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gothamite-rambler · 12 days ago

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Super Villain Lex Luthor unaware who Batman is and regrets it.

Context: Clark's warning to Bruce that Lex was after him (Batman) wasn't enough to stop Lex from kidnapping Bruce's son. Lex wants Batman to aid him in defeating Superman (something Batman refuses to do for numerous reasons) or he'll harm his son. Big mistake, Lex.

Lex (broadcasting on multiple screens around Gotham and in his hiding place): Batman, show yourself and work with me, or this brat will die!

Lex pulled back the curtain to reveal Damian Wayne, dressed in his Robin suit, tied up and dangling over a vat of Joker toxin. His expression was one of annoyance rather than fear, looking utterly unimpressed.

Robin (indifferent): Hey.

Batman (enraged): Is that… my fucking son?!

Oracle (trying to remain calm): Batman, relax.

Lex (mocking): What do you think will happen when he falls into the Joker vat? Not great things, I imagine. God, I’m so evil!

Batman (stammering): Joker… Joker… Joker… Toxin. Is that Joker toxin?

Batman let out a stoic laugh that escalated into a chilling cackle, implying he would not be nice when beating up Lex. Oracle, Nightwing, Red Robin, and Red Hood were unnerved by its unsettling quality.

Nightwing (referring to Lex): Yeah… he’s in danger.

Oracle (concerned): Cool, you’re enraged. I get it, but you have to remain calm.

Batman (voice rising): He’s got my youngest son over a vat of JOKER TOXIN! I cannot BE CALM!

Oracle removed her earpiece, overwhelmed by the loud rage from her usually stoic friend and boss.

Oracle: I’m not the one who kidnapped Robin! So don’t shout in my ear! God, I get it! You care about your kids, but you need to remain calm. Practice deep breathing, clench your jaw, punch a wall—whatever it takes, just stay tranquil!

Batman (breathing heavily): Tranquil? Okay… Okay… Okay… Okay… Okay… Okay!

Nightwing (in the comm): Hey, Batman, I get you're pissed off, but listen to Oracle. You've been through a lot this month, but don't let it drive you insane.

Red Hood: Nah, let him go off. This is… going to be entertaining.

Nightwing (scolding tone): Stop it, you're not helping.

Red Hood (shrugging): Wasn't intending to. I love this side of him. Let him know to not hold back.

Oracle: Red Hood, silence! Batman, be calm!

Batman (his voice low and disturbingly calm): He has my son over the one thing I fear most… hn… I am tranquil. I am tranquil. Did you find the room they’re in?

Oracle (concerned by Batman’s unsettling calm): Take a right, and you’ll see a black door. That’s where he is.

Batman bolted down the hall, repeating his calming mantra.

Batman: I am tranquil. I am calm. Not thinking about the numerous ways I can break Lex's bones. I am tranquil… tranquil… tranquil.

Oracle (hearing him): Oh yeah, that’s a healthy coping technique.

Lex (in the secret room, waiting for Batman's next move and unaware of how enraged the hero was): Your choice, Batman! I’ll give you five minutes. Yeah… I’m fair like that. Honestly, him with the League of Villains would be a great addition.

Robin hadn't been listening to the man's ramblings as he spun slowly counterclockwise, unfazed and focused on his homework.

Robin (uninterested): Shoot, I forgot to finish my essay for class. Eh, I’ll do the rest tomorrow. Mm… I’m getting tired.

He yawned.

Lex (insulted): Could you be any more intimidated, you stupid brat?!

Robin (yawning again): Nuh-uh.

Lex: I have you hung over a vat of Joker—

Robin (interrupting): Don’t care.

Lex: You could be driven insane—

Robin (singing): Nope!

Robin snickered, finding Lex utterly unimposing. It baffled him that the Kents had found him intimidating.

Lex (right eyebrow twitching, frustrated): God, this is why I hate children.

Robin (snide): I get you have some stronghold over Metropolis or whatever, but you're not special. Kryptonite—it's not hard to acquire.

Lex (holding his hand up, threatening to strike the child): Shut your damn mouth!

Robin (teasingly): Nuh-uh. Batman is not going to be kind to you. I hope you have good insurance.

Lex (scoffing): He’s all talk.

Robin chuckled sarcastically, amused by Lex’s underestimation of his father. Batman, in question, listened to the entire exchange as he made his way to the room, his anger like a ticking time bomb.

Oracle monitored the feed, getting closer to disabling the camera. Batman's comms had gone silent for the last two minutes, raising concern for her and the other heroes in the building.

Oracle (in comms): Batman, you haven’t talked in a concerning amount of time, but when you get in the room, don’t lose it—why did his comm disconnect… Batman? Nightwing, can you talk to him?

Nightwing (accepting the impending chaos): I can’t. I think he removed it.

Oracle (her eyes widening): Oh… oh no.

Batman’s comm lay shattered on the ground as he approached the black door. Two and a half minutes remained as the hero kicked in the door. Lex stood in the room, holding a small remote control, ready to drop Robin into the Joker toxin. The viewers watching the livestream from their TVs, phones, and computers in Gotham couldn't see Batman himself, but they sat on the edge of their seats, awaiting his next move.

Robin: Hey, Batman.

Batman saw his son suspended over the vat, Lex grinning smugly and the countdown ticking down. Any semblance of calm dissipated, replaced by heavy, angry breaths.

Oracle (acting fast): Cool, cool, cool, working on cutting the feed.

Robin (mocking): Yeah… you fricked up.

Lex: Oh please, he won’t do—

Batman walked over to Lex and yanked him out of the camera view. All that was heard were Lex's screams and the sound of a fist making contact with flesh. The camera immediately cut away, leaving viewers with black and white bars waving across the screen as the fight began, leaving only Damian to witness the chaos for a few seconds before closing his eyes. Even he couldn't bear to witness this level of violence, though he couldn't deny it had been impressive.

Nightwing and Red Hood, trapped in a green room, were among the few who watched the active feed on a small TV.

Nightwing (concerned): Probably for the best she cut the feed.

Red Hood (proud of his father): All right, that means we sit back, relax, and watch Batman do what I’ve been wanting him to do for a long time.

Nightwing: Yeah, but with the Joker involved.

Red Hood (shrugging): This is a close second.

Nightwing nodded in agreement as they settled into the purple couch when suddenly a vent at the top of the room broke open, and Red Robin dropped in.

Red Robin (out of breath): Did I get—Damn it!

His shoulders had slumped in defeat, realizing his escape plan had led him right back to the green room.

Nightwing: Take a seat and watch the onslaught.

Red Robin threw his hands up in surrender and joined his brothers on the couch to witness their father's long-deserved vendetta against Lex Luthor.

Red Robin: You think he's also holding resentment for when Lex kicked him in the—

Red Hood and Nightwing (at the same time): I'd feel the same way.

Three minutes later, Oracle's phone rang. The number was unknown, but she answered it anyway.

Oracle: Yes?

Superman (concerned): Does he… does he need me there?

Oracle: No. No, I can see the footage, and he’s good. Lex is down and bleeding. Bruce is getting Damian out of the trap; we’re all good.

Superman: That’s my best buddy. I’m glad I told him ahead of time. Sadly, Damian got kidnapped, but everything is well there. Tell him thanks.

Oracle: Totally. Bye.

Oracle ended the call and tapped her finger on her desk, pondering one important question.

Oracle (confused anger): How did he even get my number?! One thing at a time, girl. Let me see if he kept his phone on him.

Oracle quickly dialed the number of Batman's spare cell phone (she didn’t leave home without it). He answered on the other end.

Batman (hugging Damian): Everything’s clear. I’ll get to Nightwing, Red Hood, and Red Robin in a moment.

Oracle (smiling at the father-son moment on the feed): I get it; you have to finish hugging your precious baby. Understandable. Don't worry, no one in Gotham witnessed you beating the crap out of Lex.

Batman ended the call abruptly, as was his style, then patted Damian on the back as the happy boy hugged his father. Oracle chuckled to herself, finally relaxing after what had turned out to be a (mostly) successful mission.

The End... for now.

Lead up to this -> Lex and Clark fight over being Bruce's friend

Beginning -> Lex Luthor being oblivious that Bruce Wayne hates him

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l1zardl1ps · 7 months ago

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Soooo first thing’s first - this idea was entirely inspired by misa1’s long-running NBC a fanfic, 100 Women. All credit for the idea of L, S & B drawing wieners on stuff goes to them (it was absolutely their idea originally). Seriously though, their Nightmare Before Christmas fics are fantastic - I’ve been reading their stuff for *years.* To say that I recommend their work is an understatement!

After reading the Paint chapter of 100 Women, I started wondering what it would look like if L, S & B took their wiener vandalism beyond the walls of their fort and maybe targeted Town Hall (or in this case, the Mayor’s hearse). From there, the idea for this super short scribble comic was born and I had to get it out. One of these days I’ll do something a little more polished and in color

#misa1 #fanfiction fanart #seriously check out misa1’s work they’re amazing #the nightmare before christmas #nightmare before christmas #jack skellington #sally finkelstein #lock shock and barrel #short comic #doodle #my art

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diamondzart · 10 months ago

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DID “DESPICABLE ME 4” TRAILER LEAVE YOU DISAPPOINTED? There’s a solution! :D

My very good friend @annchanorsomethin writes THIS AMAZING FIC on AO3 for over a year already! I am following it since November 2022 and let me tell ya, I wish this was the way Illumination treated their canon. I don’t think this amount of planning went into the real DM4, judging from the trailer…

And for those of you who were upset about the absence of Dr Nefario and Dru, this fic has you covered, believe me 😏

SUMMARY:

After Balthazar Bratt's defeat, everything seems to go better than ever: Gru and Lucy are back working for the AVL and Gru's overly enthusiastic brother, Dru is the new bad guy in town... or is he? The illusion of everything going so well fades, as the past comes back to haunt the family, threatening to destroy them once and for all... If it wasn't for the most passionate of the family doing everything in their power to protect what they love most - even if it means to step over the bounds of time and space itself.

Rated M for possible graphic depictions of violence in the future (though for now it stays in PG, I think). Features Professor Rott as the main antagonist – the original character inspired by early concept arts for Gru from late 2000s, the idea and design of Rott belong to @elitadream

This post also features original concept art made by me, styled to mimic Eric Guillon’s (official concept artist from Illumination) style, so it looks more like a real DM4 concept. I really, really hope this story will find more followers, because it totally deserves them! For now there are 11 chapters, and there will be more!

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oneweirdbookaddict · 4 months ago

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Are you still doing fic requests? I've always had this weird headcanon that Four eats four times as much as a normal person (cuz he's four people lol). What if he was too shy to tell the others that he eats the equivalent of half the team's food so he's starving himself? What if he and Wild were buffet buddies? The possibilities are endless! Feel free to go angst or fluff or humour, or to ignore my ask altogether! Love your work~

Hey fun fact this was supposed to be fluff 😂

I’m always doing requests! I love doing them, so if anyone has any I’d be thrilled to write it!

Thank you, lovely anon! I hope you like it!

1695 words, warnings for malnutrition? Kinda? Accidental but not really starving yourself? Eating issues? And one (1) very brief, undescribed mention of vomiting. Let me know if anyone wants me to add something!

~~~~

Four hides it well, in the beginning.

When they’re still fresh in supplies, coming across towns on a regular basis, they’re in the woods where he can sneak off and find some berries or fruit if he’s lucky.

The others catch him snacking, and he shrugs it off as a personal preference to snack during the day instead of having full meals.

And it works.

For a while.

Until they stop coming across towns, they leave the safety of the woods, and they’re running low on supplies.

At first, he tries saving the food Wild makes from breakfast, stretching it and eating on the road until lunch, doing the same with his lunch, and then stretching out dinner until he goes to bed.

But then he’s aching with hunger all day.

So he tries eating the full meal, which… well, helps for a little bit. Then he’s starving again.

Either way, he’s practically starving himself.

He didn’t think the effects would be… this bad.

But he gets lightheaded, dizzy, any time he moves quickly he’s convinced he’s going to either pass out or throw up for a second.

Once, in the middle of the night, he woke up shaking uncontrollably. Blankets did nothing- he was shaking until his muscles ached and he was so nauseous.

Somehow, he’d managed to crawl out of his bedroll, stagger far enough away from camp to throw up his dinner, swear Hyrule to secrecy, and go back to sleep.

The others notice, of course. He must look terrible, he feels terrible, he’s so hungry, all the time, and the lack of proper nutrients to his body makes him exhausted.

They’re convinced he's sick- which… maybe he is. Technically. He’s not… healthy.

Wars always looks at him with an understanding glance when it comes up, never arguing with him.

Just always finds a way to sneak him an apple, or even an orange if they find a tree across the massive plains of Wild’s Hyrule.

So he’s not surprised, that when the awful shakiness comes back again, this time in the evening as they’re getting ready for bed, Wars knows what’s going on.

He’s leaning against a tree, ignoring the rumbling of his stomach, fighting to focus on the book in front of him.

His head keeps drooping, though, eyes falling shut, until he dips too much and jolts right back awake.

“Goddess, Smithy, just go to sleep. You’re clearly exhausted.” Legend jokes softly, sitting next to him.

His stomach growls. Loudly.

He doesn’t feel well.

“Hey, you hungry? Four?” Legend feels his forehead, arm wrapping around him when he groans softly.

Wars glances up at them, standing.

The veteran digs in his bag for a moment before sighing. “I’ve got nothing to eat.

Wars produces an orange from out of nowhere, peeling it and handing him a slice. “You alright? Just hungry?”

He accepts the orange, popping into his mouth with a shrug. “I… just feel… weird.”

Wars nods, handing him another couple slices. “I get that too. Low blood sugar- your body isn’t able to release enough glucose into your bloodstream, causing all sorts of adverse effects.”

He nods, finishing up the orange.

“Sugary foods help. Pretty much any fruit, juices, honey. Oranges are my go to.” The captain smiles gently, handing him a cup of water.

“Thank you.” He says quietly, already feeling a ton better.

Wars nods, patting his shoulder before moving away again. “I’m off to sleep, need anything else?”

He shakes his head, getting another smile.

“Alrighty, if you need anything, you can wake me up. I got another orange or two in my bag, too, if you need.”

“Thank you.” He says again, and gets a salute from his friend, making him smile.

~~~~

He’s a nauseous, shaking mess the entire next day.

He manages a few bites of breakfast, giving up when he feels like puking and gives the rest to Legend.

When the shaking starts right before lunch is served, his heart sinks.

But he hands Wind his lunch with hopefully unnoticed shaking hands, the sailor accepting it without too much questioning.

They continue walking, after their lunch break, and he’s shaking so much he keeps stumbling.

The sun bears down on them, the day warm though there’s a nice breeze.

“Wild?” He manages, drawing unwanted attention to himself. Wars is already making his way toward him. “How long until we reach that stable?”

“If we go fast, we can make it tonight.” The champion says confidently.

“Are you alright?” Time asks, voice ever so steady.

“Just a bit lightheaded. I’m alright. We can keep going.”

Everyone just stares at him.

“Four-”

“I’m alright. I’m fine- not even dizzy. I swear. Wild said we needed to get going, let’s go.”

Though they’re concerned, the thought of a real bed and maybe a warm meal pushes them to accept his request and continue down the road.

“Do you need to eat something?” Wars asks softly, hand reaching out.

He bats it away, stomach growling as if on cue.

He feels his cheeks flush up to his ears, not meeting Wars’ eyes.

“He didn’t eat lunch.” Wind rats him out, frowning at him. He throws the sailor a scowl.

“Why not?” The captain asks immediately,

“He’s been shaking all day, too.” Hyrule points out softly.

“I’m fine. Really. Just-”

“Smithy, I need you to be honest.”

“Hungry. I’m hungry.” He sighs, fidgeting with his hands.

“Well… yeah, you skipped lunch, Four. Why’d you do that?”

“We don’t have enough to feed us all.” He mumbles, not looking at the captain. “I wanted Wind to eat.”

“And breakfast?” Legend asks with a raised eyebrow.

He doesn’t answer that one.

Wars gives him an oddly gentle look, reaching into his bag and sighing slowly. “I’m out of oranges.”

“I’m fine. Really.”

“Four, you’re really pale. You sure you’re just lightheaded?”

His feet drag, Legend gently wrapping an arm around him. “Easy, Smithy, you need to sit?”

“No- no, I’m fine-”

“I think your blood sugar is low again, buddy.” Wars says gently, taking his hand.

Feeling his pulse, he realizes.

He frowns up at the captain, pulling his hand back. “I’m fine.” He repeats for what feels like the hundredth time.

He gently pushes away from Legend, stumbling immediately, both the veteran and the captain jumping to steady him, and he sees the twin looks of concern before he hits the ground and passes out.

~~~~

“Four, time to wake up, bud.”

Pain. Throbbing behind his eyes, skull pounding.

“You need to eat something, or the medic is gonna shove a tube up your nose to feed you. That’s going to be very unpleasant, Four.”

“Speaking from personal experience, yes. Very uncomfortable.”

Even with his eyes closed, he can tell it’s bright.

Painfully bright.

“Link, kiddo, we need you to open your eyes.”

A gentle hand in his hair.

He squints in the harsh light, eyes watering immediately.

“Hey… there ya are, you scared us pretty good, kid.”

He blinks, still squinting.

Eyes finally finding the rancher, who looks worried.

“ ‘m’nota kid.” He slurs out, hearing a small laugh.

“Yeah, he’s alright.”

“We’re gonna prop you up, can you drink some water for me? Wild’s making some food, we managed to find a deer to hunt for some stew.”

He obediently sips the cool water, the light slowly turning less painful.

“Small sips.” Wars reminds him gently, taking the cup away for a moment. “Eyes on me? Good.”

The captain eyes him, looking for something that he doesn’t care enough about to find it odd. He’s hungry and he’d like the water back.

“Four. Where are we, do you know?”

He blinks, wondering if this is a trick. “Wild’s world?”

A nod. “Remember what happened?”

“I… erm. Passed out.” He does remember that. Oops.

He tries to reach for the water Wars is still denying him, though the limb feels much too heavy to lift.

“Water?” He asks weakly, getting awarded another drink.

“Four, don’t chug it, you’re gonna make yourself sick.” Wars chastises him softly, taking the water again.

He makes a protesting noise that makes him sound like a child.

“Food’s almost ready, bud, can you wait a minute?”

His eyes flick to Twi, nodding.

Which makes his headache worse, slowly rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“How you feeling, Smithy?”

“Tired.” He mumbles honestly, leaning back against Twi’s chest. “Head hurts.”

“Hungry?” Wars asks gently. “When’s the last time you’ve eaten enough food to be sufficient?”

His eyes flick away despite himself.

“I need… more food to… suffice.”

Wars frowns.

“That’s why I had snacks all the time.” He explains, still looking at his knees. “Then… I ran out. And we got low on… everything, so-”

“You haven’t had enough food to suffice you in weeks?” Wars interrupts, giving him the water back when he reaches for it. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

He sighs slowly as the group all glances up at him.

“I didn’t… want to cause problems. We’re all hungry, making sacrifices.”

Wars nods understandingly, patting his knee awkwardly. “I understand.”

“He does.” Time agrees, shooting a glance at the captain with a small smile. “And you’re a hypocrite, Captain. You’ve skipped more meals than he has.”

“That was different!” Wars defends himself. “We were feeding an army, not nine people!”

Time raises an eyebrow.

Wars looks away, ears flushing.

“Ignore him. He’s lying.” The captain mutters, and he manages a shaky laugh.

“He’s not!” Wind calls, making the group laugh.

“Here, this is ready.” Wild says gently, approaching him with a bowl of stew. The look he gives is all too understanding.

“I had to eat a lot more than your average person after I woke up. Guess it was a side effect of not eating for a hundred years.” The champion says, though, pressing a bowl into his hands.

He nods, looking down at the food. “Thanks, Champion.”

“Anytime, Smithy. Now eat- you need it, man.”

“Goddess knows that right- there’s no way you weigh any more than forty five kilograms.” Wars chimes back in with a grin.

He has to smile, rolling his eyes as he takes a bite.

~~~~

Thanks for reading! Any interaction is appreciated :)

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waytooinvested · 8 months ago

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Fic: Small Problem...

A silly little story inspired by this adorable art by @art-by-ilaa19

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

There was a low, sonorous BOOM, and before she had quite caught up with the fact that anything had gone wrong, Lena found herself sailing through the air as a blast ripped through the Tower. She braced herself for a painful impact, but by incredible good fortune the force threw her directly at the couch, where she landed with a small ‘oomph’ as the wind was knocked out of her.

She lay still for a couple of seconds, struggling to draw breath into her lungs, then fought her way free of the collapsed cushions to make sure her friends were safe and take stock of the damage.

As shocking as it was to be suddenly thrown several feet, the incident actually seemed to have been pretty minor – more a pulse of energy than an actual explosion, really, though it had apparently been enough to knock everyone off their feet.

Kelly and Alex were kneeling beside the bookcase they had hit comforting a crying Esme, though thankfully the little girl seemed to be more startled than actually hurt, having been caught and buffered from the falling books by her moms.

Nia had ended up on top of Brainy on the floor, but from the way they were now staring into each other’s eyes, Lena deduced that they were no worse for wear, and glanced away quickly before she started to feel like an intruder on the moment they were so clearly having.

J’onn was bemusedly brushing soil and flower petals out of his hair after a collision with a pot plant, but the plant had decidedly come off the worst and he seemed to be more or less fine, even with the fetching addition of a Michaelmas daisy tucked rakishly behind one ear.

And Kara was-

Not there.

Given her powers the girl of steel should have been barely ruffled by a force that hadn’t even blown out the windows, and yet one minute she had been standing by the work bench, and now she was… nowhere.

‘Kara?’ Lena stood up gingerly from her place on the couch and looked around, anxiety beginning to stir in her belly.

‘Did anyone see what happened to Kara?’

Distracted from their own minor disasters, everyone turned to look at her, then to glance around the room as if Kara might be simply hiding behind something.

‘You two were cosied up together over something before the blast hit. Didn’t you see where she went?’

Alex’s question would once have made Lena’s hackles rise, but she understood now that it was concerned, not accusatory, and she just shook her head, worry sinking its claws ever deeper with every second Kara failed to reappear.

‘Uuuuh… guys? Wherever Kara is, I think she left her clothes behind’.

Nia had finally managed to disentangle herself from Brainy, and was pointing at the heap of cloth that as yet had gone unnoticed beside the workbench.

‘Oh, that can’t be good…’

Without quite knowing how she had got there, Lena found herself kneeling over the crumpled supersuit, lifting it carefully as if Kara might somehow still be hiding inside it. The fabric was warm from her skin, and Lena had to resist to urge to bury her face in it to hide her tears. It felt like they had only just got Kara back from the phantom zone, and now she was just gone again? So suddenly, and without any warning that she had even been in danger.

‘Hello? Can anyone hear me?’

Lena froze.

The voice sounded muffled and very far away, but she had heard it. She was almost certain.

‘Kara? Is that you? Where are you?’

‘Lena? Thank Rao! I’m not sure, I’m trapped somewhere. Some kind of dungeon I think? It’s small and dark, and it smells weird. Can you get me out?’

‘Kara? It’s Alex, we’re all here. We can hear you, just, but we can’t see you. We’re going to work out where you are and get you out. Do you remember how you got there?’

They all held their breath as they listened for Kara’s next message, focusing hard to pick up the distant words.

‘I was in the Tower, then there was an explosion, and I fell. There was a sort of tunnel... I’m at the bottom of it now, but the entrance sealed up behind me’.

The others glanced at each other, all trying to puzzle out what sort of portal Kara might have gone through to end up where she had described and yet still be audible from the Tower. All but Lena, who, being closest, had picked up the direction of the voice. A sneaking suspicion was growing in her mind as she honed in on it and put the pieces together with what Kara had told them.

It couldn’t be… could it?

She rummaged through the layers of discarded supersuit until she reached the knee high boots, which had folded over on themselves without the support of Kara’s legs inside to hold them up. She picked up the left one and peered inside, down the long tunnel of red leather it created.

Nothing.

Feeling a little silly now with everyone staring at her with expressions ranging from baffled to bemused, she picked up the right, and was instantly met with a tiny yell of alarm.

‘Woah! The room’s moving!’

Ah hah.

Lena laid the boot out very carefully on its side, and help the top part open.

‘Kara? Has the tunnel open up again now?’

‘Yes! How did you know that?’

‘I just- well, you’ll see in a minute. Follow the light. But uhh… try not to be too alarmed when you get out. We’re going to fix this, okay?’

They all stared as, blinking against the comparative brightness of the room, a tiny figure emerged from the boot’s opening.

Esme let out a shriek of pure joy, tears entirely forgotten, and would have thrown herself across the room to scoop up her now doll-sized aunt had Kelly not put restraining arms around her.

‘No baby, you might hurt her by mistake. Lets stay back here a minute and let Aunt Lena do it, okay? Lots of big people around her might be a bit frightening for Aunt Kara right now’.

And the sudden loud yell had indeed seemed to startle Kara, making her flinch and dive back into the mouth of the boot. Lena lay down on her side so she could see inside, head level with the cave-like opening.

‘Hey, it’s alright Kara. You’re safe. We’re still in the tower. You seem to have… shrunk, somehow, but we’re going to figure out how to fix it, okay? I promise’.

She kept her voice quiet and coaxing, trying not to frighten Kara any further even as she struggled to wrap her own mind around what had just happened.

‘I… shrank?’

‘It does look that way. You’re inside your boot right now’.

Kara stared up at Lena, then around at the shadowy recesses of her refuge, and finally down at herself. She said something too quietly to pick up, though the tone was bordering on panicky, then she called out again, clearer now that she was no longer muffled by layers of leather.

‘Um… okay. So I have total faith that you’re gonna find a way to full-size me again, but in the mean time… does anyone have anything I can wear? I am… more naked than I realised’.

In the circumstances, Lena hadn’t quite taken in that part either until it was pointed out to her, but... yep. Kara was naked. Extremely, totally, life ruiningly naked. It was something she had fantasized about too many times to count through their years of as-yet-unacknowledged physical chemistry with each other, but if she was ever going to be lucky enough to get there for real, this was not how she had imagined it would go.

Lena averted her eyes quickly, her cheeks heating inconveniently in response, despite the fact that the situation was about as far from sexy as it could get, and Kara was at this moment only around four inches high.

‘Right, of course, I’ll find you something. Stay there a minute, okay?’

Finding miniature clothes on short notice was easier said than done, and in the end they had to settle for a kleenex, which Kara wrapped around herself toga-style, and secured with a hair elastic offered up by a still-delighted Esme. It was pink and sparkly, and had a plastic glitter butterfly ornament attached to it, but it was the best they could do at short notice.

Once she was dressed and had fully emerged from the boot, Lena held out her hand and Kara climbed gingerly up into it, hanging on grimly as she was lifted from the floor.

‘Are you okay? Are you hurt?’

‘I don’t think so. I’m just… a bit overwhelmed. I don’t think I like being tiny. Also… and this seems kind of insignificant compared to what just happened, but I’m really hungry’.

She sounded totally miserable, and Lena wished she could hug her friend, but she was afraid that wrapping a hand around her would feel more like being grabbed than hugged. She settled for laying a fingertip lightly on Kara’s shoulder in a gesture that, she hoped, would feel comforting rather than alarming.

‘We’re going to figure this out. But in the meantime, hungry is something I can help with’.

Cupping Kara in her hands so she wouldn’t fall, Lena carried her over to the table where various snacks were laid out to fuel them through what they had thought would be a typical day of work. Lena skimmed the various options quickly, before settling on the remains of an order of potstickers and placing Kara down very gently amongst them.

Kara’s squeal of delight was the loudest noise Lena had heard from her since she had been miniaturised, and she couldn’t help laughing as she watched her best friend launch herself at a dumpling that was almost as big as she was.

As she turned back to the others to begin the work of figuring out how to un-shrink Supergirl, she was pretty sure she heard a tiny cry of ‘BEST DAY EVER!’ from inside the box.

It looked like Kara might just have found some upsides to being pocket sized, after all.

#supercorp #kara danvers #supergirl #lena luthor #my fic #supergirl fanfiction #crack fic #light hearted silliness #inspired by fanart #please go and check out the artist's awesome work if you haven't aready

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arahusk · 5 months ago

Text

Husk is tired once he reaches the home’s front steps, and maybe a little grumpy. His ears were still ringing from static.

He ignores the deer antlers perched over the door, like a morbid holiday wreath. But it’s both typical and so very predictable, and after weeks of this routine, Husk is barely put off by it anymore. Its winding antlers are almost like a beacon of sorts, pulsing and calling out to him as he traverses the city’s streets to Alastor’s home.

Part of the deal is to keep his boss company. Nightcaps and the sort. Husk knows it’s risky every time but the prospect of a drink is always hard to turn down. That, and his radio back at the casino is on the fritz lately, static and noise playing over the speakers in both long and short bursts that was giving Husk a headache. Which probably meant Alastor wanted him over there right now instead of two hours later. Jackass.

But maybe, in some ways, Husk also craves for a little company. He’s not ready to admit that just yet.

“Boss, you in?” he calls out, pushing open the creaky door into darkness. He has his own key and everything, even though Alastor would usually just summon him without any warning. Maybe to see Husk get pissed off, or maybe because he was really that impatient. “Got your fucking radio message. Ever heard of using a phone?”

The house is evocative of the abandoned homes that are the staple of any low-budget horror flick—with rotting floorboards, cobwebs in every corner, and skull paraphernalia decorating every available surface. It had been a shock to Husk at first, but now it was just a little blasé for his tastes. He now expects Alastor to put up creepy decorations like hanging plastic bats or wearing a witch’s hat to liven things up.

But he only sees the same thing, with the lights completely out. There’s a fireplace from across the room, the wood dry, the flames gone.

And it’s Husk’s first hint that something is wrong.

Every instinct is telling him to run, an instinct that he usually fucking listens to. After all, it’s the only damn reason he stayed alive for so long until an unfortunate slip up made him end up here in Hell. (He does not want to think about it, so he’s going to stop that right now). His foot is already half out the doorway, his wings opened up, in case something tries to grab at him from the darkness.

Instead, he stays. Instead, he walks inside the house. A sensation, a sound, pulls at him to move forward, hidden in the shadows, even as his mind is screaming at him to leave.

But he doesn’t think it’s Alastor that’s going to pounce on him in the darkness. If he did, he might have felt less afraid—mildly. But the feeling keeps moving his feet to further inside the home, to hallways that sometimes shifted for his own boss’s shits and giggles. Husk lost count of how many times he had found himself in a long hallway with no doors to leave through, just for Alastor’s own amusement.

But the shadows that move around him, some of them with eyes, are frantic. The hallways keep rearranging themselves until he feels he has been traveling for miles. But there’s always another door, always another deer skull hanging around, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to leave again once the home brings him to where he needs to be.

He also keeps hearing that same radio signal from before—those short and long bursts, high-pitched and keening inside his head. It makes him shiver, makes him grit his teeth, but he keeps going forward, even as the sound makes him want to rip off his ears. It’s distant, but it’s growing, and he knows he’s getting closer the further he goes deeper into this house.

At one point, he finds himself on the stairs. Old, creaking stairs that were covered in mildew, where a few steps in-between were entirely missing. He walks up them with no question, his wings fanning out to hover any missing places for his feet. The stairs seem to lead in a spiral, and then the wood slowly, almost subtly, begins to turn to metal grates. Instead of mold, there is now rust, much of it covering the railing Husk occasionally uses. It makes his claws screech against it, whenever he lets his hand place itself on it.

The radio tower is supposed to be on the other side of Pentagram City. But Alastor’s home was always a place to rend apart reality to suit where he wanted to be, whether that’s a murky swamp or a glaring red tower where the frequency is always at an awful signal—and it was that awful signal bringing him up, always playing that same deformed patterns, over and over again.

But then, Husk finds himself at the top, and the red decor that makes up this place is almost all gone. It’s just dark, and it’s cold, and there is Alastor—

—and he’s kneeling on the floor in the middle of the room before a woman that Husk knows, because everyone knows who she is.

There are nights when Husk tries to sleep, and makes sure his damn radio is off. But he still hears singing, floating on the air, and he can’t help but admit that the voice makes him feel some sort of hope that he should have stamped out years and years ago.

She’s so tall, regal and timeless, with sleek and black horns curving from her head to tangle along her golden hair. In her hands is a chain made of a light that there is no name for. She looks over at Husk, who has just appeared from the dark like nothing, first with a curious lift of an eyebrow—and then finally a light laugh. The melodic sound of it makes his heart race, fends off exhaustion from his limbs.

But then he sees Alastor again who is on his knees, whose head is bowed, and over his neck is a manacle that is so tight—and then the chain pulls upward.

And the movement makes Alastor lift his head and there is a flash of something that’s terrified and broken, and any music that lives in Husk’s head is suddenly gone in a flash.

He makes the mistake of talking.

“What’s…going on here?” His voice doesn’t even sound like his own. The tone is tight, stripped of everything. It’s as if some part of him knows that if he breathes wrong, it’s over.

“Oh, look, Alastor. Your friend is here.” The woman finally speaks, her eyes flicking over the chained Radio Demon. His head is still turned away, and only Husk notices then that his once neat red hair is frazzled, unkempt.

At her tone, Alastor starts visibly shaking. His ears lay flat against his head, and Husk can even hear him breathe faster. “No.”

“You don’t believe me? But you must have heard him.” The woman smiles, something that Husk can still see, even in the dark. “It seems he’s finally caught us.”

Husk isn’t sure he wants to understand what she fucking means by that.

She bends down from her great height so she can place her hand over Alastor’s head—so grand that it looks as if she could crush the demon’s head with just her palm. Her fingers tap along Alastor’s cheeks, a thumb playing with his hair. “You should greet him. It’s only polite.”

And in Alastor’s voice, he hears something akin to terror. Panic. Shame. The radio filter is off completely, leaving no room for error to what Alastor feels, to what he’s experiencing.

“Wait, wait, no—”

“Now, come on.” A hand that grips the back of Alastor’s hair, and a pull of the chain that yanks him upward, enough to lift him just slightly off his knees. “Say hello.”

“Wait, stop it, I don’t-!”

And then Alastor turns.

Husk sees a face that is finally bare of every glimmer, of every facade, of every blistering smile. Alastor stares back at him, under the pressure of both the hand and chain. In his eyes, steeped in red that is now so dark, there is an awful and silent cry.

But in that silence, Husk hears something. It’s coming from deep within Alastor’s chest, the radio waves that had been missing from his vocal chords. But Husk hears it, those same long and short bursts of awful sound, all as Alastor keeps looking at him with widened eyes. Calling him.

Husk then realizes what he had been hearing over the radio back home: a corrupted form of an S.O.S signal.

Inspired by this art.

Full fic on AO3.

#hazbin hotel #husk #alastor #lilith morningstar #radiohusk #radioqueen #my fics #fanfiction #I am on board the 'evil Lilith' train even though it's probably not true #this was just fun to write out #me hastily adding in an ao3 link as i see people reblog this HOLD UP CHECK THE FULL STORY THANK U

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