of victory.

"Did you bring them?" He asked, addressing the frustrated hedgehog.

Sonic revealed four emeralds without a word, pulling them away as the other tried to grab for them.

"Tails?"

"Hand them over first."

Sonic was about to retaliate but paused at seeing the other hover a finger over the mobile's control panel, staring straight at him with the unspoken threat clear in his body language. He could kill the kit if Sonic wasn't careful.

His thoughts conflicting with one another and the concern for his little brother chiming in, he finally relented, holding out the gems for the mobile's claws to grab.

"Now tell me where he is."

"Careful, hedgehog, you don't get to make demands here. I believe we had an agreement that he'll be spared only if you brought all five Chaos Emeralds, hmm?"

Silence fell over the terrain, the hero shooting a venomous glare at Robotnik. It would be too much of a gamble to attack him when he had a link open to wherever he was keeping Tails. His lack of acknowledgement to the earlier question was answer enough. He hadn't been able to collect the required number of emeralds on time.

"I see," the scientist murmured.

Sonic gritted his teeth, high strung, on edge. He was aware he had failed but he needed to know...

"Just tell me if my brother is alright."

"He is," the other sighed in an exaggerated display of disappointment, "I would've gotten rid of him by now provided your ineptitude-"

"You know I can't locate them all this fast!" Sonic snarled, looking seconds away from jumping at his throat.

"But I am feeling rather... merciful today," the man continued on without even reacting to the interruption, his demeanor betraying he held all the cards. "I propose another deal, hedgehog. If you agree, I promise that no harm will come to Tails."

Sonic shouldn't trust him. Didn't trust him. But if it meant Tails would be safe...

He nodded, signalling to Robotnik that he was listening. Said scientist smirked under his mustache.

"Become part of my legion. Surrender yourself to me, and your little friend will go unharmed."

His legion. The hero had fought against him enough times, had seen enough horrors and rescued enough critters being used as test subjects to read between the lines, to know what Robotnik meant. The mere mention of that thing still makes him sick. Robotnik wasn't asking him to just give up his freedom. He was demanding for Sonic to give up his mind and body, his free will, in the worst way possible.

Sonic's life or Tails' safety?

It took him less than a second to choose.

"Well?" Robotnik's voice prompted, already knowing his nemesis' decision.

"If you hurt Tails-"

"Oh don't be so leery. I gave you my word. Your fox friend will not be harmed. Now, do we have a deal or do I signal my bots to neutralize that menace?"

Sonic squeezed his eyes shut, shaking with a plethora of emotions he couldn't bring himself to grasp and process as they came and went in waves. He gasped in a breath and stilled, before coiled tension leaked away from his body and he sighed. Surrendered.

"Deal."

"Excellent!" He could hear the victorious grin in Robotnik's voice but he didn't react, unable to bring himself to look up, gaze fixed on his red and white sneakers as he willingly sealed his fate. His iconic shoes held his focus, shoes that allowed him his freedom to run as fast as his heart desired. The same freedom which he was now volunterily giving up for his brother.

It felt like just yesterday when he had met the little guy, his shoes very smilar to Sonic's own, a matching color scheme. Something he had never paid attention to before but was now a glaring memory. He hadn't even told Tails how much he cared for him, how much proud he was, had he?

If he were to be given a chance to speak with Tails, he'd never remain silent again.

His feet moved without his consent, following the rotound man into the underground base until he blinked out of his thoughts and found himelf in a lab, facing a tall glass cylinder strung up in the center of the circular space.

It stood empty, it's front open, waiting to be occupied. Sonic stared on, unable to look away.

"Now don't be shy, step into the capsule. Chop chop!"

A hair's breath pause and he stepped forward, inside the glass confinement and upon the platform inside, fully resigning himself to what he had agreed on. His breath shuddered with anguish and dread as Robotnik moved around it to the front and pressed a switch.

The glass sealed behind him with a decisive click.

Adrenaline shot through his veins as the machine hummed to life, lights glowing awake below the platform he stood on and the welded hatch above him.

His heartbeat began to thunder in his ears, quills pricking up but he held still, letting the titanium clamps reaching for him seal around his ankles and wrists.

He saw Robotnik clicking away at a nearby screen and then he felt a subtle jerk, the machine's hum increasing in volume and intensity, the platform under him rising up.

With one final click at the keyboard, sleek contraptions that looked suspiciously like a sci-fi mixture of scanner and blaster surrounded him and pulsing rays shot out from their openings.

Sonic grunted as he felt the energy strike him, the clamps keeping him still.

It started from below, at the legs. Of course it fucking did. Sonic wanted to scream, wanted to yell and kick and bang his fists against the glass, feeling cold numbness slowly spreading up his most powerful weapons, his legs, his speed, stripped from him painstakingly slowly as flesh turned to metal.

All he did was clench his fists and grit his teeth in anguish, his whole being screaming at him to move but he held still. He couldn't move, not if it placed his first friend, his best friend, at risk.

28%

The titanium bands securing his ankles and wrists seemed to tighten, restricting the little bit of movement he had as the rays slowly climbed up to his torso, inches below his heart.

He didn't let the tears show.

For Tails for Tails for Tails for Tails

His thoughts chanted like a mantra, placing all his being into not moving, letting himself be turned into a machine, until his ears swivelled at the swoosh of a panelled door sliding open, urging him to look up.

His breath caught in his throat, each cell freezing up in a mixture of shock, rage and despair.

No. No no no no no no no no NO!

"TAILS!" The anguished wail left his chest just as his heart stopped beating, an engine's hum replacing its frantic rhythm.

He payed it no mind. It didn't matter when it was ripped to shreds anyway the moment his blurry gaze met his brother's.

Glowing red optics stared back.

He tried to move, tried to break free but it made no difference, half his body frozen on the spot, under the control of the Chaos forsaken monster who did this.

65%

The bands on his wrists burned, something warm and damp flowed down his palms and dripped from his fingers. Sonic was numb to it, struggling and shaking in the glass confine, his own screams becoming muffled to his ears.

"You promised! YOU FUCKING PROMISED YOU WOULDN'T HURT HIM!"

A screen beeped, the vitals' charts on it going haywire as the progress bar reached 78%.

The mustached scientist just stood there grinning, unconcerned and victorious.

"And I kept my promise. He is unharmed, well and alive." The words seemed to echo in his head, reverberating as if imprinting on the walls of his mind, the machine's buzz and hum drowned out by them. "Just as you asked, rodent."

He couldn't take his pained eyes off of the small yellow robot and his captor noticed that, turning to address Tails with a deceptively encouraging smile.

"Isn't that right, Metal Tails?"

The little robot finally moved, startled beeps escaping it as it's mechanical gaze shifted away from hyperfocusing on Sonic and towards what it's systems told it to be it's creator.

The familiar innocence in that small gesture, even though seeing it on a roboticized mecha, broke something in Sonic.

He tried to call out to his brother but realized he couldn't speak. He couldn't feel his muzzle or mouth anymore. Oh...

The screen read 96%.

As the metal climbed up his quills and ears and the world began to fade into static, Sonic drowned out Eggman's smug grin and droning of the roboticizer's rays, putting all that was left of his mind and strenght into focusing on Tails.

He wanted his last memory to be of his brother, even if no longer flesh and blood but mere metal and wires, he was still Tails. His Tails. That much was clear from its demeanor alone, the innocence, the curiosity, the intelligence, it was all there. Sonic would be able to tell his kid apart from a thousand other Tailses if he had to.

The tears he'd been holding back finally slipped down, the last piece of his humanity used into conveying to Tails that he was sorry, that he loved him.

99%

His eyes closed, the metal covered up the last of the organic cells and Sonic finally went still.

............

Metal Tails gazed upon the powering down capsule, his processors showing the progress bar having reached 100%.

He couldn't take his focus off of the inactive hedgehog; organic, mechanical, irrelevant, Metal Tails was drawn to him even before the roboticization was completed.

Something suspiciously illogical was recorded in his archives during the process. He had sensed what organics refer to as emotions being conveyed to him earlier by the same being. It seemed to be a combination of concern, remorse and affection.

How could he do that without any working signal and communication link to Metal Tails?

The roboticized hedgehog suddenly beeped awake, internal fans whirring as his systems rapid-fire processed the new programming and commands. He jerked within the bonds and stilled again, hanging limp for a long beat.

Metal Sonic lifted his head up, optical processors switching on to reveal glowing red optics staring straight into Metal Tails' own.

It appeared the other robot was finally awake.

Metal Tails couldn't calculate why the organic hedgehog had seemed to know about him but he had felt drawn to the blue being just the same.

Perhaps it was a satisfactory calculation on his creator's part as Metal Tails' tended to get lonely and this arrangement made him most pleased.

Another robot companion made for the perfect promised gift.

.................

No characters were killed in the making of this story, just as I promised :]

#i am sleepy #author is sleep deprived #anyways Happy Sunday everyone #this is my counterattack #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sth #miles tails prower #dr eggman #dr robotnik #sonic and tails #unbreakable bond #angst war weekend #plz if there r any errors ignore them I'll recheck them in the morning #cw body modification #i rather like this au. i might just add nore to it :D

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myymi · 27 days

Text

wrote this in three hours cause my other angst fics aren't close enough to finish so it's not as good as it can be but i wanted to put the imagery in everyone's brain lmao

happy broken bond sunday everyone <3

Sonic and Tails were angry.

Which isn't entirely unusual for them during fights, Knuckles notes as his fist collides with another motobug.

But this time it was different.

This time, they were angry with each other.

Knuckles has heard about them fighting before, but this is the first time he's ever seen it happen. It's such a surreal, unthinkable situation and yet it was happening right before his very eyes.

The usual witty banter the brothers would shout to rile up their human nemesis was completely gone, replaced by a silence that hung heavy with anger as the destroyed badniks in a much more aggressive manner. (Knuckles didn't think Tails could ever get more explosive than he was, but he was very quickly proven wrong today.)

Eggman seemed to notice the change too, unsurprisingly. He kept poking them about it, curious about their silence.

Knuckles, while not one to usually mediate fights, tried to get some information. But when he'd ask them, he'd be shrugged off with a grumble.

It was a little worrying, to be honest.

Knuckles freezes when there's another explosion, but this time accompanied by a loud yelp. He turned to the sky, eyes searching for the little fox that was handling the buzzbombers just in time to watch as he fell.

Smoked trailed him, and Knuckles quiet prayed that the way it looked like it was coming from the kid's tails was just a trick of the eye.

But before the echidna got to even think about running to catch the fox, a blue of blue shot through the air, taking Tails with it.

Sonic was behind Knuckles a second later, trusting him to provide cover as he looked over Tails’ injuries.

But as soon as he was put down, the fox pushed his brother away. “I'm fine.’

“No, you're not.” Sonic argued, wrapping a paw around the youngest’s arm to drag him closer again, “Stop acting like this.”

“Leave me alone, Sonic.” Tails frowned, trying to tug his arm back. “Despite what you think, I can take care of myself.”

“For the love of Chaos, Tails, really?” Knuckles’ brow furrowed as listened to the quiet argument. What happened between them? “You're being dramatic.”

“That's so ironic coming from you of all people.” The kit argued back, rolling his eyes.

“In case you haven't noticed, we're in the middle of a battle right now, Tails.” Sonic leaned down to be at eye level with the little fox, “We don't have time to deal with this tantrum.”

“Because that's all it is, right?” Tails grumbled, pushing the hedgehog away. “All you ever do is deal with me, huh?

“If you would stop being a brat every time I do something you don't like then I wouldn't have to deal with anything, would I?” Knuckles could feel his expression morph in a mix of shock and anger. What had gotten into these two?

When he turned around to check on his brothers, he could see how Tails’ eyes were shining with tears. Knuckles never liked it when the fox cried.

Sonic didn't seem to fully understand what he said until he saw the expression on the youngest’s face. His eyes immediately filled with regret as he processed his own words.

Tails sniffed and scrubbed at his eyes, backing away when Sonic reached out for him. “I'm so sorry adopting a mangey child wasn't the happily ever after you were hoping for, Sonic.” Is the last thing the kid said before turning and flying back into the battle.

“Tails, wait!” Sonic shouted after him, but heavily groaned when he realized the kid wouldn't listen to him. He ran a paw down his face as he stared after his little brother.

“What happened between you and the kid.” Knuckles demanded more than asked, roughly turning Sonic to face him. This is the first time he's ever seen the hedgehog make Tails cry and he wanted some answers.

“It's been a long morning, okay?” Sonic sighed and shook his head. “I'll explain more later, but I gotta go apologize to–”

Sonic's sentence was cut off by another, much louder explosion than the previous ones.

The teenagers turned to find the source of it, their eyes widening as they watched a building collapse.

And Tails was nowhere in sight.

“Tails?!” Sonic screamed, speeding over to the destroyed building to search his brother. Chaos, please let the kid be okay.

He could hear Knuckles not far behind, also calling out for the fox, but he didn't care. His full focus right now was finding Tails, he didn't care about anything else.

It didn't take long to find him.

Or– it didn't take long to find most of him.

Tails was unconscious. Thick streams of blood spilled from a gash on his head where his left ear was supposed to be. His left arm was also missing, the hole at his shoulder gushing out more blood.

And, oh Chaos, how long is the pole impaled through his chest? It's so close to his heart. It didn't pierce it though, right? It couldn't have. Sonic can lose Tails. He was going to be fine, right?

Sonic pushed down the rising nausea, dropping to the fox’s side to cradle his head with one paw as the other searched for a pulse. He was muttering to himself, pleading with someone to keep his brother alive.

His gloves were quickly staining red as his paw frantically felt around the kit's body for some sign of life.

His panic grew when he couldn't find anything. It had to be because he was shaking, right? There's no way Tails is– he has to be fine.

“Sonic.” The hedgehog stilled at his name being called. He didn't look away from his brother's body though, even as a tear fell from his cheek. How long has he been crying? “Let me see him.”

The teen shook his head. He couldn't step away and let someone else take his place, Tails needed him.

Knuckles stepped around him, wincing at the sight of the little fox. He kneeled down to check for a pulse, but he knew he wouldn't find anything.

Tails was a strong kid, but there was no chance at surviving being impaled through the heart.

Sonic had leaned down to press his forehead against Tails’s, whispering a million apologies to the kid.

Knuckles closed his eyes and took a deep breath before turning to look at the hedgehog.

The younger met his eyes, a deep plea for the echidna to tell him his brother would be okay.

“He's gone.”

#sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #sth #tails the fox #sonic #unbreakable bond #not anymore lmao #knuckles the echidna #team sonic #myydrabs #major character death #child death #death #tw death #tw child death #broken bond sunday #drabble

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epiclamer · 9 months

Note

HELLOO

villain caretaker and a sheepish hero whumpee ????????????????(!;!(&((!(!(' go

for you and your wife : 🌸🌺🌼🍄

Her favourite flower is lavender actually, but thank you.

Soup for the Soul

The scene in front of them was definitely not reflective of their hero. A shivering, shaking, sweating mess of their former self, buried under a mountain of blankets and tissues that fell to the floor after only a minute or so had passed in between the hero’s fingers.

Masking the slight worry in their mind with a smirk as the villain approached the other sprawled out on the couch. “What are you wearing?”

With only a slight delay, the hero’s head perked up from its spot on the armrest, only to fall back down after they had caught a glimpse of their nemesis in the corner of the room. The villain pushed themselves away from the wall and slowly centred around the hero, standing over them at last.

“I mean seriously, what is that?”

The hero sighed, dropping another tissue to the floor in defeat, pulling one more from their increasingly thinning box. “It’s all I have left. Everything else is covered in vomit or snot or some other sick germ.”

Their voice was sick—if their body didn’t portray that enough already—it was a deep sick, like one’s classic cold times eight. Mucus must’ve been coating their entire respiratory system, not to mention it probably fogged their brain up too.

“So you chose to go with the hot pink princess outfit? Made for twelve year old girls?”

“My mom bought it for me.” They snapped, too upset to not set off flags in the villain’s mind.

Idly the villain began reorganizing and fiddling with the medications and dishes on the coffee table at the hero’s feet. “My mom buys me things too, but it sure as hell isn’t from the women’s youth section.” They muttered, both hands filled with dirty dishes as they headed to deposit them in the kitchen. “And even if they were, you wouldn’t catch me wearing them if it meant I had to go to the dry cleaners naked.”

That got a chuckle out of the hero at least, a little bit of life still salvageable. The villain continued their tidying as the hero closed their eyes, shaking their head a little as they grinned.

“My advice? Call your mother and get your receipt to return it for something way more revealing.”

There was a pause, then the hero sighed again. “I don’t talk to her anymore.”

“Maybe your father has it?”

The villain watched as the hero shrugged, eyes still closed. “Don’t talk with him either.”

As much as the conversation had taken a somber turn, the villain had barely any experience with heavy subjects as such. Their main resort was humour, but they doubted that would help in a moment like this. Instead they tried their best to keep busy with their hands, purposefully clanking pots against each other and utensils together to fill the void-like silence.

Food always helped in tense situations like these, especially hot soup for the soul. So they let the silence stretch on until the only thing left to do was wait for a boil.

“If you don’t mind me asking; why?” Quietly as ever, the villain dug through the cabinets in the hero’s kitchen until the pads of their fingers struck gold.

The first aid kit.

The hero hummed, never looking up, focused entirely on relaxing their sore muscles as the villain approached. “We have a history of not seeing eye to eye.”

Dropping the first aid kit to the floor the villain followed suit as they sat. Gentle hands prying over the other’s arm as they got started, mumbling in agreement while they got out ointments, bandaids and gauze.

“But particularly we never agreed on me. My life, my choices, who I am.” Their skin flushed slightly at the touch of their nemesis, goosebumps coating them in a matter of seconds, which in their head they blamed on the cool sensation of the ointment being rubbed into their raw skin. But they knew it wasn’t the truth.

“Those ones are the worst.” The criminal whispered as they kept massaging the ointment into any scabs, scrapes or areas of flaky, dry skin. Their arms both looked a mess of eczema that was left far too long untreated.

The hero couldn’t stop the blush from reaching their cheeks as they watched the villain work diligently on their sorest spots. Noticing their issues and helping them fix it. The same type of care the hero would’ve killed for as a child. “Yeah…”

Embarrassed as they were, the hero was sure that the villain could hear them swallow nervously or at least feel their pounding heart. But if they did, they didn’t mention anything about it.

“Funnily enough, they still message me. Trying to get me to ‘change my mind’ or ‘take a different path’ as if this shit is my choice.”

The villain crooked an eyebrow, eyes flicking up for a millisecond to latch onto the hero’s before returning to their work. “I’m guessing they send you gifts too. Playing off the fact that these clothes look new and not like they were passed through your childhood.”

They nodded, shutting their eyes again as their face got redder. Avoiding any type of glance at themselves and their humiliating get up, the more they thought about it, the more the hero wanted to cry.

A bubbling hiss sounded from the kitchen and the villain shot up and ran to the stove. Immediately shutting off the burner and pulling the pot of soup off to try and stop it’s over-boiling, the villain breathed in content as it calmed down quickly. Taking out two bowls and two spoons as they poured equal parts before carrying it to the couch side where they last were.

“Don’t worry about it, okay?” They handed their enemy a bowl and a spoon, relishing in the cute dusting of pink on the tips of the other’s ears. “Eat up and then just relax. I’ll handle laundry and we’ll get you out of that get up, then I’ll treat the rest of you, sound good?”

The hero smiled, nodding their head once more as they struggled up to a seated position and shovelled the hot meal down their throat in seconds. Their parents wouldn’t have approved of the villain either, but they didn’t control the hero anymore.

The villain made them feel free, and that was all they needed.

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supertrainstationh · 1 year

Photo

GAME GEAR

Super Train Station H

• • • • • • • •

Game Gear: keeps you busy till the train's here.

Full color screen, 8-bit graphics so vibrant they make your eyes tear. No one cared that it's just a smaller Master System, it had top tier games, so we put it into commission.

Stereo sound to listen, but only if you've got headphones: can't squeeze two speakers on something that predates iPhones.

Playing on the ride home - Dad's stuck in late night Brooklyn Bridge traffic, speed's a no-go: but I'm behind the wheel with Ayrton Senna racing in Monaco.

The glow of the screen, makes the back seat a party scene, the batteries running out now would be a bad dream - they drain faster than Sonic dying in "Sonic Spinball". Mom's got extra Duracells, she has it covered, so trust her.

Vanishing colored gems in "Columns" like Fruit Gushers.

"Fantasy Zone", a shooter with Lisa Frank syndrome, space combat so cute you don't wanna quit.

"Sonic the Hedgehog", where do I start with this? I admired Eggman's robot transformation gimmick, but roboticizing my animal friends is beyond my limit.

Doc mocks me with Cumming's Robotnik cartoon voice, because my head-canon for this game is multiple choice. Sally, Antione, Bunny,and Rotor are my back-up crew, gonna beat Robotnik, and all his Badniks too, and solve mechanical puzzles too tough for Nancy Drew.

The Doctor's sinister, his boss stages make my head spin, but in the name of great justice: I gotta fight him - powered by six double-A's of bottled lightning.

Loved my Game Gear, for playing in the dark; nothing came near, but its nemesis the Game Boy was one for Sega to fear. Nintendo's black-and-white screen made Sega get cocky, let their guard down, but Game Boy came swinging like Rocky.

Smaller price tag - which the parents loved. Needing less batteries fit budgets like a glove. Barely small enough to fit into a 90's kid's pocket, looks like a brick today, but back then, it was some hot kit. You know Mr. Yokoi's team was proud of it. And the batteries lasted a lot longer too, you could play all day hiding it under your desk at school.

And Sega boned their own ads by dissing Game Boy fans, instead of luring handheld gamers with an olive branch.

Wow. What a system, How could I not miss it? Nostalgia soaring high like "Space Harrier" missiles.

I showcase it on Twitch to help spread the word, sometimes it's new to even long-time Sega nerds. I'd talk forever on Game Gear, you know I like this. But my batteries are low, so it's time to split.

[My Twitch] [My VOD Channel] [My FA] [My Ko-fi]

#game gear #sega #poetry #writing #h writes stuff #retro gaming #a.griffin writes

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raineandsky · 5 months

Text

#80

(part 1) (part 2)

tw: alcohol mention

A long day on the job usually finds the hero in the nearest bar.

Can you blame him? He spends his day punching people. He usually gets punched in return. The least he deserves is an evening to relax and think about something other than how much of a nuisance his nemesis is.

So here he is once again, ordering a pint of beer from the bartender and draping himself over a bar stool in a comfortably familiar routine. He watches idly as a band sets up on the humble stage at the front—someone fiddles with the mic stand, another with a drum kit at the back.

Other patrons are watching too, for lack of anything better to do. Some sip at their drinks like it’s part of the show. Another band member hops onto the stage to plug a guitar into the amp.

The hero’s eyes drag lazily as the person leans back upright, shaking his hair out of his face as he does and glancing out over the crowd. The hero’s heart leaps nauseatingly into his throat as he’s met with the face of the villain.

Seemingly satisfied with the congregation, the villain gets to twinging the strings on the guitar, the sound humming through the floorboards under the hero’s feet. The vibration is snaking up his legs and straight into his already anxiously clenched muscles. His knuckles are turning white on the beer glass. He’s going to shatter it if he’s not careful.

But what can he do? He’s out of uniform, off the job. The villain’s on a goddamn stage in front of a giant group of onlookers. His options are limited. His best bet is to wait it out to the end and jump on the villain when he inevitably makes his escape backstage somewhere.

The band nods to each other—guitar, drums, vocals. The singer steps up to the mic, and it shrieks in protest as she taps it testily.

“Good evening, y’all,” she opens with a drawl akin to that of an uninterested teenager. “We’re Knights of the Black Realm. This is our original song: Revenge Means Chaos.”

The guitar kicks in first. The sound is soft at first, subdued, sweet. The drum adds a rough tang to it, and by the time the singer is sweeping through the first verse the song is in full swing.

The villain’s fingers move smoothly over the strings, mischievous delight woven into his grin. The sound from his guitar is incredible, for lack of a better word—the gruff twang hovers over the fragility of the vocals, the sharp edge provided by the drums. It’s beautiful, and the hero hates it.

The song flickers into a second song like there isn’t a moment to waste. Then a third, and a fourth, and a sixth and a tenth and a fifteenth. The other patrons clearly love it, cheering and bobbing up and down to the tune. All the hero can do is sit in perfect stillness and glare hatefully.

The villain’s gaze flits over the crowd again. He scans the darkened corners near the bar this time, and his eyes lock with the hero’s from across the room.

It would’ve been romantic if the hero hadn’t been watching with barely contained disdain.

The villain looks surprised for a moment, caught off guard, before his face splits into another grin. Knowing, cocky. I’d like to see you try, it mocks. The hero scowls back—you know damn well I will.

The twentieth-something song ends with a single sinking note. The villain steps forward to whisper something to the singer, and she laughs heartily at whatever he said.

“Special request!” she announces with a giggle. The villain steps back into place with a smile. ��This one’s for all the hardworkin’ heroes out there tonight, defendin’ our beautiful city. This is My Eyes Are Only On You.”

Oh, the irony. That piece of shit.

The villain’s stare is unmoving from the hero now. Another grin is slowly working its way onto his face; proud. Arrogant. Annoying.

The song is smooth, like a tune made of silk. It’s slow, unneedy, unbothered. The guitar is as effortless as ever, the villain’s rhythm no more than a gentle rock within the river of the song.

The song thankfully reaches its end, and all three members of the band are smiling—though, the hero guesses, for very different reasons.

“Thanks, y’all!” The singer seems in higher spirits than she started. “We’ll be playin’ again next week at the Lousy Farmer, and then we’ll be back here for…”

The hero tunes her out. He’s on his feet, watching the villain hastily pull cables from amps. The hero’s almost in front of the band when his nemesis cuts his losses and hops down the back of the stage, trailing wires from his guitar like confetti.

The hero positively startles. He has to go the long way, naturally—he skirts the stage, barrelling for the door leading to the bar’s back alley he knows the villain will be aiming for. The door clatters loudly off the brick wall outside, but the alley is empty. The city’s big; the moment the villain left the bar he could’ve gone anywhere.

The hero wears another scowl now as he turns back inside. Looks like he’s just found a new favourite band. Next week and the Lousy Farmer it is.

#creative writing #writblr #writers on tumblr #writing #writing community #heroes and villains #hero x villain #tw alchohol mention #guess who went to his first big boy concert #ashnikko my beloved........#told my boss and she was like nice who're you seeing!!!#and when i told her. she played ashnikko. to the entire office. and i wasnt there to stop her #now. if you know ashnikko. it is not professional music lets say

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kitsune-void · 1 year

Text

sleepy eepy

hero slumped down on their bed, groaning as they searched for the motivation to dress their wounds and silence their growling stomach. still in their uniform; covered in dirt, blood, and sweat; they trudged through the apartment, grabbing their first-aid kit before returning to their room.

once they stepped under the warm water, the tension in their shoulders seemed to float away along with the steam. they felt so nice, so safe, just feeling the water wash the filth away.

maybe if they hadn't let their guard down, they would've noticed the crash coming from the lounge room.

hero threw on clean clothes before cleaning their wounds, barely wincing as the alcohol made contact with their flesh. they covered their injuries. scarfed down whatever was left in their pantry, and practically fell into bed.

...

"hello,"

hero fell to the floor in a mess of blankets, their scream muffled by the thick fabric immobilizing them. they struggled out of their warm and cozy confines and stumbled to their feet, trying to look as menacing as possible as they faced the intruder, and-

of course.

“what the fuck are you doing here”

villain, still trying to hold in their giggles, took a step into the room. in response, their enemy took two frantic steps back.

“just popping in to say hi~”

“hello to you too. now get out,”

the villain scoffed, pouting at their nemesis.

“y’know, for a ‘good guy’, you can be awfully rude.”

hero huffed, trying to keep their composure. “maybe I’d be a bit nicer if you weren’t breaking and entering right now,”

“you're so-”

“i won’t hesitate to call HQ.” hero rolled their eyes at villain’s offended expression, who didn’t miss the yawn that slipped past their lips.

now that they had noticed hero’s first sign of sleepiness, the others became increasingly apparent. their eyes were dark, eyelids fluttering as if they were struggling to stay open. their shoulders were dropped, making no effort to hold the usual big and scary stance for their enemy.

they looked… done. they just looked done with it all.

villain opened and closed their mouth a few times, wanting to ask if they were okay. just so they were aware of any weaknesses. that was all. they weren’t concerned, how could they be concerned for their arch nemesis?

“are you going to leave now?” villain’s gaze shot upwards, catching the other’s, who looked just about ready to pass out on the spot.

they recovered from their little moment of vulnerability within seconds, letting their usual smug expression wash over their face.

“yes, actually! enjoy your evening, hero,”

and with that, they left, shutting the door and climbing out of the window they came in through.

only halfway through their sprint back to base did villain remember their actual mission: stealing a folder full of classified information unnoticed. cursing under their breath, they considered going back, but they’d probably wake hero up. which was bad because they’d get caught, obviously. no other reason.

that night, as supervillain berated them, all villain could say was that they’d go back and try again. and if the next time didn’t work, they’d try again. and again. and even if they completed the mission, maybe it would be good to have someone keeping an eye on the hero! just to know if anything suspicious happened. and maybe to make sure that their enemy was okay.

#hero x villain #neo writing😋#this is short and not very good but i like the idea and i NEEDED to post something because i cannot let my silly little fear #of internet people keep me from posting stuffs i like!!!!

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yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt · 8 months

Text

A sad interaction I imagined with Goldenheart's child and Nimona

This could work with any fanchild but I used mine (Atticus He is just baby comic Ambrosius I ripped off his design and personality I thought he was cute and wanted to give a version of him a family leave me alone) because reasons, but-

We all know Nimona has trauma regarding children seeing her as a monster. Now imagine: Goldenheart baby AKA Nimona's little sibling/nibling/godchild accidentally triggers that trauma when they just wanted to play

Nimona thought things were going perfectly since Atticus was adopted. She loved playing with him no matter how rowdy he got. Ballister went to work during the day, Ambrosius stayed home, kept track of things, watched and cared for Atticus, and sometimes Nimona did her own thing, but sometimes she'd help him out by playing with the boy for a little while. He loved to play with her. Until one occasion, he caught her off guard.

Ambrosius was prepping the vegetables for dinner-- he couldn't cook, but he tried to be of help by having the ingredients ready when Ballister got home-- and Nimona was sitting on the living room floor playing a video game. She heard his excited voice off to the side. "Nimona! I wanna play a game!"

"Sure thing, Sport, what game?" She wasn't really paying attention. She heard his giggles as he ran towards her. "Monster attack!" Her eyes widened, and he jumped on her swinging his wooden sword at her. "Monster attack!"

In a flash and without thinking, she smacked the sword out of his grasp and grabbed his wrist, teeth sharp and eyes narrow and glowing, "Do not call me that! I am not playing that game with you, you get that sword out of my face and you keep it that way, do you understand!?"

Immediately she realized what she'd done when he stared at her with fear and shock in his wide green eyes, and then his face crumpled as he started to cry.

"No, nonono, hey, Kit, it's okay," she softened her appearance and released his wrist, pulling him in for a hug. "Don't be scared of me, I didn't mean to scare you, I'm sorry." She rubbed his back while he sobbed.

Ambrosius ran over, and Nimona winced, ready for him to yell at her or kick her out or do anything for making his child cry, but he just rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder before extracting his son from her arms. "Hey, buddy, hey, it's okay." He sat on the sofa and held him tightly, rubbing his back. "I'm sorry Nimona scared you, I know she didn't mean it. I think you startled her. You can't just run up to people and tackle them with swords, if you ask if they want to play a game with you, you have to tell them what game and wait for them to say yes before you start. I don't think Nimona wanted to play that game with you. We'll just be more careful next time, right?" He stroked his hair while Atticus blubbered.

He wiped his little eyes with his fists, hiccuping. "I– didn't– mean– to!" Ambrosius kissed his forehead. "I know. Where did you hear about that game? Monsters aren't real, baby. There is no such thing as a monster attack."

He sniffled, "I was just playing pretend! I th-thought she could tu- turn into a cool monster and we could play." Nimona looked down. If Atticus believed in monsters, what did he believe she was if not something to be attacked?

Ambrosius kissed his head. "Monster is just a mean word that people use to refer to what they don't understand. There was a time not long ago where people, including me, didn't understand a whole lot. And because of your Papa and Nimona, we do now. We know better than to call people monsters."

Atticus hiccupped again and wiped his eyes. "I'm sorry, Mimona. I didn't mean to call you a mean name!"

"You're good, buddy. I'm sorry I knocked your sword away and yelled at you. We'll play something else next time."

Nimona knew he probably didn't listen much to the lecture. He hadn't meant anything hateful or prejudiced, he just wanted to play a game. But she heard the lecture her once-nemesis gave. And she appreciated it.

#I have what can only be described as the writing equivalent of sticky note doodles in massive quantities on my google drive #this is one of them #i hope you like it feel free to project your own fanchild on it #for context if it matters Atticus is meant to be about 6 or 7 here #several months after his adoption #anyway i have a lot of feelings about nimona and kids #nimona #goldenheart #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister boldheart

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kimsohn · 2 years

Note

maya may i request the prompt showing up outside your enemy's door ''i didn’t know where else to go'' and jay !!

3am . jay x gn!reader about . 582 words, fluff warnings . bruises, shirtless jay idk 😭

the last thing you expect to happen at 3 in the morning is for your arch nemesis to show up at your apartment door, soaking wet from the downpour outside and sporting a big bruise on his face.

"jay? what are you doing here?" you ask, voice riddled with sleep as you fight back a yawn wanting to escape your mouth.

"sorry, um— i got into a fight and my roommate won't answer the door. i didn't know where else to go."

you sigh, pulling him inside and closing the door so the rain won't soak his figure any longer. even in your half asleep state, you notice how his wet shirt clings to his muscles, making him incredibly attractive in the moment, but you force yourself not to ponder over the thought too long and instead grab a towel from your bathroom so he can dry off.

he gladly accepts the fluffy cloth once you bring it to him, running it through his hair and down his neck. you notice him focus your attention on you and smirk, as if something about you seems amusing enough to bring that expression onto his face.

"nice outfit," he comments, clarifying what caught his attention as you look down and mentally groan at your patterned pajamas.

"you know, i could kick you out at any second. be glad i let you come inside, because you could be out walking in the rain right now."

"okay okay, geez, sorry," he starts, putting his free hand up as a sign of retreat, "why did you let me in anyway? i thought you hated me."

"i do hate you," you clarify, seeing his eyebrow raise, "but i'm not a monster. it's 3am for gods sake, why were you out fighting? are you out of your mind?"

"aww, are you worried about me?" he retorts, brushing past your shoulder and stepping into your living room, "but just so you'll stop nagging me, i wasn't planning on fighting until 3am either. i was just trying to stop this guy from stealing an old lady's purse, but things escalated."

"aren't you the friendly neighborhood spiderman," you grumble, walking toward your bedroom, "and god, you're getting water all over my carpet! go wait in the bathroom, i'll bring you some oversized clothing i have."

when you open the door to the bathroom, you immediately wish you hadn't, because seeing jay shirtless with wet stringy hair and black jeans sitting on the counter was not on your checklist for the day. but you have no choice but to look, and you place the clothes on the counter and tell him that you've placed a blanket on the couch before turning to leave.

"hey, hey wait! where are you going?" he asks, as if you were forgetting something.

"oh right! the first aid kit is under the cabinet to your left," you reply, racking your brain for anything else you missed, "and i think that's it. if you're hungry or something you can raid my pantry or wake me up—"

you're interrupted by jay pulling you by the arm, forcing you to find a place between his legs as he looks down at you. it takes everything in your power not to let your gaze wander down to his uncovered chest.

"stay up with me a little longer? i really like spending time with this nice version of you. let me cherish this before we go back to hating each other tomorrow, yeah?

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fandom-go-round · 2 years

Note

Could you do that one prompt of shy reader caught staring and having dirty thoughts but with Dwight, Jeff, Steve and Leon?

Warnings: Implied Sex, Teasing, Sexual Situations Embarrassment, Dirty Thoughts, Implied Canon Typical Violence, Secondhand Embarrassment

Dwight Fairfield:

Dwight already feels nervous when people stare at him and even more so when it’s you. He’s always liked you and with you staring at him, eyes dark and mind elsewhere, it makes him nervous. He doesn’t call you out about it thought, continuing to work gens and trying to find the exit.

He can’t stop the embarrassed sound from escaping him when he turns and sees you right behind him, eyes locked on his ass. You startle and finally seem to snap out of it, looking at his face and eyes going wide. You quickly run off after that, refusing to look in his eyes and sputtering out a response. Dwight is quick to shake off the encounter, even if you’re both too embarrassed to look at each other for the next few trails.

Jeff Johansen:

Jeff has no idea you’re staring at him, honestly. He’s been focusing on avoiding the Hag and you’ve been tagging along with him, making gens a lot easier. He does notice that you’re quieter than normal but shakes it off; you’ve never been a fan of the Hag and he’s not going to force you to talk about it now.

You’re both turning a corner when he hears you let out a yell behind him. He turns just in time to watch you trip over the completed gen, landing face first in the dirt. Your face is a mix of shock, embarrassment and mounting panic as both of your heartbeats sky rocket. Jeff doesn’t stay to find out if you run, booking it in the other direction. He never does find out what has you so distracted…

Steve Harrington:

This really isn’t Steve’s trail. He’s been running from gen to gen, trying to get things done and every time he turns around Legion is there. He’s spent more time getting away then getting things done but it makes sense. Even if it sucks. The only saving grace is that you seem to be moving through things, cleansing totems and completing gens.

He’s just finished another loop when he sees you tucked into a corner, taking a breather. Steve slides up next to you, starling and almost making you bolt. As he starts to reassure you, your eyes go wide, staring at him like a deer in headlights. He has no idea what’s happening at first, trying to get your attention before noticing that you’re looking at his chest. His face goes red once he realizes that Legion had torn his shirt to shreds, leaving his nipples out and perky. He doesn’t have time to explain before you’re running off, Steve cursing his luck once again.

Leon Kennedy:

The trial starts like any other; all of you are running for your lives and the killer hot on your trail. This time it’s Nemesis and Leon is quick to make himself disappear. He already has enough bad memories, not to mention he’s disliked by the behemoth. You stick with him as the trail goes on, only leaving to try and be a distraction. It doesn’t stop Leon from getting hit and finding a place to limp off too.

He’s just finished a gen when you run past, slowing down when you see him limping. You shake your med kit at him and gesture to a corner, Leon happily following after you. He’s trying his best to stay quiet but moans and grunts keep leaving his mouth. Your eyes are focused on wrapping his arm but he can feel your fingers shaking and breathing speeding up. He lets out a sigh of relief once you finish, giving you a smile but frowning when he sees you practically sprint away. It’s only later when Jill laughs at him about it that he realizes what happened and gets embarrassed himself.

#dbd imagines #dwight fairfield x reader #leon kennedy x reader #jeff johansen x reader #steve harrington x reader #dead by daylight imagines #dead by daylight #dwight fairfield #dbd dwight #leon kennedy #dbd leon #jeff johansen #dbd jeff #steve harrington #dbd steve

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idontunderstandchemistry · 1 year

Text

Indecent Proposal (An academic rivals to lovers fanfic) - Tim Drake × Latina!Fem!reader.

Sinopsis: Being a scholarship student at Gotham's most expensive school is not easy, especially when your academic rival, your nemesis, who coincidentally is the owner's son, decides to make you a rather usual proposition.

Tropes: Academic rivals-to-lovers, contract/bet, he loved her all this time, everyone else sees it except them, opposites attract, etc.

Author's Note: So, It is my first work here on Tumblr and just to warn you guys... English isn't my first language, I'm looking foward to improve, so I apologize in advance for any grammar mistakes. (By the way, I'm posting on Ao3 as well, however, there the story is already a few chapters ahead. Depending on the reception, I'll post them here too). Anyway, thank you for reading :)

Warnings: Blood depiction, mentions of past domestic abuse, knifes, needles, etc.

Wordcount: 3788 words

Chapter 1: Patching up and Making out

You were convinced Gotham City deserved the award of worst climate ever. Having lived most of your life here, you were used to it, but some days, like today, it was simply unbearable. The raindrops hit your window like bullets and the noise was such you simply couldn't sleep. Well, you weren't going to school until the cut on your cheek and your black eye healed, or at least were healed enough for you to be able of hiding it with makeup.

Since you couldn't sleep and you didn't want to think about the person who did this to you, you decided to study. The only way to not fall behind your academic nemesis, that smart ass of a playboy called Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne. As you sat by your desk and opened the chemystry book, you sighed. It was going to be a long week.

Around 4 a.m., you heard a bang coming from outside your house, like something falling hard and knoking over the rubbish bins. You froze. Couldn't it be… he, or could it? Your relatives had run after him, beated his ass him and threatened that if he ever came close to you again, they would end him. But men like him always have to throw the last punch. You took a deep breath and decided to got downstairs and end this yourself. You didn't want to live in fear anymore.

As you got to the kitchen, you picked a knife at the cutlery on the worktop and looked through the little window on the door. And as you prepared yourself to open it abruptedly and stab him, you heard a groan. He would never groan like this. When he was hurt, he never made a noise. Carefully, you opened the door and looked side to side, only to see a boy, around your age, hurt and bleeding, leaning on the wall beside the rubbish bins. You took a better look. He wasn't any boy. He was Red Fucking Robin.

— Uh… — He groaned, pressuring his stomach, that was bleeding. Then his head turned to you and his eyes widened — Great, Robin, being shot wasn't enough, you had to be seen by a civilian.

You left the knife at the worktop and came back to find him trying to tand up alone. You helped him and started to conduce him inside your house.

— Miss, i believe the exit is to the other side.

— If you really think I'm letting you go back to whatever fight you came from like this, you're very wrong — You said and he laughed, what he immediatedly regreted — Lets avoid laughs for now, ok?

He nodded.

You left him on the sofa and rushed to the kitchen again to fetch the first aids kit your mother, a nurse, taught you to use. You ran back to the living room just to find him groaning in frustration while trying to make the scanner in his arm work. He was bleeding in the sofa, soaked in water. How the hell were you going to explain it to your parents? It doesn't matter now.

— Do you even know how to use this? — He asked as you opened the kit.

— Do you know how to shut up?

— Fine.

— Take off your shirt — You said and he froze — Or you rather chocke to death on your own blood?

— I can't believe I'm being bossed around by a civilian — He said, stending up and starting to take his armor off.

— Yeah, and i can't believe I'm patching a superhero up, but here we are.

— Vigilante, actually.

— You're really annoying. Remind me imensively someone i hate — You said while selecting the things you would use on him.

He sighed and held out his hand to you. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

— I'm Red Robin. Pleasure to meet you, thank you in advance for patching me up — He said. You took his hand.

— I'm Y/N — You started — No problem. Let me help you with this.

— They're quite heavy — He said while you held his armor so he could get out of it.

— I'm not afraid of hard work.

You leaned his armor on a armchair and he was left only with the sluttiest thing a man could wear, a very tight black t-shirt, and a mask. You helped him to take the shirt off and had to hold yourself to not express any amazement for his impeccable physic.

— Right, seat again — You said and he obbeyed. You kneeled and came closer so you could inspect his wound, what seemed to make him very unconfortable, but you honestly couldn't care less, he was bleeding on your mother's sofa. It was close to his lower stomach, close to his v line and very close to his very distracting abs. You avaliated the wound the best you could — So, good news, you wont die, bad news, you'll need stitches.

— Do you know how to sew flesh? — He asked, you nodded.

— But i'm not good at it and i don't want you screaming so my neighbors think someone is been murdered at my house.

— I have a high pain tolerance. Give it a go — He said and you nodded.

First you dipped a cotton pad in an antiseptic solution and then brought it close to the wound, making him shiver in pain and lean his head back against the backrest of the sofa. If this wasn't a dangerous situation, you wouldn't have scolded yourself for thinking he was cute like that.

— I'm sorry, I know it hurts — You said as you cleaned the area. He looked down to you and for a second your eyes locked together, but you weren't going to interupt the work. — Stupid coment, i know. You must be used to it.

— Happily, i'm not as used as you may think — He said with a grin — So… are you on nurse school or something?

You laughed.

— Do I look like a nurse?

— You're angry like one.

— No. I'm still a highschooler. Going to my Junior year — You said as you continued to clean the wound — My mother is a nurse. She taught me a thing or two.

— I hope you don't have to use these abiities frequently — He said, flexing his arms behind his head.

— Well, it's not everyday you have a bleeding vigilante to practice on — You joked and he laughed. Changing the cotton pad, he shivered under your touch. — Sorry.

— Can I ask you something?

— You're already asking.

— I hope i'm not intruding, but…

— You want to know about my black eye. don't you? — He nodded. You sighed — I ended a relationship a while ago. My ex wasn't… well, he didn't wanted it to end, so he did this to me.

— I'm very sorry — He said after a while — This shouldn't have happened to you.

— It shouldn't happen to anyone — You stated — Thank you.

— So… i bet people wanted to know what happened, at your school. I would, if one of my classmates appeared to class with a blackeye and a cut on the cheek.

— Then you're a better man then most — You said, smiling saddly at him — But since it happened I'm not going to school. I study at a school filled with rich kids. Gossip spread faster there than lice at a nursery. And I'm a scholarship holder, so i can't really let people gossip about me.

— I see… Well, i hope things get better to you soon.

— They will. Thank you. I'm going to start stitching you now. Try to stay still.

— Sorry to interupt — Your mother said, arms crossed, standing in front of the stairs. The blood left your and Red Robin's face — Why is my daugther kneeled in front of a shirtless man on my living room?

— Mom, i can explain — You said, standing up.

— Oh, i hope you can. Why is he wearing a mask? — She asked, getting closer to you guys — Oh, he's bleeding.

— Hello, Mrs — He said — I would stand, but your daughter just put a needle through my skin.

— You're one of them, aren't you?

— Yes, Mrs — He said. Your mother signed for you to give her your position and asked you to get some more supplies.

She being there ended up being great, since she did in 10 minutes what would take you a whole hour.

— Can I ask you some questions, Mr. Red Robin? — She asked while she bandaged him up.

— Of course, Mrs. Y/L/N.

— How old is Nightwing?

— Mom! — You exclaimed. Your mother was saved by Nightwing once and since then, she couldn't stop telling you how he was the son in law she asked to God.

Red Robin laughed a little, already feeling better, both by the care and good humor of your mother.

— I cannot give out personal information of teammates, but he is around six years older than your daugther — He said.

— A shame — Your mother, that wasn't a big supporter of relationships with age gaps, said — I was hoping to have him as my son in law, one day.

— Well, there's always Red Hood. He is not much older than your daughter.

— No, he is too agressive — She said with a annoyed expression — I've been taking care of some men that he sent to the hospital. If he had killed them it would've been better. This family has had enough of agressive men already.

— I assure you, ma'am, he wouldn't touch a woman to hurt her. Well, maybe if she was a villain and tried to kill him first, but he is not agressive towards women at all. Batman would never allow that.

— Still. He makes my work very difficulf, I couldn't trat him like a mother in law should. How about you, dear? How old are you?

— Mom, thats enough! — You exclaimed, embarassed.

Red Robin bursted into laugher and you had to cover his mouth with your hand so he wouldn't wake your father. Though you doubted anything could awake him now.

— I'm just trying to help, Y/N. You have dreadful taste in men.

— I'd love to date your daughter, Mrs. Y/L/N — He said and your eyes widened as your face turned red — But it wouldn't really fit my lifestyle. Nor the lifestyle of my teammates. It's better if she find a good man that don't try to do justice with his own hands.

— Well, i tried — She said, standing up — I'm going to bed now. Do you need us to call you a cab or something…? I don't know how you bats move around.

— No need, ma'am. I'll ask Nightwing to fetch me. Thank you, for everything — He said and your mother smiled and went upstairs.

You sat by his side.

— I'm very sorry. Forget everything she said. She's crazy — You said, trying to hide your face on your hands.

— No, you have nothing to feel sorry about. She's a really nice lady — He said, smiling — Shouldn't you go to bed? It's almost 04:30.

— And leave you here, knowing damn well that you're stubborn and would try to get away alone? — You asked, laughing — No way. Besides, this is a latino household. Here we wait for people to get in cars before going away. And I don't fell sleepy rich now

— Ok, ok Miss Y/L/N.

Seated beside one another, with thighs and arms touching lightly, you chatted in low voice. He was very curious about you, and kept asking many questions, only asking that, in return, you didn't ask him anything too personal, since that, because of the medication, he would be an easier target. He asked about what you wanted to become after school, what was your favorite color, favorite school subject, your favorite food, if you had any pets, etc. Even the harsh themes, like politics, were an easy topic with him.

— Honestly, I don't understand how someone can treat you badly — He said with his arms crosses above his ches and his head resting on the backrest, just like you — You're such a nice girl.

— You said I was angry.

— Well, i have this theory, my siblings hate it. I think people are like onions — He started, eyes wide and childish smile. What a handsome smile — You have to peel them to really know them.

— It's a good theory — You said, thoughtful — But how can we know when we've peeled enough to know that's not worth it?

— You say it because of your ex? — He asked.

You thought for a while, the nodded.

— But not only because of him — You said — Well, I guess that in his case it was kind of my fault.

— Hey, don't say that. The guy was an asshole, that's nothing to do with you.

— I know that — You said — I guess what I'm trying to say is that, from the very beginning, after one or two layers, I realized he wasn't actually sweet or caring or peaceful. I knew he was agressive when he first raise his voice and told me to shut up. But something inside of me say “Nah, whatever it's wrong with him, we can fix it”. It wasn't that deep in our relationship when he was an asshole towards me for the first time, I could have abandoned the ship, but I didn't.

— You know… — He started — I know a woman that has been through the same thing. Except she knew from the very beginning that he was agressive. Even before getting close with him. And she is such an smart woman, like, she is a fucking psychiatrist. That's such a difficult major… She was abused in their relationship for years, but she managed to get out. She told me that it's common that victims of domestic abuse feel kinda… Paralized, you know? Kinds numb. And the abusers, these motherfuckers are great manipulators. It wasn't your fault. Believe me. What happened was everything but your fault.

— Thank you. It means a lot to me — You said, really thinking about what he said — But I should've guessed. Even his kisses were rough. Not in the good way, obviously.

— You said not only because of him… There's someone else treating you badly?

— What you gonna do? Spank them? — You asked and you both laughed. After some time, you said — There's this boy on my class, I bet the motherfucker is happy as fuck that I'm missing class, that's the only way he can get better grades than mine anyway.

He laughed and you covered his mouth.

— Control your tone of voice, mister! — You exclaimed in a whisper — My father isn't as nice as my mother, and I warrant you, he would not be pleased to se his little girl seated beside a shirtless man.

— I'm sorry — He said with his muffled voice — If you help me, I can put my shirt back on.

— No, I'm enjoing the view.

— Good to know — He said with a smirk on his face — So, about this boy. Are you guys in some kind of competition? What did he do for you to hate him?

You reflected for some seconds.

— He never did anything directly to affect me — You started — But he thinks he is better than everyone else, so i made it my personal mission to prove him wrong.

— How do you know? He said he thinks he is better?

— No, but it's not hard to read that motherfucker's face. That stupid little grin of his. The thing's i'd do to wash that grin off of his face — You said, feeling your heart beat faster. You hated the effect Tim Drake had on you — He looks at me like i'm some kind of exotic bird, like he never saw someone like me in such a expensive school. I don't know, maybe he is just elitist and i created this competition on my head.

— I bet he doesn't mean it.

— You don't know him. He is insufferable — You comented, playing with the ends of your hair — But it's a fair match. He is probably the only one with intelectual resources to defy me academically. And at least his stupid face keeps me inspired to study more and beat his ass.

Red Robin laughed silently.

— You're so funny.

— If I didn't know better i'd say you're hitting on me.

— Well, i don't know if we are ever going to meet again, gotta shoot my shot — He said with a pretty smile on his face and you chuckled. Vigilantes were such charming people.

— A shame, i'm not that easy — You replied, slightly leaning toward him.

— I'll have to work harder next time we see each other, then — He said, approximating his face to yours.

— I thought you said our next encounter wasn't guaranteed.

— It isn't, but I guess I'll look around next time i appear, to see if you're nearby. Of course I'd rather you to stay out of trouble — He said, puting a lock of your hair behind your ear — And I hope I'm not covered in blood next time we meet.

— I hope for it too — You said — Though i wouldn't complain about your shirtless state.

— I wouldn't mind being shirtless around you — He said and then the screen he had on his bracelet ringed, like a notification, making you guys move apart — Nightwing is coming to pick me up — He said with a sad smile on his face.

— Wow, better than an uber — You said, getting up — Let's get you dressed, then.

You helped him to get dressed while you chatted for a little while, always sharing smiles and laughs. A shame such a nice guy couldn't share his identity. Of course, you didn't feel ready for whatever that was going with the both of you, definitely there was something going on, but you wouldn't mind getting to know him better. To "peel" his layers like an onion. You sat by his side again, to wait for Nightwing to arive.

— Can I kiss you goodbye? — He asked in a whisper, after some silent time.

Your eyes widened and your heart skipped a beat. You didn't know what to say. So he felt it too?

— I… don't know if it's a good idea — You said, trying not to blush.

— It's okay if you don't want to, I just wanted to thank you in some way and in the comics, the characters… — He said, probably more nervous than you, scratching the back of his neck — You know what, nevermind, it's stupid.

— You know what? — You said , turning your face to him, that looked at you, confused. Or maybe he was something else. It was hard to differentiate behind the white lenses — I think i deserve a kiss that's not filled with rage.

He smiled.

— I bet you do — He said.

His hands cupped your face gently, smoothly in a way you've never felt before. With an amazing smile, he approached your face and brushed your lips to his, lightly, and then, he kissed you. He was the right amout of gentlemanness and the right amount of roughness, his thumbs lightly caressed your cheeks and you could almost feel the heat coming from his body. Shyly, your hands got to his neck and his hair. Everything about this man was soft and sweet, and for someone that only had known bitter and sharp, it was something dangerous, something to what you could easily become an addict.

— You can slow down if you want to — He said, between kisses.

— I'm sorry — You said, trying to be more restrained, less eager for him — It's the only way I know.

— Good that Nightwing is 15 minutes distant, then — He said, smiling before kissing you again.

It was supposed to be only one kiss, but you don't know how many kisses you've shared with him. Who was counting, anyway? In a certain way, it was also incredbly romantic. His gentle grip on your hair, the way he caressed your cheeks. Everything was so fucking perfect you hoped it never ended, but good things never last. Nightwing arived shortly after and you just knew because of the knocking on the kitchen door, that broke the kiss.

— It's him — He said, still holding you face — I gotta go.

You helped him stand and leaded him to the kitchen door, where he stopped and left a quick kiss on your lips before you open the door.

— Thank you for patching him up — Nightwing said as you helped Red Robin out.

— Oh, you're welcome — You said, a little blushed, and Nightwing seemed to percieve that — Anyway, he probably should be checked by a doctor or something, so you guys can be sure he'll heal correctly.

— Don't worry, young lady — The older man said with an amazing smile. Damn, every vigilante had to have a million dollar smile? Was it like a condition to wear a mask and throw some punches around? — We will take good care of him.

— Good bye, Y/N — Red Robin said, sad smile on his face. The sun started to rise on the horizon, but it was too dark for you to really see most of his features.

— Bye — You said, watching him walk away — It was a pleasure to meet you.

— It was a pleasure to kiss you — He said with a wink and you slapped your face lightly.

You wouldn't be surprised to wake up on your bed right now, but it wasn't the case. The rain had stopped, the sun was rising and you didn't felt afraid anymore. This day was getting impressively good.

***

You spent the rest of the week thinking about that kiss, what was good. It made you realize that there are actually good people out there, that wont treat their partners as shit. When you got back to school, Alysane Lewis, your best friend, approached you happily to update you on the news they haven't told you by message yet. Apparently, not much after you got "chickenpox" as said in the medical certificate your mother got from a friend at the hospital, your nemesis got appendicites and had to have surgery and was resting at home and shouldn't return to the classes utill next week. Besides not being happy about Drake's illness, you were reliefd. It meant you had time to recover from your abscence without his arrogant presence and annoying smirk.

— Aly, i've got to tell you something — You said during luch break. They looked at you with suspicion in their eyes — I didn't tell you before because i wanted to see your reaction.

— Just tell me, don't play with my heart! — Aly said, already excited.

— You wont believe who kissed me somedays ago.

— Who? It wasn't that douchbag you call your ex, right?

— No, I'll never even share oxygen with him again — You said — It was Red Robin.

— Shut up!

— I'm serious! — You exclaimed, laughing.

— Tell me everything about it. I'll know if you're lying!

— Well, I got nothing to worry about, because it isn't a lie.

#Spotify #tim drake #tim drake smut #tim drake x reader #red robin headcanon #red robin x reader #red robin #timothy drake #red robin x y/n #batfamily

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lets-try-some-writing · 1 year

Note

I don't know if you still want writing ideas And I pretty much just started following you so I'm not sure what you would want? But I just read your precious "starscream knitts like a madman" post. And the other night I had a dream of Starscream selling plushies(to humans). So my sugestion/2am thought, How would starscream go about "selling" plushies, or whatever stuff he knitted to humans? There is after all, only so many mittens the vehicons can take before they become more mittens then bot.

Yes yes yes and more yes. Such a fun little idea, I will happily write a little headcannon on it for you dear anon!

Starscream's Knitting Business

Starscream is a notorious knitter. Every single bot on the Nemesis has something from him. The Vehicons have coats, mittens, hats, scarves, and every other conceivable form of clothing in abundance. Despite the fact that they don't need them and the cloth only ever gets stuck in their plating, the Vehicons love the clothing. As for high command, they have an equally full wardrobe as well. That is all except Megatron, he can go frag himself in Starscream's opinion.

But as knitting is Starscream's way of working out his anger (and boy does he have a lot of anger) he has quickly run out of things to give to those on the nemesis. And so to find a way to get rid of his completed works and make the event profitable in some way, Starscream has turned to business.

In order to keep a low profile Starscream set himself up a website to sell his knitted masterpieces. It is the most egotistical thing on the internet and he is not at all shy about proclaiming his superiority to his potential customers. Surprisingly, despite his god complex and very obvious aggression, humans flock to his website and before he even realized it he had orders pouring in.

Not one to disappoint, Starscream discreetly began shipping out his finished items in a signature black and red box with no return address. His knitted works quickly rose in popularity due to the mysterious factor involved and Starscream immediately took hold of his new fame to make himself an even bigger icon. Mean little notes and poems were added to his boxes when he sent them out. He also started putting little Cybertronain glyphs on his knitted items, usually somewhere obscure just to increase the mystery factor. And after receiving a ton of positive feedback from humans who found his unique business fun and interesting, Starscream only continued to amp up his personal touch.

Before he knew it, Starscream not only had a profitable business, but a loyal fanbase who were eager to see what other angry notes and knitted things he would make. Some of his most fanatical followers buy things in bulk just because they want to see what little thing he added to his box to make it interesting. Starscream occasionally makes special little boxes with whole poems in Cybertronian or artworks of Cybertron alongside the kitted stuff just for those followers. Because of this, whole conspiracy boards have also popped up surrounding his business, each theorizing who or what he is, where he is from, and what his aim is. Starscream thinks it is hilarious and loves to screw with each and every one of the theorizers by added something ominous to one of his boxes or hinting at his alien nature only to go completely silent on the subject.

His fanbase loves it. By the time his business really gains popularity, no one really buys his boxes because they want some homemade knitted knit knacks. No, they buy his boxes because they want to unravel the mystery that is himself. But unfortunately for the humans, they will never know the truth and Starscream will continue to mess with them for the kick of it.

The biggest running theories created by his fanbase are that Starscream is part of the Illuminati and is trying to run an experiment on manipulating the population. Another is that he is some form of time traveler warning them about what is to come in the future some obscure code and pictures. Some think that he is some sort of secret agent trying to recruit those able to unravel the mystery of his boxes. A few even believe that he is some form of alien trying to integrate into human culture (this one mostly stemmed from his early days on the internet trying to figure out how to act normal).

Starscream thinks they are all hilarious and will do his best to feed the biggest theories every now and then to keep the hype up. He also likes having cash because it means he can buy luxury items from earth and add them to his stash. He is the type of mech to keep nice things and only ever use them to show off. Knockout may be a little jealous of the nice things Starscream accumulates with his wealth but he doesn't voice it.

Extra

Theorist: Guys! I think I have done it! I have unraveled who the person running 'Superior Knitting' is!

Starscream: *snickering* Oh have you now

Theorist: After hours of research and countless hundreds of dollars used to buy Superior Knitting products for analysis, I can proudly say that the mastermind behind it is a Russian spy!

Starscream: *Cackling* Oh Primus that is good!

Starscream: *Furiously typing a new post for his website to partially confirm and contradict the theory* I can't wait to see the chaos!

#maccadam #transformers shenanigans #transformers prime #starscream #starscream knits because I say so #it terrifies everyone on the nemesis #especially when they can hear him cackling from his console #he enjoys messing with the humans far too much

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epiclamer · 1 year

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RAT

write some h/c for me

Alright beetle ;)

Benign Betrayer

“Hey.”

An incredibly casual thing to say in such a situation. A word reserved for friends or newly acquaintances, used in context to a meet-up or bumping into one another. Hey, would not be the appropriate term used to greet one’s enemy at their doorstep whilst covered in blood.

“Uh… hi.” Hero’s hands unconsciously clutched the edge of the door tighter, the sight in front of them couldn’t blame them; Villain looked like something straight out of a horror film.

They were covered in scratches and scars, bleeding from various open wounds—some visible on the surface, some hidden under layers of raggedy clothing. Villain sported bruises young and old across their body and their face was red and puffy from crying, their voice remained hoarse as evidence to screaming.

Evidently, someone had devoted precious time into taking the villain apart, piece by piece. Now as they stood in front of their nemesis they looked beyond broken.

Villain cleared their throat with a rough cough, “do you mind if I…” they gestured with their hand at the door.

“Oh, yes, sorry of course.” Hero stepped aside, pushing the door back until it was open wide enough to seem welcoming. It wasn’t that they didn’t want the villain inside, it was simply that they hadn’t expected it.

They hadn’t expected any of this.

Hell, the last time they saw the villain they were being interrogated on Supervillain. Pressed to expose all of the other’s secrets at gunpoint, but they hadn’t caved.

Except once.

While their head was being shoved underwater for longer than humanly possible and their lungs burnt with the lack of air. Finally, the villain had begged for mercy when their head was pulled up one last time and in exchange for their life they surrendered the tiniest bit of information.

The absolute smallest amount that they could get away with. Villain refused to be labelled a traitor, but they couldn’t help it for their life.

Seeing the criminal at their doorstep was honestly the last place Hero expected to see them after their escape. Especially in such a delicate condition, but they weren’t going to turn them away either.

“It’s funny,” Hero voiced, following after the villain and into their apartment, shutting the door behind them. “I would’ve thought Superhero’s wounds healed on you already. What with the whole escape and disappearance shtick.”

Villain stood, out of place in the lavish housing around them, and let the hero guide them to the living room couch. “Oh, they have.”

Hero ventured into the kitchen for the first-aid kit before they returned, puzzled. “What do you mean? You look the same as when you left…”

Trying not to think too hard on the situation surrounding how Villain ended up with the lacerations, Hero began to patch them up. Years of medical field training proving itself useful and skillfully in their work. One thing they knew for sure was that if they got too wrapped up in their head, they would get sloppy. Villain didn’t need sloppy right now, in their state they needed a surgeon.

“Yeah, well, Supervillain got word that I ratted before I could even make it to my front door.” Villain flinched when the disinfectant in Hero’s hand hit its first cut. “It’s safe to say, they weren’t very pleased.”

A terrible mix of guilt and pity found its way to Hero’s stomach. When they had arrested the villain a month ago they never imagined this happening. They had hoped for the villain’s safety that they would pull one of their tricks and wriggle their way out well before they could be tortured. And if worse came to worse, Hero was more than ready to simply unchain them so they could get back to the supervillain and forget any of this ever happened.

But they were too late. Besides, despite everything, Villain was considered an enemy to both sides now and it was Hero’s fault.

“I’m sorry.” The crime-stopper’s work was getting clumsier with every thought racing through their mind.

“You were just doing your job. I don’t blame you.” Villain winced when the other prepared for stitching, watching in denied fear as they thread the needle and prepped their skin.

Taking a deep breath, Hero tried to steady their hand, when that plan failed miserably they looked up to see the villain’s half-lidded eyes.

They looked defeated, all of their energy used in trying to keep themselves alive and now they were safe. With Hero, they felt safe with Hero. Although they shouldn’t feel comfort with their nemesis so close-by, they couldn’t help the surge of relief each time the other’s hands were on their skin.

“Why did you come to me?” Frustration built in their gut, masking their guilt with anger, yet they were only upset with themselves. “I arrested you, I sent you to the Agency. I should be the last person in which you seek salvation.” They put the needle down, unable to continue while overwhelmed.

Villain smiled slightly, the edges of their lips curving upwards at the sound of Hero’s voice. Their eyes were comfortably closed now and Hero would’ve been assured they were going to fall asleep at any second if it wasn’t for their racing heartbeat. The criminal was afraid of needles, of course, they didn’t want to see the stitches happen.

“Ever since you confessed to me you’ve been distant. Don’t think I haven’t noticed,” both of their eyes opened to glare amusedly at the hero, then they shut once more. “Maybe you think that if you push me away or get rid of me then it will be like nothing ever happened, but you never even let me confess back, huh?”

Hero stared in bewilderment, a gentle blush creeping up their neck in shame. They hadn’t thought it was possible for the villain to love them back. It never even occurred to them.

“Either way, you’ll never be free of me. I’m going to pester you until you kiss me or we both die.” They had their full grin back now, the stupid smirk Hero was head over heels for.

And they didn’t need another sign to take the kiss they had dreamt of for years.

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