#cyber dreads

[bloodvampyr]

(x)

[cybergirl2006]

Source

[null-entity]

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[scripture-digital]

Finding inspiration in the end times <3

[mama-qwerty]

Returning the Favor

Super self-indulgent snippet, written specifically because I was feeling bad and needed a pick-me-up.

Dread comforting Callie. 'Nuff said.

~~~~~

Dread scrounged through the cabinets in the Sanctuary’s kitchen. He was the only Knuckles here for the moment—a rare occurrence—and he aimed to take advantage of the solitude.

Any leftover cookies were going back to No Place with him.

“All treats are meant to stay in the Sanctuary for the enjoyment of all Knuckleses,” Cyber called, as though he had read Dread’s mind. The blasted ghost always seemed to want to spout off rules and spoil his fun.

(Yes, Dread knew the others referred to Cyber as a ‘holler-gram’, but that really seemed like a silly word for what the echidna obviously was. Cyber was see-through, appeared and disappeared at will, and couldn’t interact with the physical objects of the Sanctuary. Only one kind of creature exhibited all those traits, and Dread was no fool. Cyber was a ghost. A sentient one, sure, but a ghost nonetheless.)

“At th’ moment, Cyber lad,” Dread said, digging through the last cabinet, “I happen t’ be th’ only Knuckles here. Well, the only real Knuckles here. No offense, lad. So any sweet treats be rightfully mine. Finders keepers an’ all that.”

The pirate uttered a triumphant laugh as he discovered a container filled with chocolate chunk cookies, and pulled the lid off to shove one into his mouth. He turned to give Cyber a crumb-covered smirk, and the transparent echidna produced a very convincing scowl. Dread had Cyber on a technicality, and although it seemed to annoy the ghost, he didn’t say anything.

The two stared each other down for a moment, before Cyber blinked, his eyes glowing green.

“Miss Callie, incoming,” he announced, just as a portal opened.

Dread nearly choked. He wasn’t scared of anyone or anything, but if the lass caught him scarfing down the rest of the cookies like this, she’d give him one of those looks. The one that was part disappointment, part annoyance, part irritation, and part disapproval. And he’d rather face down a dozen krakens than endure that look cast in his direction just once.

Callie came through her portal, moving at a fast walk.

“Lass!” he called out, hurriedly swallowing the cookie mush in his mouth. He slammed the lid back on the container and shoved it into the cabinet before turning around to throw her his best charming smile. “I were jus’ gettin’ meself a snack, an’ . . . lass?”

She didn’t stop. Didn’t even seem to notice him. Instead she made a beeline for the quiet room, pulling the tie from the bottom of her braid as she went. She dropped it, right before running her fingers through her hair, separating the plaits and giving it a sharp tug as she uttered a low grunt.

Then she was in the quiet room, closing the door behind her.

Dread’s brow furrowed. He’d never seen her like that.

Hopping down from his stool, the pirate walked over to where the lass’ hair tie lay. He picked it up, giving it a look before turning his attention back to the door of the quiet room.

“Miss Callie occasionally requires the peace the Sanctuary offers,” Cyber said, his voice softer. “She requested I keep her informed on the occupancy here, so she may come when it’s empty.”

Dread turned his attention back to him. “She’s done this b’fore?”

The holler-gram nodded. “Twice. She goes into the quiet room, and although I don’t directly monitor in there, sound carries, especially when it’s quiet out here.”

“What kind o’ sounds?”

Cyber hesitated. “I feel it would be an invasion of her privacy if I repeated anything more. I should not have told you what I have.”

“Well ye did an’ now I wanna know th’ rest,” Dread said, moving a step closer to the transparent echidna. “What sounds, ye blasted ghost?”

“Hologram. I am the avatar for the Master Emerald—”

“I don’t give a flyin’ fig if ye’re a holler-gram, avertar, ‘r jus’ a persnickety figment of me imagination.” A snarl curled Dread’s lip as his patience quickly ran out. “Tell me what sounds ye heard. Now.”

Silence settled over the two, and Cyber pulled his lips tight. “Sorrow.”

Dread’s face fell. “She . . . ye mean, she were cryin’?”

A short nod. “Sometimes. Sometimes it’s more of a frustrated scream. Emotions are tricky for me to decipher, I can only extrapolate from the data I’ve collected from the rest of you. And I have never observed Miss Callie in situations which conjure these types of reactions.”

The pirate turned back to look toward the quiet room’s door. He didn’t hear anything at the moment, just an ominous silence, one that rang in his ears as he stared.

Sorrow? What would cause the lass such a deep feeling of sorrow that she would (regularly) need to come to the Sanctuary to let loose those emotions? He could understand her wanting to do so when the place was empty—she was one of the group ‘moms’ and thus felt the need to be in charge, to have control of herself at all times. To be the voice of reason (even if she sometimes was as bad as the rest of them when it came to pranks and snarking at each other) and keep a level head when others were letting their own anger or sadness get the better of them.

She was the rock that many of the Knuckleses—him included—relied on to keep them sane and grounded. She was the one they leaned on when their feelings were too big, their thoughts too heavy.

But now that he thought about it, who was her rock? Who helped her when she was sad or angry or otherwise feeling like she was getting lost in her own head? When she felt like a great weight had settled on her shoulders, and it was slowly crushing her, little by little?

Maddie had her husband. Dread had met him once or twice, he seemed a decent enough bloke, for the most part. Kinda straight-laced. A bit boring. But devoted to his family. Supportive. That kinda thing.

But Callie didn’t have a mate. She was alone, raising her two boys (and dealing with a multitude of Knuckleses) by herself. There was someone—Wayne? Wyatt? Dread had met him once or twice, too. Reminded him a bit of Gnarly, to be honest. And the man seemed to have a bit of a soft spot for Callie, but the lass never mentioned anyone in terms of a romantic-type of interest. It was just her. All alone.

Who did Callie have to lean on?

Dread tossed the hair tie in the air, catching it in a fist as he turned and headed back toward the kitchen area. He tucked the tie into his pocket as he dug in a drawer, pulling out a well-worn brush. It was one she used to help calm and soothe many a Knux—yes, him included—and he picked out what quills and fur was stuck in the bristles as he headed toward the quiet room door.

His fist hovered for a moment. Should he knock? What if she refused to let him in? Would he simply go in anyway, thereby showing her that he didn’t respect her wishes?

Then again, how many times did she sit with an upset Knuckles, even when they thought they wanted to be alone? Wasn’t this the same situation?

But maybe that was different. She had come to the Sanctuary specifically when (she thought) there were no others around. Didn’t that mean she truly wanted to be alone?

A little frustrated huff left his lips. All this thinking and over thinking wasn’t productive. Dread was better when he listened to his gut and just acted, and didn’t waste a lot of time wondering and worrying if that was the right thing to do.

So he went with his gut.

Dread dropped his hand, resting it on the door handle and giving it a gentle push. He poked his head into the room, catching sight of a blanket covered lump on the couch, and a pair of glasses sitting on the table to the left. “Lass?”

The lump shifted, as though the person beneath curled tighter. “Go away.”

Instead, Dread moved into the room, closing the door quietly behind him. “C’mon, lass. I be a captain. Ye can’t give me orders.”

A sigh, shaky and wet. “Just go away. Please.”

Dread flinched. He’d never heard Callie sound so . . . weak. So defeated. So utterly broken.

He moved closer, holding the brush tightly in one hand. Suddenly this didn’t seem to be the best idea. But, good idea or not, Dread was committed. “Thought ye may need a brushin’. T’ help soothe whatever’s gotcha all . . .” He gestured toward her, even if she couldn’t see it. “Like this.”

She didn’t respond. The blanket pulled tighter, and she scooted toward the back of the couch. Dread had an idea she was lying on her side, facing the back, and simply wanted to wedge herself in as tight as she could to feel safe.

“C’mon, lass,” he said again, moving closer. “Talk t’ me.”

Another sigh, but this one harsher. “I came here because I didn’t want to talk to anyone, Dread. Leave me alone.”

Dread cocked an eyebrow. Anger. Okay. He could deal with that.

“Oh, that’s quite th’ double standard ye got there,” he said, moving to the couch and hopping onto it, by where he assumed her feet were. “How many times did ye make me talk when I said I didn’t want to? Jus’ plopped yerself right down an’ did that thing where ye prodded an’ questioned an’ dragged me thoughts outta me head anyway.”

A little growl answered him, and she flipped the blanket off enough so she could sit up and shoot him a glare. Her hair was a mess—a tangled mop of red—and she wiped at the tears on her cheeks.

“If this is how you felt when I did that then I’m sorry to have bothered you!” she hissed, right before her foot shot out and kicked him off the couch. “Get lost, echidna. Let me wallow in my patheticness in peace.” Then she rolled back over, pulling the blanket back over her head.

Dread hit the floor with a startled cry. Okay, that had been unexpected. He’d seen her angry before—her temper flared on occasion, and they’d had a few screaming matches—but he’d never seen her like this.

“Okay,” he said, pushing himself back to his feet. “We’re doin’ it like this, are we?”

Without giving her a chance to respond, Dread dropped the brush and took two handfuls of the blanket. With one quick motion he gave a pull, yanking it free and bringing her with it. She rolled, landing on the floor with a smack.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she spat, moving to sit with her back against the front of the couch. Dread uttered a sharp laugh.

“Me? What th’ hell be wrong with ye?” He moved to stand before her, hands on hips and an angry glare in his eye. “The lass I know wouldn’t wallow in self-pity. She doesn’t mope ‘neath a blanket. She faces trouble head on an’ back straight. What happened t’ her?”

Callie heaved a sigh, pulling her legs in to hug and resting her forehead on her knees. “Maybe she’s tired of being the one everyone runs to. Maybe she’s sick of being in charge. Maybe the rock everyone else relies on just needs some time to break once in a while.”

The anger drained from Dread at her words, at the soft, tired tone she spoke in. His thoughts from before came back to him. Who did Callie have to lean on?

It would seem the answer is no one.

Dread sighed.

That just wouldn’t do.

“C’mere.” Dread picked up the brush, moving to climb onto the couch behind her. “Let ol’ Dread take care o’ that rats nest ye call hair, aye?”

She didn’t respond for a long moment, instead keeping her head resting on her knees. Dread sat behind her, giving her the time she needed. His anger had drawn hers out, breaking through the initial wall of self-pity she’d put up earlier. Now he would wait, and let her reach out when she was comfortable.

A little smile curled his lips at that. Oh how the tables had turned.

After a moment, Callie let out a long sigh, lifting her head and brushing her long, tangled hair behind her, where he could reach it. He didn’t speak, opting to simply begin gently dragging the brush through her mane, moving slowly so as not to tug.

When the brush refused to move through some of the more difficult areas, Dread paused to pull off his gloves. His claws worked better through the tougher knots, and he used them to pick apart the worst offenders. He occasionally reached higher to gently scrape her scalp, making her shiver slightly from the sensation.

“Talk t’ me.” His voice was soft, his hands never stopped moving. “C’mon, lass. Get it off yer chest.”

She let out another sigh, lowering her head slightly, her fingers fiddling with the hem of the blanket. When she spoke, her voice was soft and quiet, like a child who was telling their deepest secret, their most hidden fear.

“It’s just hard sometimes.”

“What is?”

“Everything. Being the one responsible for making money, and paying bills, and taking care of the boys and the house and you guys and keeping the library running and dealing with the hundred little things that come up every day . . .” She pushed out another sigh, this one sounding more tired. “It’s like a bucket filling up, and every now and then, I just need to . . . empty it, I guess.”

“An’ ye have no one t’ lean on when it gets t’ be too much for ye.”

She didn’t respond, but she didn’t need to. He knew it was true, just as much as she did. Saying it out loud would make it even more true, and she was enough like him that she didn’t want to do that.

“I come here because time moves differently,” she said, her voice still soft. “It’s essentially like hitting the pause button on my regular life. I come, get my little breakdown out of the way, and then go back to do it all over again.”

“That ain’t no way t’ live, lass.” He shook his head, working the last knot from her hair. “Ye deserve better ‘n that.”

She pulled her shoulders up in a shrug. “It is what it is.”

“Don’t make it right.”

“It’s the hand I was dealt. You know better than anyone that life isn’t always easy, or fair.”

He supposed that was true. His own childhood was evidence enough that bad things happened to innocent people—children, even—and you had to learn to deal with it before it killed you.

Still, what she was dealing with wasn’t exactly the same. She wasn’t fighting to survive—not in a literal sense, anyway—but she was breaking under all the weight she carried. And she carried it all herself, because she had no one to share the burden with.

But it didn’t have to be that way.

“Ye c’n always reach out, ye know,” he said, turning back to the brush once all the knots were worked through. He dragged it down her hair, his hand running behind to smooth any stray strands. “Don’t have t’ face everything all on yer lonesome.”

“Everyone else has their own problems,” she said, and to Dread it sounded like an automatic response. Something she convinced herself of long ago. “They don’t need to deal with mine, too.”

“Aye, an’ ye have yer own problems,” he said, smoothing the final part of her hair. “Don’t need t’ deal with everyone else’s, too.” He paused, a little smirk curling his lip as he leaned to the side to look at her. “But ye do.”

She cast him a side eye, a little blush rising to her cheeks. The smirk on Dread’s face widened until it was a smile. Looking like this—the blush, her hair down, and no glasses—made her look so different than he’d ever seen her. More vulnerable. Less like a headstrong lass who could take on the world, and more like one who needed protection from it. Even if just for a little while.

“That’s different.”

“No it ain’t.”

“Yes it is.”

“Why?”

She gave a little shrug, turning her face away. “It just is.”

The smile faded from Dread’s lips when she turned away, and a little furrow appeared in his brow. Did she honestly not see that letting others help her was no different than her helping them? She wasn’t that stubborn was she?

He gave a little eye roll. Of course she was that stubborn. That’s why they got along so well.

The smile returned as he gave his head a little shake. He planted his hand flat on the top of her head, turning her back to face him.

“Ye wanna know what I think?” he asked, casting a cocked eyebrow. “I think ye convinced yerself askin’ f’r help be a sign o’ weakness. An’ if’n there be one thing the mighty Callie MacPherson hates, it be t’ show herself as weak. She likes t’ be strong. Likes t’ show care t’ others, but be so damn bad ‘bout acceptin’ it f’r herself. Lookit her now, gone all blushin’ an’ turnin’ away at the barest amount o’ care. Even from a nasty, smelly ol’ pirate such as meself.”

She stared at him, her blue-green eyes locked with his violet. He smiled wider, a chuckle rumbling through his chest.

“An’ now she be speechless,” he snickered, releasing her head and moving his hand down to caress her cheek with his knuckles, and tuck her hair behind her ear. “No doubt thinkin’ what a strikin’ specimen of a man be sittin’ b’side her. A man the likes o’ which she ain’t never seen b’fore. A pow’rful man, a fine fig’re of a man, one who makes her feel things she never—“

Callie snorted out a laugh, reaching forward to shove his face away. Dread responded with a laugh of his own, leaning back to rest against the back of the couch.

“You little dork,” she said, scooting herself around to lean her side against the couch. “Ruining my perfectly good pity party.”

Dread chuckled again, leaning forward to rest his weight on one arm. The color was still in her cheeks, but the heavy air around her had dissipated. Even without her glasses and her hair out of that signature braid, she looked more like the lass he knew.

“Turnabout be fair play, me lovely lass,” he said, dropping a wink. “There be plenty o’ times ye spoiled me rotten mood. All with yer kind heart an’ clever words.”

She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Since when has the legendary Captain Dread ever cared about playing fair?”

He gave her a little smirk. “The legendary Captain Dread c’n play fair, so long as the legendary Captain Dread still gets the result he wants in the end.” The smirk melted into a more sincere smile. “An’ in this case, seein’ ye smile be worth every second of it.”

Her cheeks burned hotter at that, and he gave another chuckle. Despite outward appearances, Dread was actually one of the more engaging of the Knuckleses, and knew his way around a compliment. Yes, violence was a quick way to get what he wanted, but sometimes charming someone was more discreet, easier, and more fun.

But that didn’t mean that he wasn’t sincere in what he said now. While he hadn’t been serious in his flirting, he always enjoyed making her smile.

“My, my,” she said, giving him a little smirk back. “Dread actually has a heart. And cares about others. Wait ‘til the rest of the Sanctuary hears this.”

“Lies. I’ll deny everythin’. No one will ever believe ye. Think ye’re off yer rocker. The lass has lost it! Oh, ‘twere a shame, aye, it were. Bet Cyber may want t’ run tests on ye. Examine yer brain ‘r somethin’.”

She snickered. “Oh, good point. Guess I oughta keep this little chat to myself, lest I ruin your reputation, and my street cred for being, you know, sane.”

They shared a laugh, allowing the serious nature of the situation fade. This was something Dread really enjoyed. They poked at each other, tossed barbs and insults and snark like it was their job, but in the end their bond was different than either had with any other Knuckles. More sibling-esque.

He’d never admit it, but she was the only person whose opinion of him mattered.

A comfortable silence settled over them, and she rested her elbow on the couch, perching her head in her hand. She sighed, looking back to him with a little smile.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice soft. “For not going away.”

Dread matched her smile, giving his head a little shake. “Never. Ye be stuck with me. So quit bein’ so damn stubborn an’ jus’ ask f’r help when ye need it, aye?” He leaned forward, bringing their foreheads together. “Ye lean on me when ye need. I be strong enough f’r the both of us. Ye jus’ call, an’ I’ll come runnin’. Ye have me word on that.”

It was an odd thing to hear come out of his own mouth. For so long he’d been only interested in his own wants, his own needs and desires. Even after the Prism Shard incident, he felt disconnected from the rest of the crew. It had taken a while to overcome those feelings of greed and selfishness. Of possessive obsession.

But now, he was different. Part of something bigger. His crew, the Sanctuary, the other, well, hims . . . they all helped him understand who he was. It felt good to finally receive kindness and love and support.

And it felt even better to offer it.

“Thank you, you smelly little pirate,” she said, a smile in her voice. “Even though I wanna feed you your hat some days, I still love ya.”

“Aye, ye be a right pain in my backside most days,” he said, and she snickered. “But ye’ve wormed yer way int’ me heart.”

They sat with their foreheads touching for another moment, before pulling back. Callie gave him a little look, that smirk back on her face.

“How ‘bout we go and finish off the rest of those cookies? ‘Cause I know that’s what you were doing earlier.”

Dread gave a dramatic gasp. “Lass! Ye offend me.”

“I doubt it.”

He tried to keep his offended expression, but her gaze made him break character. He snickered, nodding.

“Aye, ye got me. They be so good, I couldn’t resist ‘em.” He cast her a sly look. “There be plenty t’ share.”

She gave him an identical look back. “Assuming I don’t beat you there and get ‘em first.”

They stared each other down for a moment, before Callie grabbed her glasses and made a break for the kitchen. Dread laughed as he sprinted after her.

In the end, Dread’s original desire to snatch away all the cookies for himself was replaced with the urge to share them with a friend as they sat and talked. They agreed to regular check-ins, under the guise of a free meal for the pirate, and that unspoken promise to be there for each other strengthened.

As they argued their right to the last cookie, Dread couldn’t help but marvel at how his life had turned around. Treasure was no longer the only thing on his mind. Right now, he couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be, than right here.

[ner0scum]

tf is wrong with my twitter fyp why's it showing me verified checkmarks spitting out their political beliefs i'm here to look at cool ass art elon

[antirepurp]

i hadn't aligned one set of UVs correctly and that fixed the mirroring. ngl i Am a little tempted to adjust this further to make it a bit more prominent but hey yippee for me cracking open this bitch of a model finally!!

[timmydraker]

Tim begins to distance himself from his family after Damian becomes Robin.

It was obvious in the way he ran off to rescue Bruce, but that was more of a physical thing at the end of the day. He was desperate and had lost any kind of safety net and support he had after Dick threatened Arkham and how badly he hurt Alfred with his instance that Bruce was alive.

Either way he was going to get Bruce back, if not because he felt like he was an aimless, nothing human being without Batman then there was that he wanted to be believed.

Then Dick handed over Robin to Damian who at that point genuinely despised Tim, though there was also a level of jealously in the young Wayne’s mind at the intelligence and analytical Tim.

It was then that Tim decided he would bring Bruce back and then do his own thing, outside of Robin and outside of Batman.

He clearly had done his job hadn’t he? Sure Bruce was dead, but Dick was acting as Batman and that Batman had a Robin, so his reasoning for being Robin was extinguished.

Tim brings Bruce back and the older man praises and thanks him for several days and then, like everything else, the attention moves away. It goes to him connecting with Damian on a vigilante level and catching up on the last several months of him being ‘dead’. It goes to Jason who, now that he’s lost his foster father has decided that maybe he could try a little harder after all.

It goes to everyone and anyone other than Tim and this time? That’s actually the plan.

Tim isn’t as good of a hacker as Barbara, but she’s basically a god at it so compared to others he might as well be master level, just not against her. This he uses to shift around peoples schedules so Alfred has no choice but to let him go to school on his own (Tim may have also invented an early morning ‘club’ that was totally legit and not at all a fabrication). He makes it so when Dick is over or Jason takes the rare opportunity to visit he had to work at WE or DI, something important he can’t neglect.

He never has to walk Ace or Titus because he’s busy with his team mates.

Team mates who think he’s busy helping out Batman.

Tim still does work as a hero, but it’s entirely through his businesses after a while. A few times he has no choice but to go out in a boring black suit with a full face mask and hoodie. It’s got nothing on it, no symbols or gadgets. Nothing to connect him to anyone.

He starts with the homeless, dishing out vaccines like candy without even doing a campaign to showcase it.

Then he changes Bruce’s rather naive approach to orphanages and makes it so every single child who is put through is given a small amount of funding. He makes it so kids have more chance to stay with siblings, makes sure everyone who even so much as enters the ground of a orphanage have a real background check and sure the adoption rate drops, but so does the missing kids and DV cases.

Tim steals over fifty million from people like Luther and Penguin and all kinds of corrupt rich assholes for the majority of the funding and not even a cent of it is traced back to Wayne or Drake businesses. Whiles he’s digging into Lex be manages to get enough evidence to put a sizeable dent in his reputation, even if Lex manages to smooch a fair bit of it back.

He’s manages to take out a large sized trafficking ring and helps get the victims into a real recovery home that he hand picks out security for.

Later, as in a few days afterward, he discovers a dog meat farm and everyone medical veterinary student suddenly finds themself free of student loans and debt and with multiple work opportunities available and volunteer work being down right pleased for.

Tim knows he’s being noticed but given that he basically lives in his office in the heart of the city, he isn’t there to hear his old teammates and ‘family’ talk about the mysterious Dread.

Dread who was named that after a report came out about a theory of an unknown hacker or ‘cyber vigilante’ who was stealing money and information from rich folk and giving it to the poor, giving all of the 1% dread that he would hit them next.

The exact quote was ‘Those with money deeper than their pockets dread the hackers next moves. And they should feel that dread as a warning for this Robin Hood like legend seems to be getting braver.’

Dick was sure the hacker would have been called Robin if he hadn’t chosen that name already, to which Barbara responded with grumbles and growl because she couldn’t find anything other than holes and traps left by the hacker. It was like they knew her every move before she even made it!

Tim, obvious to his growing reputation until it fully took off, hadn’t even considered that his actions would be framed a threat by Batman. He would say it was because he didn’t think Bruce would ever really target him like that, but in actuality it’s because he knew Bruce was one of the few good rich folk. Surely he would be on the side of a secret vigilante hacker trying to use horrible people to do good? He embraced Dread quickly and was happy he make the rich squirm and brought a sense of hope to people, it was just like Robin but instead of them being safe and given light they were given a peace of mind in a mix of revenge and justice.

What Tim doesn’t know is that Bruce is still too far into his whole image of black and white, good and evil, that he tends to forget there’s grey areas.

At least Jason is on the side of Dread, even if he still thinks the myth of a story is just that, a myth.

It’s when Tim blows up a bank when everyone has gone home for the night just so people will find the underground money ring that and he visits the manner to get a few things that he hears them talking about it.

By that point it’s been around two years since he dropped Robin and as usual Dick always greets him with a look of a desperate puppy, “Tim! Hi, you’re here. I haven’t seen you in months, how have you been?”

Tim smiles at Dick even if he hasn’t gotten over his anger at his oldest brother and moves to sit at the breakfast table with everyone (Alfred, Bruce, Jason and Damian).

“Good. Busy, we’ve had a lot of donations lately.”

Jason snorts, “No shit. Isn’t Wayne Enterprise one of the few ones not hit by Dread?”

Bruce grumbles and shakes his head, “I wouldn’t say that. They’ve managed to get into our system and completely changed the Jason Project.”

Jason grins and laughs happily, “you mean improved! Crime Ally is doing great now. Not the best, but still a fuck of a lot better.”

Smiling at the man who once beat him to an inch of his life, Tim takes a sip of his tea and casually says, “You’re welcome.”

The whole table goes quiet as Tim continues to casually sip his tea.

The silence carries for a total minute before Bruce puts down his cup and leans forward with a slight growl in his voice, “Explain.”

“Explain what?”

Bruce stands over his son even from halfway down the table and very obviously tries to calm himself with a deep breath, “What do you mean ‘you’re welcome’?”

Tim makes an ‘oh’ expression before cocking his head to the side in confusion, “I was the one who fixed the Jason Project? Wait, did you guys not realise I’m Dread?”

Damian shouts out a ‘what?!’ That makes Titus jump and Tim laughs under his breath, “What did you think I was doing?”

“Running the business! Not stealing from people and black mailing politicians!”

It’s Tim’s turn to growl now and he stands up himself with a glare at Bruce that is as close as any of them have gotten to the famed Bat-Glare, “Are you fucking kidding me? Like are you a Tully kidding me with that horse shit?”

Bruce looks stunned and Alfred doesn’t even tell him not to swear.

Tim slams his chair into the table.

“What the fuck else would I be doing, Bruce? I’m not Robin, that was taken from me, so what else was I gonna do? I finished my job, not only keeping you from killing anyone but bringing you back, so I had do pick something else. I’m not stealing from the rich, I’m stealing from selfish cunts who ruin peoples lives for no reason and giving it to people like Jason. So, don’t you fucking yell at me and don’t try to make me feel bad for this, not when I’ve done more in two years than you ever have and- don’t you fucking speak Dick, not when you were the one who took my place here away from me! Now, I have a trafficking ring I need to expose so good. Fucking. Day.”

Jason is the only one who follows him.

[mafiadad5]

cyber sex || Lee haechan

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ now playing- cyber sex: doja cat

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ Audioguy!haechan x fem!reader

ִ࣪𖤐.ᐟ Genre/ warnings: smut, college au, 18+ mdni!, needy sub haechan/ soft dom reader, cyber sex, unprotected sex, praising, auralism, creampie ig?, oral (fem receiving), marking (if you squint), begging. Kinda nerdy looking haechan… Lmk if I miss anything.

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ Wc- 8.2k

authors note- omg… lmk what you think guys. Part 2 maybe I have some ideas…👀. No proof read cus lol. I hope you enjoy! <3

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One day your friend joked to you and told you about these corny little audio guys that were on sound cloud. You were captivated to say the least, and curiosity filled your brain so that night you found yourself on sound cloud searching. Most of them were very laughable like your friend suggested, but then you came across this one profile. 

"hcillusion119." You muttered out loud, biting your lip in curiosity as you clicked on the profile. 

The first thing you noticed was instead of one of those anime boy banner things, it was just black with his username splat in the center. Ok, so far so good. The next thing that you noticed was how the profile description were just the words: "just listen, you won't regret ;)" 

You giggled to yourself from how full of himself this guy was, so you decided to listen to an audio, expecting to laugh just like the other times, but this one was different. His voice wasn't what you had expected, it was whiny, but not in a high-pitched, irritating way. There was something desperate in the way he guided the listener through every step, an intensity that hooked you in. You had to admit, this was nothing like what you heard previously.

After the first audio you thought you would be done with it, but it kept creeping on your mind, causing you to go back to the one you were most familiar with, but after a while you started exploring his other audios and soon found yourself subscribed. No one knew you were into this, and you were too embarrassed to even play his audios if anyone was in the same proximity as you, this was your little secret— he was your little secret.

"Hey guys. We're gonna be doing something a bit different today, so just sit back and listen to me, okay?"

You sat there quietly, your body relaxing as his smooth voice seeped into your ears. It felt like he was speaking directly to you, and you couldn't help but nod along as if he could see you.

"I just want to start off by saying that we've reached 20k followers up here. I'm very grateful for all of you guys and I'll make sure to put out great content. That being said, to show my gratitude I will be hosting a little giveaway, or I guess it's like that. I want to pick one of you to have a private call with me on insta. Crazy huh? Only the best for you guys. To enter, all you have to do is comment on this post what you like about my content...and please, don't be weird... joking haha. The winner will get a private message tomorrow at 8pm. Good luck."

An embarrassing smile painted your smile as you typed out your comment on the post. You knew you probably weren't gonna win, and honestly you weren't even sure you could handle it if you did win, but something in you burned at the thought of what could happen—what it would be like to hear his voice in real time, just for you.

It was impossible to focus on anything else the next day, you even made an anonymous insta account just incase you won. The time went agonizingly slow, you honestly thought you couldn't wait any longer, but finally it was time. 

You sat on your bed after a long day of class and work, checking your notification center obsessively, heart racing with both hope and dread.

8:05 came, then 8:10, and still nothing. By 8:15 you were ready to give up, the little spark of  hope you had starting to flicker out. Just as you were about to close the app, your phone buzzed, a bright orange message appearing at the top of your screen.

hcillusion119- hey, sorry for the late text, I'll make it up to you when we call, but I want to let you know that you won.

Your eyes widened as you stared at the notification, your heart leaping into your throat. No way. It had to be too good to be true. You fumbled with your phone, nearly dropping it as you jumped up in shock. After pacing around your room for a solid five minutes, trying to wrap your mind around it, you finally opened the message.

unknown825: omg tysm TT

hcillusion119: no, thank you :) 

hcillusion119: will you plz choose a date and time?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you considered your options, a thousand scenarios racing through your mind. You could cancel, let someone else, someone braver, take the opportunity. Instead, you found yourself typing.

unknown825: umm, well are you available tonight at 10?

There. You've done it, now there was no turning back.

hcillusion119: yea im available tonight. you're not very patient are you lol? what's your insta so I can call?

unknown825: I just like to get things done. my insta's the same as my user on here.

hcillusion119: ok, did you get my dm?

unknown825: yes, I'll talk to you then.

You barely registered your response before throwing your phone onto the bed, adrenaline rushing through your veins. Your heart was pounding so hard you could hear it. This was real. It was actually happening. You had less than two hours before the call, and the weight of it started to settle on you. What if you said something dumb? What if your voice shook? What if you just... froze?

The minutes went by slowly, agonizingly. You checked the time over and over, becoming more and more nervous with each glance.

9:45... almost time. You laid down in bed, trying to calm your racing thoughts, your phone clutched tightly in your hand. 

9:59.

You took a deep breath, staring at the screen as you scrolled through Instagram, pretending to distract yourself, but your heart was in your throat.Any moment now, your phone would light up, and you'd hear his voice—this time just for you.

Incoming call from hcillusion119

You took a deep breath, letting it ring for a moment before picking up, the silence so intense you could almost hear a pin drop.

Then his voice broke through.

"Hey."

A chill ran down your spine, sharper than you'd expected. Hearing his voice in your ears felt different this time—more personal, more intimate.

"Hi."

Your voice came out low, almost shy. You sat the phone on your stomach, unsure of what to do with your hands. The awkward smile on your face wasn't helping you feel any less flustered.

"How are you doing today?" he asked, his tone casual but warm.

"I'm good, exhausted. What about you?"

"I'm good too," he replied. "tired as well."

"Why are you tired?" You responded. 

"Well, I just moved... like yesterday, so."

"Oh, cool. Where did you move to?"

"I can't tell you that." he said with a teasing edge to his voice.

"Oh, right... I guess I understand."

The conversation wasn't flowing like you'd imagined. It was awkward. You questioned why you were so nervous in the first place. 

"What's your name?" His voice dropped lower and softer, catching you off guard.

"I can't tell you." you mimicked, trying to match his playful tone.

"Ahh, I see what you're doing. Well unknown825, why are you so tired?"

"I had school and work, so I'm pretty worn down."

"School?" He sounded curious, his tone lighter.

"Yeah, I'm in college. You're not like... an old man right?"

He laughed, the sound soft and genuine.

"No, I'm in college too."

"Oh cool."

Silence fell between you again, the awkward kind that made your heart race for no reason. You didn't want to keep bombarding him with boring questions, but you also didn't want the conversation to just end. Still, you felt that sinking feeling that maybe you should've canceled after all.

"So, what's your favorite audio?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"Stress Relief."

"Ah, who would've thought?" He chuckled, his voice dropping an octave. "So you like to be talked through it, huh?"

You hummed in response, turning onto your stomach as you clutched the phone. 

"Do you like being talked through it?" You asked, your tone slightly teasing.

The line went quiet, and for a second, you wondered if you pushed too far, but then you heard him lick his lips, a small noise you wouldn't have caught if you hadn't been listening so intently. 

"Yeah, I do." he admitted, voice deeper now. "Can't help it when I hear a pretty voice like yours."

Your cheeks flushed as a smile crept across your face. "So what are you saying? You want me to talk you through it?"

"I never said that." he interrupted quickly. "Besides, you wouldn't be able to handle it, Miss Stress Relief."

He laughed softly.

"No, you're the one who wouldn't be able to handle it." You shot back, your voice in a mocking tone.

"Are you trying to challenge me?" His tone shifted, there was an edge to it now.

You hummed again, licking your lips before replying. "I never said that,"

You could feel the tension building, the invisible line between the two of you tightening with each word exchanged. You were both teasing each other.

"but I know you want me to." you continued, voice low. "If you asked nicely... maybe I would."

Silence. 

The only thing you could hear was his breathing—slow, but heavy. Even that sounded beautiful, like every part of him was designed to captivate you. You waited, the pressure coiling tighter in the pit of your stomach. Then his voice came again, softer this time.

"Talk me through it."

But there was a command in his tone.

"I said nicely."

There was a pause, and you could almost picture him struggling with the request before he spoke again.

"Ca—Can you please talk me through it?"

"That's more like it." You whispered, smirking. "See what happens when you listen? Now... are your pants down? If they aren't, pull them down."

You waited, hearing the soft rustle of fabric on the other end. He was listening, and the thought made your pulse quicken. Thrill ran through your body, you had never done anything like this before.

"What do you want me to do next?" His voice was quieter now, the assertiveness from before completely gone.

"I want you to touch yourself, but not too fast, okay?"

You paused, waiting for his breathing to change—waiting for him to obey.

"Are you doing it?"

"Yeah." he breathed out, almost as if the word escaped him unintentionally.

"Good. Now, I want you to keep going, but don't finish until I tell you to. Can you handle that?"

There was a pause, his breath quickening. 

"I can handle it." he replied, though his voice wavered just a bit.

"We'll see."

You could feel the heat radiating through the connection, charging the atmosphere around you. His breathing was heavier now, more ragged, each inhalation betraying just how hard he was trying to please you. 

"Tell me how it feels." you encouraged, your voice silky and low. 

"It feels... so good." he stammered, his words interrupted by tiny gasps. "I want you. I want to feel you. I want you here with me." He spoke again.

A shiver ran down your spine at the vulnerability in his tone. The yearning in his voice made you only think about  him—how he sounded, how he felt.

"Touch yourself harder, let me hear you." You whispered. 

He followed your command, his voice becoming strained and desperate Each moan a mix of pleasure with restraint, and you could practically visualize—lost in passion, chasing the edge of that sweet release.

"Are you going faster?" You asked, your heart pounding with anticipation.

"No...  I- I won't until you tell me to." he responded, voice trembling, you could hear the struggle in his words.

"You're such a good boy. You can go faster." You could feel a rush of satisfaction at how he gave himself over to you.

"Fuck." He let out in a breathy moan. You could hear his hand moving faster, driving you to insanity knowing how desperate he was for you.

"Just like that." you murmured. "You want it, don't you?"

He gasped softly, almost pleadingly. "Yes, I want it so bad."

Before you could speak again, he interrupted. "I don't know how much longer I can hold back." His voice full with need.

"You can handle it, right? Well.. that's what you told me." You reminded him, your tone teasing. "Were you lying to me?

"No, but—"  You could hear the struggle in his voice, the way his breaths quickened as he fought against the sensation. 

"Please." A groan reached your ears, confirming your suspicion. "Please, I need—" His voice was whiny, but it was obvious he was trying to keep it in.

"Need what?" you interrupted, a smile on your face. "Permission?" 

"Yes." He responded immediately, his breath rigid. 

"You're close, aren't you?" you teased. "Beg for it. Use that voice and tell me how much you want it."

His breathing became frantic as he pleaded. "I want to cum so badly, please. I can't hold back anymore. I'll do anything you want... just please, let me finish."

You hummed softly, his voice seeping into your ears. His voice was a mix of desperation, coming out in broken gasps. 

"Please... I'm begging you." The urgency in his tone echoed through your mind making you give in.

"Finish for me." You said softly. 

The sound that escaped him was pure ecstasy. His voice melting into a series of gasps and whimpers— loud and desperate, sent shivers through you. 

You wanted to be there, to feel him come undone against you. 

"You did so well." 

"Thank you." he murmured softly, trying to catch his breath, coming down from his high. 

"Well... it's pretty late, I should get going." You spoke. 

"Yeah cool, I understand. Have a good night." He responded, still sounding a bit winded. 

"You too."

And with that you hung up, turning off your phone completely before closing your eyes, drifting to sleep as you thought about what just happened. 

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A week had passed and you still couldn't shake that night. You didn't know whether to feel disappointed or proud of the night you had with a complete stranger on the internet. It was truly something you had never done before.

Walking into class you noticed an unfamiliar face talking to your professor as you walked to your seat. He was cute, you can admit that, but his sudden appearance already irritated you. You groaned as you saw your professor point your way, and the stranger started walking toward you. Currently you're working on a project that requires a partner. Luckily, you ended up working alone due to the odd number of students, but you could tell that was going to change as he walked towards you.

 Your eyes immediately dropped to your phone, hoping if you pretended not to see him, maybe he would just walk past, but of course you're not that lucky. 

"Hey, I'm Haechan." His voice pulled you from your thoughts. "The professor told me to partner with you for the project."

Your heart skipped a beat, and not in a good way. His voice—it was familiar, uncomfortably familiar. You felt a strange chill creep up your spine, but you quickly brushed it off. It couldn't be him, right?

"Hi, I'm Y/n." You replied, your voice coming out more clipped than you intended.

His eyes squinted ever so slightly as he looked at you in silence for a moment.

"Do you know what you're doing, or am I gonna have to teach you?" You didn't mean to speak harshly, but your words came out sharper than expected.

"I know what I'm doing." He answered, his voice low as he took a seat beside you.

You swear your blood ran cold every time you heard him speak. You listened to your fav audio guys voice a lot, you couldn't lie and say that it wasn't almost the same. It made you feel a little weirded out, only making you think of the night even more every time he spoke, but you just tried to ignore it and focus.

"So, we need to do a few things by the end of next week." You spoke. 

He nodded but remained silent, his eyes locked on you in a way that made you feel exposed. His lips parted slightly as he continued to stare. 

You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the tension. "I don't like strangers coming in my house, can I come over yours to work when we don't have class?"

"Yes, that works. Can I have your phone so I can give you my number? You know, to keep in touch." He asked.

You nodded in agreement, taking your phone and opening the phone app, handing it to him.

You looked away for one second, expecting him to quickly type in his number, but instead, you saw him swipe across the screen, heading straight for your Instagram.

"What are you doing?" You asked, irritation in your voice as you snatched your phone from him. 

"I was tryna give you my insta like I said." He answered defensively, voice cracking slightly as he stared at you offensively.

"You said number." You replied, narrowing your eyes.

"Well I meant insta." He responded hastily, putting out his hand demandingly. 

"Who do you think you are?" You snapped. "You're going to give me your number, it's way more practical." You handed him the phone again, this time watching him like a hawk as he slowly typed in his number, his eyes darting up at you now and then with that same suspicious glint. 

"See how easy it is when you listen." You grinned, Haechan looking at you with glistening, suspicious eyes as you started typing on your computer.

"Why do you have SoundCloud and Spotify?" He asked suddenly, staring at your phone screen.

"What?" You hummed, not breaking contact from your computer. 

"Why do you have SoundCloud AND Spotify. You only need one music app, right?" He asked, emphasizing his words sassily.

You turned to him, rolling your eyes, exasperated. "Why are YOU so noisy." 

At this point you were clearly irritated and just wanted to get your work done, alone.

"Do you have something to hide?" He asked, leaning a bit closer, his eyes gleaming mischievously as he stared up at you.

You looked into his annoyed before sighing and turning back to your computer.

"I just listen to unreleased music up there, happy?"  He hummed in response, not entirely convinced, but he let it go, turning his attention back to his phone.

"Are you busy tonight? I need to come over so we can discuss a new plan and get started." You didn't break any contact from your computer, typing steadily.

"You're not very patient are you?" He chuckled, scrolling through his phone. 

"I just like to get things done." You responded. 

He looked up from his phone, eyebrow raised as he stared at you suspiciously, as if he heard that line before.

"Yeah, that's fine. Come over at 6pm, I'll text you the address." He answered, looking down at his phone again.

"Ok, now get off your phone and give me your email so we can start working." You said.

"Whatever." He rolled his eyes but complied, turning off his phone as he rattled off his email address.

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You stood at his apartment door, annoyed as no one came to let you in. You turned around, getting ready to leave. The day had already been stressful, and now you were almost at boiling anger.

"Where are you going?"

His voice stopped you in your tracks. You didn't want to turn around, didn't want to acknowledge him—everything in you screamed to leave, but something about his voice pulled you back.

Slowly, you turned to face him, your gaze locking onto his. Haechan stood in the doorway, his frame leaning casually against the doorframe, eyebrows raised as if he hadn't just kept you waiting. 

"What took you so long?" You walked toward him, your tone sharp as you fought to keep your composure.

"I was jerking off." He said sarcastically, a cocky smirk landing on his face as you looked at him with annoyance and disgust.

"Ah!" He yelped suddenly, launching himself toward you in mock attack, his hands making an exaggerated gesture as if he was going to grab you.

"Stop that was disgusting Haechan, what the fuck is wrong with you, seriously?" You asked, voice in obvious irritation. 

He rolled his eyes, moving out the way so you could walk in. "Learn to take a joke." 

Even though you had just got there he was already getting on your nerves. 

You walked into his studio apartment, even though it was small, he made it look quite spacious and comfortable. His room was quite dark, purple and blue led lights surrounding his desk that sat next to his messily made bed, the atmosphere felt almost... intimate.

"It's so dark and scary in here." You joked trying to shake off your earlier discomfort, setting down your belongings and taking a seat on his bed.

Haechan said nothing, his face unreadable as he sat down in his desk chair, spinning it slightly to face you.

"So, why do you have a big microphone and a gaming headset?" you asked, pointing to the equipment scattered across his desk.

He looked at you, his expression unreadable but his jaw tightening. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... why the big setup?  You recording something? Streaming? Or... something else?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his gaze darting to the microphone and then to the floor. "I just like good audio." He muttered defensively.

"Good audio for what?"

For a moment, he said nothing, only licking his lips as if buying time. 

"Huh?" You spoke in a mocking tone, raising your eyebrows as you looked at him. "You can't answer?"

"God, why are you so noisy geez." He spoke defensively,  getting up from his chair and snatching the cord from the computer, grabbing the microphone, throwing it in a drawer with more force than necessary.

"Oh, so when you ask questions I'm supposed to just answer, but when I ask you it's different?" You stood up, crossing your arms as you glared at him.

"Yes." He crossed his arms too, mimicking you with a smug expression.

"Do you have something to hide Haechan?" You asked softly, inching closer to him, his sparkling eyes looking into yours as you moved closer.

"Ha, no." He chuckled lightly, though it came out shaky, his shoulders stiffening as he backed up against the desk, knocking into it with a soft thud.

 "Shit." He whispered, turning around quickly, scrambling to pick up all the items that fell, growing startled as he turned back around to see you standing in front of him.

"Why are you so nervous Haechan?" You murmured faintly, your voice drifting into his ears, making his mind race.

"I'm- I'm not" His voice cracked, betraying him as he forced out a chuckle, but it died quickly.

"You sure about that?" you whispered, leaning in just a bit more, your eyes locked on his. You could practically feel his pulse as it quickened at the base of his neck.

His eyes flickered down to your lips before darting back up.

"You act like you're so tough, like you got everything figured out, but here you are, all jumpy and flustered." You teased.

Haechan let out a slow breath, his hands grabbing the edge of his desk, trying to hold himself up. "You think you know me?" His voice was low, barely more than a growl as he tried to regain control of the situation.

You smirked, backing up just a little, giving him space to breathe. "I'm starting to get the picture."

He stood there, silent for a moment, watching you with wary eyes. The tension between you was heavy, but before either of you could say anything more, his phone buzzed on the desk.

He glanced at the screen, then back at you, something unreadable passing over his face. "You gonna stay and work, or you leaving?"

"Let's just get this done." You said, taking a deep breath, breaking eye contact as you turned toward the bed.  

The room felt different now, charged with something unsaid. You settled back onto the bed, pulling your laptop onto your lap, feeling Haechan's gaze on you. 

"Hurry up and pull out your laptop. I don't wanna be here all night." You spoke, turning to him.

His tongue grazed the inside of his mouth as he looked at you with irritated eyes. "Ok." 

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It had been over a month since you and Haechan have become friends, and you could say that he was bearable now— ok, you were kinda in love with him. How could you not be? His witty personalty, his face, his voice it was hard to not fall for him, especially when you saw him everyday. You and him were always together, hanging out mostly everyday, even after the project, so it wasn't a surprise when you got a text from him. 

hey, can you come over im boreddd? 

yeah 

doors unlocked, just come in.

ok

"Welcome home." He joked as you walked in. 

You smiled, setting down your stuff at the door, removing your shoes to join him on the bed. He was wearing his signature outfit, a black shirt and gray sweatpants—thick frames sitting on his face, his black hair messily in a middle part.

"So what do you want to do?" He asked, turning to you.

"I don't know Haechan you invited me over." You responded, scrolling on your phone. 

"Let's just watch a movie." He said.

You nodded in response, prompting him to get up to grab some snacks. 

Your eyes scanned the room, stopping at his computer. Soundcloud was wide open, the screen pretty much screaming for your attention, and there you saw a familiar banner. 

"What chips do you want." He asked, looking over to you, noticing you staring at the computer. You broke contact with the computer, looking at him, still a little taken aback. 

"Uh, it- it doesn't matter." You said, looking back at the computer subconsciously. His eyes joined yours, staring at the computer screen then back into yours. 

"Oh oops, is it too bright?" He asked, walking over to his desk and exiting out of the tab, turning down the computer brightness. 

"Yea thanks." You giggled, turning back to look at your phone. 

Your head flooded a thousand thoughts. 

Ok, you could be overreacting and he could just be a pervert like you and you both happened to listen to the same guy, or it could be something he just stumbled across, but everything lined up so perfectly. 

You turned the phone away from him, turning down your brightness as you opened Soundcloud. You went straight to his profile and the banner was obviously the same, no denying that, but you looked around the account for more hints. You couldn't find anything else, it's not like you could ask him anyways, right? 

You were about to give up, but you took another good look at the profile, his banner catching your attention. You sat examining the username that was in the center 'hcillusion119." What could that mean? 

"Hey Haechan."

"What?" He turned to look at you. 

"If you had to choose a number what would it be? Make it in the hundreds." 

"I don't know, maybe one hundred and nineteen."

Your eyes widened as you stared at your phone. No way...

"What are your initials again?" You asked, looking at your phone.

"LDH, Why?" He asked.

"Huh, where did the D come from?" You turned to him with questioning eyes. 

"That's my real name Y/n. My other initials are LHC, Why are you asking?" He answered with a snarky tone. 

You sat staring at him for a second, the user name replaying over and over again in your mind. That was it— the hc stood for Haechan. Of course he would choose a name like that: 'Haechan Illusion 119', it was right in front of your face. 

"I have to go to the bathroom, take a second to get back normal because you're acting weird." He said, interrupting your thoughts.

You turned to him nodding, going back on your phone like there wasn't a care in the world. You sat there waiting patiently for the bathroom door to shut and lock, waiting a few seconds before sprinting up, taking a seat in his computer chair. 

Thankfully, he didn't lock the computer, so you could easily access everything. You turned the brightness up and quickly typed in the website, before you even typed in the whole word it came up. You clicked on it, and there it was— that banner, those audios, and a 'edit' button. 

Your eyes widened, you always had a feeling that it was him, especially when you heard his voice, but something was telling you that it was too good to be true— this explained everything. 

The microphone, why he was persistently trying to get into your insta, why he asked about Soundcloud on your phone, everything was piecing together. You quickly typed instagram on the search bar, praying that it was logged in, and thank goodness it was. You went straight to his dms, a whole bunch of randoms of course, but then you saw it: 'unknown825'. You sat still for a second, staring at your username, clicking on it. You laughed to yourself quietly, you didn't know whether to feel relived, nervous, or...

"It's you, isn't it?" he said from behind you, startling you. 

You turned around, heart racing. "I- um-" You stuttered, locking eyes with him, still sitting in the chair as he drifted towards you.

"You know, the first day we met in class I had a feeling it was you, but I didn't wanna jump to conclusions— goodness you looked like you were about to fall apart every time I spoke though, how could I not get suspicious?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about Haechan." Your response came out a little less convincing than you thought. 

"I tried to get into your insta, but there was nothing. I looked on your computer, nothing as well. Soundcloud? logged out. God you're good at hiding this." He inched closer and closer to you, your breathing getting heavier with every step. 

"I couldn't just ask, expose what I do if it wasn't you. You thought the same thing too right, wanted to ask, but you couldn't? You had nothing to lose regardless, but I took you for one of those kind of girls— the kind that acts all innocent in front of everyone, but has a deeper, dirtier secret that you're hiding." His voice was seductive, yet mocking as well, you cant say that it didn't hurt your ego a little to spoken to like a little slut who got caught doing something they weren't supposed to be doing. 

"What, the cat got your tongue? What happened to you being so dominant?" He teased, sitting on his bed next to the chair, grabbing the arm rest and turning you to face him. 

"You know, if you're wrong then you look like a fucking idiot." You scoffed.

You tried to make yourself sound as convincing and possible, tried to make the situation seem like it didn't bother you, but honestly you were a little uptight about it. It's all fun and games when it's on the phone and you could just block each other and not talk ever again, but in person it was so much more.

"There she is, the Y/n I know and love. You know, I've waited for this moment. The moment where you would finally be so fucking desperate to know if it was me, been waiting for you to go through my stuff. You wouldn't do it though, surprisingly, so I just gave you a little push." He smiled, placing his hand on your knee. 

You shoved his hand off of you. "What are you talking about, gave me a little push?" You asked, giving him questioning eyes.

"You think I would just keep Soundcloud wide open on my computer Y/n, be serious? I thought you were smarter than that." He smiled cockily, titling his head as you looked deeply into his eyes.

It was a setup. He set this whole thing up to catch you on purpose, and you fell right into his fucking trap. 

"You're despicable. You did it, you caught me... now what?" You asked, leaning back in the chair, crossing your arms.

He took a look at the computer that was behind you, pointing to it, prompting you to look. You can't lie and say that you and hcillusion119, well, Haechan didn't do this call thing often, and that's exactly what he was hinting at— the call that took place two days ago. 

"Remember what you said we would do if we were together, what you would do to me?" He asked, his sweet, desperate voice melting your brain like ice cream on a hot summer day. 

"No Haechan, I don't remember."

Of course, you remembered. How could you forget? Every late night conversation was carved into your mind. Each call felt like an escape, an intimate secret between just the two of you, leaving you aching for more. Now, the weight of his presence made it impossible to deny your own desires. You were curious...no, desperate to know if what you shared over the phone would be even more intoxicating in person.

"Let me remind you... please?" he whined, his voice tugging at something deep within you. He leaned down, his hand trembling slightly as he grabbed yours, guiding it to his cheek. The warmth of his skin sent shivers through your body, and without thinking, your thumb began to gently stroke his face.

His eyes closed as he leaned into your touch, his breath coming out in shaky sighs. "I'll be your good boy." he whispered, barely audible.

Your heart raced, the thrill of finally having him in front of you, not just a voice through a phone but real, and within reach. You could see the way his lips parted slightly, the rise and fall of his chest. It felt good to finally be close, to finally have him like this.

Without breaking eye contact, you slowly withdrew your hand from his cheek. His eyes snapping open, filled with need, searching your face as you got up from your seat. His gaze followed you, not wanting to  even be an inch away from you.

"Go to the headboard." You murmured softly.

Haechan reacted instantly, rushing to the head of the bed, pressing his back firmly against the headboard. He adjusted his glasses, his lips slightly parted, eyes locked onto yours.

You crawled onto the bed, your movements slow. His breath hitched as you came wanting more, needing you. You reached him, your body hovering just above his, your fingers grazing the side of his face again.

"Tell me," you whispered, leaning in close enough for your breath to ghost over his lips. "what did I say I was gonna do?"

His eyes sparkled, you could see him unraveling, caught in the web of everything you had both imagined during those late nights. You both knew that you imagined each other's faces on those calls after you met in person for the first time, and now it was all a reality. 

“You said... you'd make me beg." His voice was a trembling whisper

"So beg me." You whispered, your voice soft, lips brushing against his ear, sending a wave of heat through him.

You felt him tense under your fingertips. His eyes, wide and pleading, locked onto yours with a desperation that made your heart pound. "Can I kiss you?" he asked, voice small, almost a whimper.

You smiled at the sight of him completely undone in front of you. You slowly lifted his glasses up onto his forehead, pushing the messy strands of his hair away from his face. Your fingers lightly grazed his skin, and he closed his eyes, leaning into your touch.

"That's not how you ask." You teased, your voice low as you leaned in closer, just enough for your lips to brush his, but not meet fully.

He let out a shaky breath, his body trembling with need. "Please... Can I please kiss you Y/n? I need you," he breathed, his voice barely holding together. "I want your lips on mine so bad."

Your smile deepened as you leaned in, teasingly grazing your lips against his again, just barely. His lips parted, waiting for you to close the gap, but you pulled back, watching as frustration and longing flooded his expression. He swallowed hard, his eyes darkening with desire as he leaned closer, his forehead resting against yours.

"Please." He whispered.

You finally gave in, pressing your lips against his in a heated, passionate kiss. The moment your lips met, it was like something electric passed between you both. The kiss deepened as his lips moved urgently against yours, tongues tangling together as if you were both trying to consume each other, neither wanting to pull away. You melted into him, your body pressing closer.

The kiss broke only when you both needed air, both of you gasping as you parted. Haechan's lips were swollen, his breath shallow, his chest heaving as he stared at you, his eyes filled with lust.

"Can I touch you?" He whispered, his voice needy.

You nodded, your heart racing even faster as he shifted you higher in his lap, his hands trailing slowly, up your sides. His fingers caressed your skin through your clothes and you felt his breath hitch as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, kissing your skin softly at first, then harder.

His lips moved down, sucking and biting gently at your skin, leaving marks. His hands explored your body, grabbing, squeezing, and pulling you closer, his touch growing more possessive with every second. His hips moved beneath you, the friction of his lap against you sending waves of heat pooling in your stomach. You gasped as he rocked you back and forth, grinding you against him.

Small, breathy moans escaped your lips as his mouth moved from your neck, traveling down to your collarbone, where he kissed and nipped at your skin, his hands sliding lower, gripping your hips firmly and guiding your movements against him.

"Fuck... feels so good." He whimpered, his voice strained as he broke away from your skin, his head falling back against the headboard. His eyes were half lidded as he watched you move.

Your hands found their way into his hair, tugging lightly as he groaned, his body reacting to every touch, every movement. His grip on your waist tightened, and you felt him twitch beneath you as he pulled you even closer, his hips bucking up against you.

"God Y/n." He whispered breathlessly, lips finding yours again, the kiss hungry and desperate, his tongue exploring your mouth as if he couldn't get enough of you.

He pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "I wanna taste you." He desperately spoke, looking at you with begging eyes.

Your fingers slid through his hair as you watched him, his breath quickening, his hands resting on your hips. He was desperate for your permission.

"I wanna taste you." He repeated. He was looking up at you, his lips parted, pleading. "Please Y/n... I'll make you feel so good, I promise."

You let out a soft hum, your fingers tracing along his jaw, watching as his body visibly tensed, waiting for your response. You could see the hunger in his eyes, the way he couldn't tear his gaze away from you. He was completely under your control, willing to do anything you asked.

"You'll do exactly what I want?" You whispered, your thumb grazing over his cheek as you leaned closer, teasing him with the lightest touch. He swallowed hard, nodding quickly.

"Yes—yes." He breathed, his voice barely holding together. His eyes were wide, shimmering with anticipation, his grip on your hips tightening, almost as if he were afraid you'd pull away. "Please, just let me. I'll make you feel so good Y/n, I swear."

Your lips curved into a small smile as you stroked the side of his head, leaning in just enough for him to feel the warmth of your breath. "Then go ahead baby. Make me feel good."

The moment the words left your mouth, his eyes lit up. Without wasting another second, he gently pushed you onto your back, his hands moving with urgency as he pulled down your pants and underwear in one motion.

He paused for a moment, his gaze locking onto you with awe, like he was seeing something he had dreamed about for far too long. His hands traced along your thighs, and you could feel the faint trembling in his fingers as he spread your legs, positioning himself between them. His eyes grew wide as he took in the sight of you, his lips parting slightly as he let out a soft exhale, his breath warm against your skin.

"You're... perfect." He murmured, almost to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. He leaned in, his lips brushing your inner thigh, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. You could feel his desire, his need to please you.

Slowly, he began kissing his way up your thighs, his lips trailing delicately. Every kiss sent a spark of heat through your body, and you could feel your pulse quicken as he got closer and closer to where you wanted him most. His hands gripped your hips firmly, keeping you in place as his breath fanned over your core.

"Fuck..." he groaned, his voice low. You could feel the restraint in his body as he tried to hold himself back. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and you saw nothing but hunger in them.

"You're so beautiful Y/n." He whispered before lowering his head between your legs, finally giving you what you'd been waiting for.

The first touch of his tongue against you was slow, he was savoring the taste of you. He let out a soft moan, the sound vibrating against your skin, sending waves of pleasure through your body. His hands held your thighs apart, his grip possessive but gentle as he worked his tongue in slow, sensual strokes.

"Oh my god." You moaned out, your hands tangling in his hair as he buried his face deeper between your legs, his tongue moving with more urgency now. He flicked his tongue against your clit, earning a gasped out of you, your back arching off the bed as he sucked lightly, sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body.

Haechan groaned against you, the vibrations from his voice adding to the sensation, and you could feel his desperation growing with every second. He was completely lost in you, every lick, every suck more intense than the last. His hands slid up your thighs, holding you steady as he devoured you, his tongue moving faster, more eagerly.

Your breaths came out in shallow gasps, your body trembling beneath his touch, and you could feel the heat building in your core, your stomach tightening with every flick of his tongue.

"Haechan... fuck." You whimpered, your grip tightening in his hair as he continued to work his mouth against you.

"Please Y/n, I want you to come for me." He groaned against your skin, his voice filled with desire. His tongue moved faster, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "I need you."

You cried out, your entire body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you, your grip tightening in his hair as you rode out your high, legs shaking. Haechan didn't stop, his mouth still working against you, drawing out your orgasm. 

Finally, he pulled back, his lips swollen and glistening, his eyes filled with satisfaction as he looked up at you.

"Did I do good?" He asked softly, his voice still breathless, his eyes searching yours. 

"Mhm." You hummed, your fingers gently stroking his cheek brushing away a few strands of hair. "You did so good for me." 

He smiled in response, leaning in to take your lips into a kiss.

Somehow, it was more passionate than the last. You two devoured each other, tongues tangling, your body heating up as you felt Haechan grind against you, trying to feel some type of friction.

"Fuck, I need to feel you... can I please feel you Y/n?" He whispered, his breath tickling your earlobe.

You pulled back slightly, your eyes meeting his. "Do you think you deserve it?" You asked teasingly.

His eyes locked onto yours. "I do... please, let me feel you." He pleaded.

You couldn't resist the sincerity in his eyes. With a playful smirk, you gestured for him to adjust, his back pressing against the headboard as anticipation swirled between you.

"If you think you deserve it, then take off your pants." you instructed, your voice firm yet inviting.

His eyes widened like he was in a dream.  Without hesitation, he slid down his pants, exposing his readiness to you, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Of course you're not wearing underwear." You laughed, crawling into his lap, his eyes filled with  excitement and shyness. 

"You're so fucking dirty." You whispered, threading your fingers through his hair, drawing a soft moan from him as you gave a gentle tug.

His glasses slipped to the bridge of his nose, but he seemed unconcerned, his attention solely on you. Any other time he would've voiced a rebuttal to your comment, but he needed you so bad he couldn't even find the words.

"Please." He murmured desperately.

Slowly, you adjusted yourself, guiding him to your entrance. Both of you moaned as you took him in, inch by inch, until he was fully in you.

He threw his head back against the headboard, overwhelmed by the sensation of your warmth surrounding him as you moved. "Fuck." he whimpered, his grip on your hips tightening.

"What, can you not handle it?" You teased.

"I—" He tried to speak before it was cut off by a small moan escaping as you pulled him deeper. "Can I move you?" He asked.

A soft nod was all he needed. His hands found your hips, guiding you, lifting you in a rhythm that soon had him whimpering your name, his movements becoming more desperate as your heat wrapped around him.

He had dreamed of this moment—the chance to feel you, and it was everything he'd imagined and more. "Fuck, feels so good." He whimpered.

His pace quickened, driven by your shared need, each whimper and sigh from you encouraging him to go deeper, faster.

"Fuck Haechan, you're so big." You moaned out, the words shooting straight to his pelvis. 

"Are you gonna be good for me and cum?" you whispered into his ear, your words sending a shiver of pleasure through his body.

"Yes, fuck, I'll be good for you." He moaned out, overwhelmed by the sensations pushing him closer to the edge. His glasses fogged with each heated breath.

His movements grew messy, each thrust sending him closer to the edge, you tightening around him.

"Fuck, gonna—cum.” He gasped, his body trembling beneath you.

"Cum for me, I'm almost there." You said, your stomach tightening as he hit your g-spot.

"Feels so good." He whimpered, the feeling of you clenching around him making him go almost insane. 

"Fuck— gotta pull out." He could barely get the words out, eyes squeezed shut, he felt dizzy. Even though his mouth said one thing, his hands kept moving you, keeping himself deep inside you.

"It's okay baby, fill me up." You moaned, the permission tipping him over the edge.

"Fuck I'm coming." He let out a choked whimper, finding his release, filling you full of his seed. His hands covered his mouth as he tried to hold in the cries that wanted to be let out. 

"Uncover your mouth."  You spoke, wanting to hear every precious sound he made, reaching your high shortly after. 

His hands fell away, gripping the sheets to ground himself. His moans turned into cries of pleasure as he twitched beneath you, riding out the last waves of pleasure together. 

"Shit." You said breathless, exhausted and satisfied, your head resting in the crook of his neck, your shared breath slowing to a gentle rhythm.

"Look at what you do to me." He muttered, obviously still winded.

"Look at what you do to me"  You said, gently cupping his face, smiling as you took in the mess you both became—his glasses fogged beyond use. 

He smiled lazily, resting his head on the head board as he let out a satisfied sigh, closing his eyes.

[farsight-the-char]

P5 Arena looking good

Some robo gals - Mod Velvet

*this isn’t an edit or a screenshot, this is 3D fanart*

[bloodvampyr]

(x)

[cybergirl2006]

Source

[null-entity]

Lets go do crimes!

Model: Me.

Photographer: The Remote Camera Trigger.

If you want to help support me and get awesome stuff like early access/polls & pose requests Become A Patron / DA Subscriber or you can check out my Ko-Fi store for exclusive stock!

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[scripture-digital]

POWAH, POWAH, POWAH, POWAH! Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous lox! The only style mankind needs...

[izzabela]

Can I request bi han x fem reader.

Reader is sent on a mission in Russia and bi han misses her,sektor tells him to get a phone so it'll be easy to communicate and y/n introduces him to phone sex and they have phone sex.

New Things - Bi Han x fem!reader

in which you introduce Bi Han to something new while away on a mission

a/n: Bi Han with a phone is a crazy idea- i like it

ship[s]: bi han x fem!reader

warning(s): MDNI, porn with semi-plot, phone sex, f!reader = f!genitalia, masturbation, dirty talk, degradation, post-kanon story

"He- Hel- Hello? Bi Han?" you voice called, breaking slightly over the phone.

Bi Han put the device close to his ear, your voice finally patching through his phone. He smiles, the only witnesses of this soft act being the walls of his bedroom. He coughs before answering you.

"I can hear you, darling," he responds. "How do you find Russia? Have you eaten yet? Is the mission going well?"

You chuckle at the onslaught of questions, "Cold, but not as cold as home, yes I ate already, and the mission is going decent."

Bi Han sighs, "Good, I am glad you are alright."

Bi Han originally didn't have a phone, hell he was opposed to such devices. He caved after you were gone for a mission a couple months back, and the letter he wrote you was intercepted by the enemy. It was also Sektor's idea, he even accompanied Bi Han in choosing one.

Now, here he was, talking to you over the phone while you were oceans away. Elder gods, what a sight to behold, the grandmaster using technology.

"And you, my dear, is there anything to note back home?" you ask. Bi Han groans as he relays the struggles you were missing out on.

From setbacks to the coding of the cyber-ninjas, to even more dreadful losses with this brotherly war, Bi Han was having a hard time dealing with these setbacks. It was uncharacteristic of him, since he's usually more calculated and put together.

"You sound stressed, my dear," you mention, twirling your hair as get in the bed of the hotel you were staying in. You hear Bi Han sigh over your end of the phone.

"You are greatly missed here, none more so than by me," Bi Han says softly, and you coo at the vulnerability he displayed.

"I also wish I were home," you respond solemnly. It's quiet over the line, the light breathing filling the silence.

That is, until a light bulb is lit in your mind. It's a little risky, but it isn't entirely a bad thing. Just to blow off some steam.

"Darling, would you like to relax?" you ask, but Bi Han is perplexed as he answers you.

"I am unwinding just fine with you on the phone."

You tut him, clicking your tongue as you clarify yourself. Apparently, subtly in words was not his strongest trait.

"Would you like try phone sex?" you blurt out. It's quiet on your end, Bi Han not saying a thing for a couple of beats.

"...What exactly is that?" he asks, his voice sounding lost and confused. You then explain that it would just be them on the phone, whispering dirty things about themselves as they touched themselves rather inappropriately.

TLDR, a horny way to unwind the stress of missing each other.

"I see," is all Bi Han says. "I do not know how to start, though."

You chuckle, "Remaining ever so honest, grandmaster. Do not be worried, though, I can lead us."

You strip down into nothing, putting your phone on speaker as you lay comfortably in your bed. Bi Han still remains in his sleepwear, but he can see that his member is growing erect as the minutes pass.

"For starters, it must feel rather lonely in bed without me," you begin, your voice a little breathy. Bi Han sighs, palming his growing erection as he responds.

"It is, it pains me that you are so far. I cannot hold nor touch you." Bi Han sets his phone down after indulging you, on speaker mode as well so he has... a better range of motion.

"I have only my thoughts to keep me company," you admit, slowly rolling your breasts in your hands.

"Do tell me what you think about when I am not present," Bi Han eggs you with a teasing voice.

"I, uh," you stutter. "I think of how you tease nipples. Your fingers always squeeze them the way I like." Bi Han groans a bit.

"Touch them as I do, then," he tells you, palming his rock-hard dick. "To let you know, I miss the way you stroke me, my dear."

Bi Han gave up on his pants and boxers. His dick was hard and free from its fabric prison, and he was going in constant strokes to mimic the way you did. Bi Han grunts as he touches himself, pumping his dick in his fist as he heard your breath over the phone.

If the wetness between your legs were relayed to a leaky pipe, you were practically bursting at this point. You moan at the though of his hand pumping his cock, trying to emulate your touch. It filled you with pride knowing you left such an impression on him.

You reach down in between your legs, rubbing the wet folds as you imagine your fingers as Bi Han's length. You bite your lip to stifle a moan, but it slips through and Bi Han catches your poor attempt of hiding your voice.

"Do not be shy, my darling," Bi Han says breathlessly. "Let me hear you. Touching yourself as you think of me, in and out of your tightness."

Bi Han was getting into it now. Still keeping his constant strokes, he imagines your body on top of him. Visages of your perky nips in his face, your voice bouncing off the walls of the shared room. He can imagine the marks on his back, a great side effect on how well he dicks you down.

For you, you stuck a finger in your wet cunt. Just like Bi Han, you pump the digit in and out of you at a good speed. It hits your good spot perfectly, and the moans you had been so desperate to hide come through and enter Bi Han's ear. He's smirking, and he pumps a little faster.

"Can you hear that? Though you are so far, you still manage to please me," Bi Han's voice is sultry and deep, praising you a job well done (so far).

"Are you this degenerate when you are away?" Bi Han's tone shifts, and it shocks you a little bit. "Touching yourself, desperate to relieve yourself- disgusting."

By the elder gods, he was really leaning into this phone sex business. As much as you want to deny it, you can't help but moan and agree with his degradation of you. Yes, you missed him. Yes, you touched yourself on those occasions where the longing was too much.

You stop yourself and add another finger inside yourself, curling it slightly to hit your g-spot even better. You moan louder, and Bi Han takes it as a sign to go faster in his fist. He's grunting a little louder, and through your ecstasy you can hear a couple of shaky exhales of his breath.

"By the gods, I can just imagine it," Bi Han says breathlessly. "Your fingers won't be enough, not when I have marked you, molded you... made you mine."

You gasp at how dirty his words have become. Gods, he was immersed, and your bodily response was to get even more wet. Practically soaking the sheets underneath you, you respond to the claims Bi Han was acclaiming.

"Yes grandmaster! You've molded me so well- I am yours wholly!"

As you keep pumping yourself, your hand that was previously on your tit is on your pleasuring yourself two-fold as you focus on reaching your high. Bi Han is huffing and puffing now, his hand going up and down as he also chases his peak.

"Very good. Keep the thought of my length as you come," Bi Han says. "Your warmth is all I can think about- I even squeeze my fist to think of how you squeeze around me."

The mention of it makes you squeeze around your fingers, and that was the last sensory necessity for you to zone in on cumming. The feeling of your fingers rubbing your clit, your other fingers going in and out of your tight cunt, and the gentle squeeze to give you more friction, it's sending you over the edge.

Bi Han has a gentle tightness around his cock. He's trying to imagine you squeezing around him, and it works as he can feel his high coming. The thoughts of your body bouncing up and down his cock, your moans ringing in his ears, and the little squelches he can hear from the speaker, send Bi Han into overdrive.

"B-Bi Han!" you cry out. "I- oh gods, I'm close!" Bi Han just grunts in response, muttering under his breath as he's about to peak.

"Bi Han!" you cry out, literally squeaking as your legs twitch and shake as your body begins to relax from your climax. You're breathless, hands damp with your slick, and your body dripping with sweat.

Bi Han also climaxes, calling your name as strings of translucent white coming out. They land on his lower stomach and thighs. His chest heaves up and down, yearning for air as he comes down from his high. He's sticky with sweat, extra sticky near his penile area, and his hand has a bit of his own slickness too.

He reaches for a tissue on his nightstand, and you do the same on the other side of the world. Over the phone, Bi Han can hear you shift on the bed, putting your clothes on and shuffling around the room to clean up. Bi Han is wrapping up his own clean-up operations, putting his clothes on before settling into bed.

"Bi Han darling?" you call for him through the phone. "Are you there?"

Bi Han grabs his phone, "Yes I am." It's a bit quiet before he speaks again. "Did you enjoy?"

You laugh heartily, "Of course! Who knew you were really good at this, my darling~" you drag out the "ing" sound, and he chuckles at your antics.

"Thank you for introducing this to me," he says, calling your name softly. Your face warms, and you can't tell if it's from the warmth of your phone.

"You're welcome, Bi Han. Perhaps we can do this again when I have more time," you offer.

"Finish up the mission, and we won't need to do this over the phone." That's all Bi Han says before he drops an "I love you" and hangs up.

The call drops, and you sleep with motivation to come home.

=====================

phone sex is... odd, but i did finish it. i hope you liked it anon!

still finishing up all my reqs, let's see if i can do it before school starts for me

see yall in the next fic!

[nb-hedgewolf]

The light is MINE.

Small story underneath Readmore. Please reblog instead of liking!

Robotnik's latest plan to try to get rid of Sonic, and take over the world, had involved the creation of space-time vortexes, using the a gemstone known as the "Warp Topaz". Reaching into other realities to gather resources for his plans, and to trap Sonic inside a dimension where he'd be unable to thwart his plans.

This idea backfired the moment it was put into motion. For, unbeknownst to him, in a different reality, a beast of famine and darkness could feel the ripples his machine left in time and space. In a last attempt to secure it's survival, the heinous beast tore a hole from it's home dimension and into Robotnik's machine.

Before the hedgehog Robotnik oh-so dreaded could do as little as drop a snarky comment, the machine's alarms blared out loud, sending constant distress signals to the scientist's control panel, as it detected an unknown entity crawling through it's insides.

The next thing anyone knew was that Sonic began to fight this mangled monstrosity made of crystal bones. A walking corpse of a higher being, desiring nothing but to sink it's fangs into the hedgehog. Each punch from this thing felt terrible, the pain this pitiful monster felt was being inflicted into Sonic.

The fight went on for hours on end, the beast attacked relentlessly, not allowing the hedgehog even a single second to catch his breath, and it didn't seem to have intentions to stop any time soon either. Friends and curious onlookers had came to his aid a long time ago, but neither Sonic nor the beast wanted anyone nearby.

A knot tied deep inside Sonic, the way it felt to be attacked by this monster, he didn't want his friends to be forced to deal with it. It reminded him so much of the cold, numbing, painful, scalding, overwhelming pain from cyber corruption. And yet, this felt so much worse, according to him.

The moment Tails tried to approach Sonic, holding his Miles Electric in the end, exclaiming he had found a way to deal with this unknown thing, was... the end. The monster locked it's "eyes" on the fox, and prepared to attack. Sonic wouldn't let any harm come to his closest friend, his sibling...

So he took the hit for the fox. And this time, the beast sank it's claws deep into the hedgehog's body. Finally, after hours of constant fighting, time seemed to move slowly, the hedgehog tumbled back, feeling warm liquid flow down from his chest, a buzzing ring sound echoed in his ears, he couldn't tell what everyone was saying anymore.

After hours of battle, the hedgehog tripped down into the arms of the beast, and was devoured. Light expanded outwards, like an explosion, the moment Sonic and the beast made contact, light that shone brighter than anything any of them had ever seen. Soon, where once two beings stood, now only one entity remained: Golden fur covered its body, golden as the brightest of suns; dark crystalline armor adorned its form, as black as the darkest of nights.

It took a single step forward before roaring in anger, crying out in pain, screaming in agony. Its hunger for light was not yet quenched.

On that day, the hero of this world, the beacon of hope in the heart of every mobian, was extinguished. The torch of the vessel of chaos was never passed down, instead, its never-yielding flame was devoured by the dark maws of the beast from beyond space and time.

On that night, in roars and cries, it pledged to subdue, and consume, all the light in this universe, to punish humanity for it's hubris, for the inhabitants of this world were not free of sin in its eyes. Desiring light, power, and energy. Playing god, they had drained another one like itself, and destroyed it, forgotten it, erased it.

Now they all would pay the ultimate price.

Travelers from the world this creature first emerge would name this new being fueled by revenge "UB-Chaos". Also known as...

Entropy Spine Necrozma.